Page 51 of Anything for You
“He’s not supposed to do that,” I said, watching him bolt off the path.
“Seems like normal dog behavior. I just pity the squirrel if he finds him,” she joked.
“It’s decently normal. He should probably be over here with me, but he needs exercise today and I don’t have the heart to call him back.” He should be a bit closer so he could sense if something was amiss, but he was also blissful when he got to simply run and be wild for a bit. “Living on thefarm lets him run around and get his energy out before it piles up and he becomes restless.”
There were long months where I had no energy for him. I had nothing but a scrap of a will to live. Adam and Kenny, Luc when he was in town, and Beast, Tristan… they all tried to get him to go out with them. He’d usually acquiesce to a walk, but if they tried for much more, he’d get antsy and agitated until they brought him back to me.
Thinking about that made my heart squeeze like it was being shoved into a too-small glass jar. It hurt, and it made love for my best boy run over.
“I bet it feels good. You’re doing okay, right? I mean, do you need him right now?” Worry tented her brow.
“I’m good.” Keeping my eyes straight, I admitted, “Very happy to be with you today.”
A few minutes later, we reached the small clearing next to the western tranche of Douglas fir trees. Our view started with the trees and past them, the purply-blue mountains rose with patches of autumnal colors beginning to appear.
We ate and talked—mostly her, but I did some talking, too. She asked questions, and I gave more than one-word answers. Kenny would’ve been proud. I tried not to revel in the way she devoured the roast chicken, warm potato salad, steamed green beans, homemade baguette, and cheese plate I’d brought. She sipped champagne from a stemless glass and hummed as she finished the drink before leaning back on her elbows so she was nearly fully reclined.
“I think you’ve spoiled me for all other picnics. The food was perfect, the champagne was perfect, and I’m sorry, but if it doesn’t end with a cheese plate, I don’t want it.” She flicked her hair over a shoulder for emphasis.
My laugh came out low but overtly pleased. “I’ll have to think of something to one-up myself next time.”
I said it before I could register how it might sound, but Dove didn’t let me off the hook. Instead, she tilted her head and asked, “Next time?”
“I’d like it if there was a next time,” I admitted.
Bear snoozed in the grass twenty feet or so from the blanket to avoid him attempting to pilfer scraps. He didn’t tend to be a beggar, but something told me he might try with Dove. I wondered if he could feel my heart rate tick up, and when I glanced over at him, his head was no longer tucked down at his feet. Head up, ears perked, his attention was on me.
As subtly as possible, I held up one hand to show him I was okay.
“Are we dating, Dorian?” Dove asked, effectively pulling my attention from my dog to her in a snap.
Her cheeks were pink from sun and champagne and maybe a touch of self-consciousness in the wake of asking the question. But she didn’t need it.
“Are we, Dove? I have to say, I’d be very happy if the answer was yes, but I don’t want you to feel?—”
“I say yes. Yes. I would like that, too.” She tucked her lips between her teeth. “Sorry to interrupt you, I just didn’t want you to give me an out, because I don’t need it. I’d be absolutely delighted to be dating you, if that’s what you want.”
Oh, this woman.
She had no idea how much I wanted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Dove
Dorian’s whiskey eyes were pinned on me, and despite the cool breeze rustling leaves and the pine scent drifting from the neat lines of Douglas fir trees, I might’ve spontaneously combusted if he didn’t stop.
“That’s what I want.” His voice was low and sandpapery, gaze still glued to mine.
Did I dare push it? Just a little?
This wouldn’t even bepushing, though, so much as understanding what this meant for him. Because choosing to be celibate didn’t necessarily mean not dating… or did it? I didn’t know. And my lack of experience in relationships meant I had little precedent. So in my true fashion, I just said the words hamster-wheeling through my head.
“Can we talk about what that looks like? What you have in mind?”
Years later, I’d remember this moment as the one whenI realized just how close Dorian played his cards. Until now, I couldn’t have said whether he found me attractive or purely wanted friendship. Yes, he was overly generous with his food and his notes were adorable and he was kind and thoughtful and sensitive. He’d demonstrated all of that to me, but he did the same for his friends. So how would I know whether he thought of me like that?
Except… this pull between us. This connection we had that’d started weaving together with my tears on the porch or maybe even my misguided screams in his bedroom.Ugh, that sounded a bit wrong.Point was, we’d connected in unusual ways, but it hadn’t felt like dating.
