Page 28 of Doing It for Love

“Are you giving in?”

“No.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Please. I don’t even know how long it’s been.”

Three very long weeks.“Me neither.”

“I am seriously concerned about your pants. We should get you fire-resistant ones.”

I shake my head, burying it farther into his chest. “Can we stop somewhere? I haven’t eaten.”

“Well,that’swhy you’re sick!”

He pulls me back to the car, and I try not to think about spending money while we drive to the next rest stop. I’ve got too much stress on my plate as it is, and when Landon’s hand squeezes my thigh twice before staying there to rest, I have to ignore the throb in my lady regions screaming at me that “Yeah, girl. Sex would seriously help right now!”

Damn him.

—

“This is it.”

Landon turns the ignition off in front of a nice house in the middle of a noisy neighborhood. Kids are playing basketball down the street, a dog barks at a beefy man jogging past a fence, and there’s an old lady with a cat on her porch, a cat in her lap, and a cat on the patio table next to her. She yells at that “damn dog” to “quiet its trap,” and I crack a smile.

“You have a cat lady in your neighborhood.” I look at Landon. “A for real cat lady.”

“Uh…that’s my mom.”

I feel all the color drain from my face. Before I can apologize, Landon laughs and I smack him.

“Don’t tease me like that. I’m nervous enough.”

“Don’t be nervous,” he says. But when he turns to the house we parked in front of, he tugs on his hat, hard jawline tensing as he grinds his teeth. I run a hand up and down his thigh, trying to suppress the urge to call him a hypocrite.

He looks down at my hand, jaw relaxing when he strokes his thumb across the diamond.

“They don’t know yet.”

“You want me to hide it?”

His hand stops me from sliding the ring off. “No. I’m just warning you, she’s going to ask if you’re pregnant.”

“Been there.”

“And when we tell her you aren’t, she’ll ask if we’re crazy.”

“We’re crazyin love.” I make a kissy face at him, and he rolls his eyes. I roll mine right back. “Okay, I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

“I’m not worried about you.”

“Tell that to your face.”

“I’m worried aboutthem.”

“You really are calming my nerves. You should be a therapist.”

He squeezes just above my knee, making me jerk in my seat. With no more thoughts of encouragement on either of our parts, we get out of the car, start up the walk, and Landon rings the doorbell. I hear the death march, and I chicken out and swivel the diamond around so it just looks like a plain white band on my finger.

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