Page 53 of Anything for You
“Haven’t you figured out I’m a crier?” I asked, rolling my eyes to escape his focus for a breath.
His fingers on my chin guided my face back to his. “I like that you’re not scared to feel.”
I like every single thing about you.
I didn’t say it out loud, but goodness, it was truer with every passing breath.
“You don’t seem like you are either,” I said, a raw, tender sensation flooding my chest.
His head tipped to one side. “Used to be. Years of therapy and making friends with a bunch of people who were also working on emotional honesty and mental health was key.” He chuckled low. “And having Kenny Carmichael as one of my best friends doesn’t hurt either.”
I grinned, loving that he could own all of those things.
Bear barked, a more aggressive bark than I’d heard in a while. Dorian sat up in a jolt, then jumped to his feet far faster than a man that large should move. While I sat up bit by bit, he jogged after Bear, who’d stopped at the edge of the pines.
If there was something out there, he had to be seeing or hearing it with dog vision. I couldn’t see a thing, but Bear was clearly agitated.
Hesitating for a moment, I jogged over to join them right as they turned back toward me.
“See anything?” I asked.
“No. He’s looking toward the property line so maybe someone was wandering around. Could’ve been a coyote ora mountain lion, but he wouldn’t have relaxed so quickly if it had been an animal.”
His hand extended to mine, and our fingers laced, palms pressing together. My pulse absolutely rioted.
“Kind of did that backwards, didn’t we?” he asked, looking down at our hands.
“Did what?”
He released me, and we began packing up the picnic. “Kissed first, and just now held hands for the first time.”
Um, adorable.“Technically, we’ve already held hands. You held my hand that day I cried on you.”
He chuckled. “On me, right. Well, that didn’t count. It wasn’t romantic.”
A sizzly little thrill swept through me. “You want romance?”
He raised his brows. “Only with you.”
I made no attempt to hide my sigh, and we worked on cleaning up. I threw a ball for Bear with a little thrower thing that let me launch it super far and also meant I didn’t have to touch the slobbery thing while Dorian rolled up the blanket and donned the pack filled with our leftovers.
As we walked back, he offered his hand again, and it brought us right back to the conversation.
“So, are you concerned we’ve done things out of order?” I asked, hoping it didn’t actually bother him, but completely unsure.
He squeezed my hand a little tighter, a reassuring pulse. “No, not at all. I think it just means we need to hold handsandkiss as often as possible.”
I laughed, delighted. “Oh, is that what it means?”
He stopped right there in the middle of the trail with trees arching over us, their leaves fluttering achorus. He kept our clasped hands linked and slipped the other to my lower back, drawing me a touch closer. “Yes. That’s definitely what it means.”
And then, he kissed me again.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dorian
By the time I heard Dove’s car on Sunday afternoon, I’d finished cleaning up from tea with the guys and had read and reread the same paragraph of my book while I relived the dream that was yesterday.
