Page 28 of Where the Roses Bloom
Wanted her pressed up against the kitchen cabinets with her legs around my waist. Wanted her laid out across my bed,hair spilled over my pillow, calling my name like a hymn she only sang when she thought no one could hear.
But more than that, I wanted todeserveher.
So I slowed it down.
Barely.
Let my mouth drag to her jaw, her neck, kissed the place where her pulse fluttered like wings. She shivered and rocked against me, and I bit back a groan.
If I was being honest with myself…I’d wanted nothing more than to take this woman to bed since she’d shown up in my driveway. But I wasn’t raised that way; I was raised to woo a lady. Willow leaned in for another kiss, but I threaded my fingers through her hair and laughed softly.
“I wanna take you out today,” I murmured. “Show you off.”
She smiled, slow and crooked, her breath warm against my cheek. “You want to show me off,” she murmured, “but you don’t even know me.”
That made me pause; she’d said it before, too, and it had struck me as wrong that time too.
My hand stayed cradled at her jaw, thumb brushing over the soft curve of her cheek. She looked up at me like she was teasing—but there was something else behind it. Something that looked an awful lot like fear.
I hated that.
“I know you like biscuits more than pancakes,” I said, quiet. “I know you laugh like you forgot how for a while, but it’s comin’ back to you now. I know you make things grow. I know you got hurt.”
She didn’t look away.
And I didn’t stop.
“I don’t know where you came from,” I said. “Don’t know who broke your heart. But I know I’d give a damn lot to be the one who puts it back together.”
Silence.
And then her lips parted, breath hitching, and she whispered, “That’s not fair.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to believe you.”
“Then do.”
I kissed her again, soft this time. Like a promise. Like a beginning. Like I meant every word…and I did.
She leaned into it, into me, and when she pulled back, her voice was just above a breath. “Ask me something.”
“What?”
“You said you don’t know where I came from. Ask.”
I studied her face. “You ready to tell me?”
“I think I need to.”
“Okay.” I met her eyes. “What’s your favorite color?”
She laughed. “Not like that…”
“Hey, it’s important.”
She blushed. “Pink.”
