Page 76 of The Inn Dilemma

I rub my sweaty palms against my thighs. “Wh-what are you saying?”

He takes a step closer, flipping his ball cap backward so his eyes are no longer shadowed by the brim.

“I’m saying I want you to give me a chance.” He motions between us.

“A chance for?”

He reaches forward but drops his hand to his side as if fighting the desire to touch me. “Give me a chance to prove to you that we’d be good together.”

“We are good together.”

Holt’s voice drops down an octave. “Nova.”

I can’t help the smile that curls my lips. “What exactlyare you saying?” I repeat my question, needing full clarification.

He closes the distance between us and takes both my hands in his. “I’m saying I want you. To be mine. To do more than just date. I want to court you or whatever I need to do to make you mine permanently.” His good eye searches mine, the glass one making me ache for all he’s been through.

“You want me?”

“All of you. If you’ll have me.”

Without hesitation, I trace the scar that runs down his face with the pad of my finger. He shivers. I pull my hand back and hold it to my chest.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says in a gruff voice before grabbing my hand and resting it against his scar, his rough palm a reminder of the hard labor he does regularly. “Unless you’re sorry for not responding to my question. Will you have me? Can I have you?”

I bite my lip. “Yes. I’d like that very much.”

“So would I.” He kisses my palm, and I practically melt on the spot. “These hands and the woman they belong to make me feel a little less broken. You don’t look at me, my scar, or my glass eye with disgust or pity.”

“How do I look at it?”

“You look at it almost in wonder.”

“It’s a humbling reminder of what you’ve been through. How you’ve sacrificed so much for your country.” I stroke his cheek with my thumb.

The rapid rise and fall of his chest makes me brave. I raise to my tiptoes and place a kiss on the left side of his jaw where the scar ends.

I come off my toes and place both feet firmly on the ground. “Thank you.”

“It was my honor.”

“Always so humble,” I tease.

We stare at each other for a long stretch of seconds. Holt breaks the silence when he asks, “So where do we start?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.” Licking my lips, I add, “I’ve never been courted before. Just flaunted.”

He shakes his head. “To be completely honest with you, I can’t promise that I won’t flaunt you.”

My face crumples as my heart falls.

He quickly recovers. “Not because I want to look a certain way, but because I want people to see how lucky I am. How blessed I am that God gave me you.”

I can’t help but smile at that.

My hand falls from his face.“I’m okay with you flaunting me because I want to flaunt you too.”

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