Page 65 of Beyond the Stroke

I take a huge bite of my burger. “Doesn’t look like nothing,” I say around a mouthful.

Maybe I’ll gross him out and he’ll withdraw this silly marriage idea.

“Just thinking.”

I tilt my head and finish chewing the bite of burger. “Dangerous.”

That gets me a small smile, but it fades as his eyes stare intently at me.

“I was thinking…” He leans forward slightly, elbows on the table. “That you don’t even realize when you let your guard down.”

I stiffen at his words, my guarded personality taking offense to his observation.

“Just now, when you took that first bite of your burger? You did this little happy sigh, like it was the best thing you’ve had all day. And for a second, you weren’t overthinking. You were just…you.”

He’s right. I felt it. The ease of just being here and eating. Withhim.

But other than Scarlett, I don’t do that with people.

I set my burger down and stare back at him.

“That’s why you were staring at me?”

“Yeah.” He picks his burger up again. “It’s a good look on you, Wildflower.”

My body flushes at his words, but I cool it down with a drink of my soda.

For the rest of the meal, Rory doesn’t mention us getting married. He tells me about the guys on his team, and his goal of returning to the Olympics for his final run. The way his face lights up when he talks about his teammates and how much he loves swimming, it makes my chest ache. It’s how I feel about painting. Except, while I paint in the shadows, Rory is pursuing his passion publicly.

And I could help him.

My eyes snag on Rory’s basket of fries. I opted for a side salad, but those fries look good. He must catch me eyeing them because he grabs a handful and puts them on my plate.

“There’s more where those came from.” He winks.

“Thanks.” I give him a small smile, my stomach tingling with the sweet gesture.

“You two make a good-looking couple,” the waitress says, laying the check on the table. Rory snatches it up before I even blink. He’s got great reflexes.

“She makes me look good.” Rory smiles at her, then when she walks off, he grins at me. “If that’s not an endorsement, I don’t know what is.”

We finish our dinner, then Rory drives us to the RV park.

When we arrive at my van, I don’t even question Rory coming in and making himself at home.

He pulls off his shirt and tosses it on the bench like it’s an old habit now.

The water glass in my hand slowly lowers as my eyes slide down his naked torso. I watch as he picks up Edgar and cradles him between his chest and bulging bicep.

I cross my arms to hide the way my nipples pebble beneath my tank top, then move past Rory to climb up into the loft.

Now that I’m in my own space, I see why Rory’s unhappiness under his parents’ control hit me so hard. It’s a mirror of my own childhood.

Behind me, Rory climbs up then settles in next to me. The scent of mint toothpaste mixed with his cologne, and the faintest tinge of chlorine, is a heady combination.

He sighs.

“What?”

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