Page 40 of Say You Remember Me
Besides, being in the car with her, just the two of us, felt…better. (For reasons I wasn’t allowing myself to analyze, of course.)
The click of the trunk opening echoed as I placed her bags inside beside the luggage I’d put in there earlier.
“You all set?” I asked, closing the trunk.
“Yep, ready,” she replied, her voice soft but steady. She slid into the passenger seat, and I couldn't help but glance at her again as I started the engine. She still wore the same white blouse and red skirt she’d been wearing at the office earlier.
I’d been slammed with work over the past week so we hadn’t had any more moments like the one we’d shared in Sloan’s kitchen. But even if I had been all work and no pleasure lately, I had definitely noticed that her red skirt hugged her curvesverynicely.
“So,” I said, pushing my thoughts away as I eased the car out of the garage, “I’m not sure how much you looked into the hotel we’ll be staying at. But it has a cool and artsy vibe, not to mention a great location—lots of restaurants within walking distance. Which is nice, because I hate driving in big cities.” I flashed her a grin. “Must be the small-town boy in me.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught a smirk forming on her lips, and it did something to me—something I couldn’t quite explain. But since I was curious about that smirk, I asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Looking at you like what?” she asked, all innocent.
“Like you’re silently mocking me,” I said, winking so she’d know I was being playful.
“It’s just…” She chuckled softly. “When I think of you, ‘small-town boy’ isn’t exactly what comes to mind.”
“Okay, fair enough. I do travel a lot.” I laughed, feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders. “But I stayed in Eden Falls for a reason.”
“How long have you lived in your house?” Her gaze turned to me, her expression soft. “Is it just you there?”
“I had it built recently,” I said, glancing at her with a slight smile. “Before that, I was living with Owen—two grown men crashing in my parents' pool house after college. Real adult stuff.”
She laughed. “I’m staying with Sloan right now, so no judgment here. Plus, I bet your parents' pool house is a little fancier than most.”
“It was,” I admitted with a grin. “Anyway, about two years ago, one of my friends got engaged, and seeing him buy a house and get ready to take that step made me realize that I should probably grow up a bit more, too. So I started thinking about building my own place. My dad sold me a piece of land, and after a long process, the house was finally ready this spring.”
“So did you just move in?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “The basement’s not fully done yet, but I moved in the first part of May.”
“Well, from what I saw, it looks like you’ve got it pretty well set up.”
“Thanks to the design firm I hired,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “I tried to be involved in the beginning, but by the time we got to picking furniture and finishes last September, I realized I had no idea what I was doing. So I told Cara—the designer—to make it look like the kind of house someone could raise a family in.”
She gave me a look, the kind that said she wasn’t expecting to hear that. “So you’re thinking about having a family, then?”
“Yeah…” I swallowed, feeling bashful for some reason. “I’m sure I don’t seem the type, but I’m getting close to thirty now, and I guess I’ve had some things happen that made me realize dating a different woman every week isn’t actually all that it’s cracked up to be.”
“A different kind of lonely,” she said, seeming to understand.
“Yeah…” And when I met her eyes, I got the feeling that she might have experience with that as well. Being with other people—a romantic partner—but not really feeling seen.
“So are you saying you don’t just let random women come up and kiss you at the club every weekend?” She raised her eyebrows, a playful smirk on her lips.
“Actually…” I chuckled, feeling a bit of heat rise in my chest. “Believe it or not, that first night we met was actually the first time I’d done something like that in almost a year.”
“Really?” She blinked, visibly surprised by my admission.
“I know you probably saw all kinds of stories about me out there,” I said, knowing my dating life had been plastered across the internet—gossip headlines loved to exaggerate. “But I’ve actually been trying to be better.”
Trying to be the kind of man who could deserve the kind of woman that I wanted.
“Well, good for you,” she said, her voice sincere.
We were quiet for a bit, the hum of the car and the occasional blur of trees outside the window marking the time.
