Page 97 of Igniting Sparks
I return the smile before stealing another kiss from his lips—still warm, still perfect. “So very much. Are you okay with that fact?”
He tilts his head, pretending to think it over, but I catch happiness poking through his tough-guy exterior. “I think so. Yeah, I am.”
He doesn’t return the sentiment, but I understand he might not have the same level of feeling I do. At least, not yet. Plus, I hurt him tonight, so I’m the one with something to prove.
And I have just the plan to do it. He’s spent enough time in my family’s world. Now, I want to spend time in his.
I motion over my shoulder. “Want to play pool?”
He snorts and rests his hands behind his head. “Not at all.”
“Darts?”
“Keep trying.”
“Want to go home and have wild, crazy sex all night?”
He bites back another grin but, to my shock, shakes his head. “No.”
Well, shit.
“What do you want to do?”
Please don’t tell me to leave.
Braden pats my thighs. “Hop up.”
I do as he asks, smoothing my skirt and clutching my bag to my stomach.
Braden stands and fishes a twenty out of his pocket, throwing it on the table. “Hey Zane, we’re out of here.”
Zane lifts his beer in a mock salute. “Where are you two headed?”
Braden grabs his helmet and drapes an arm around my shoulder. “My girl and I are going to spend some time together.”
“Have fun. Use protection.”
I roll my eyes. Typical Zane.
We walk outside to my car, but I pause by the door. “So, what exactly are we doing when we get home?”
He pushes me against the car, his hands banding around my waist. “You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”
I have a pretty good idea of his plan, but it doesn’t matter if he wants me to make those pesky pecan praline muffins when we get back to the farm.
All that matters is that we’re together.
With him, I’m not just home—I’m whole. Finally.
The only bad part about living way across town?
I’ve got twenty minutes to spiral about whether Braden’s going to change his mind before we get there.
Granted, he hasn’t pulled a U-turn to escape my clutches yet, so all signs point to yes, but… I know I messed up.
And it’s going to take more than a fervent kiss in the middle of the bar to make things right.
He needs to know I won’t walk away again. That I’m choosing him, and that I won’t waver in that decision.
