Page 45 of Flirting With Forever
“I’m not sure yet.”
“We could go somewhere. Take a trip. Get out of town for a little while. Would you like that?” With Christmas also around the corner, he wasn’t sure what to get a woman who didn’t seem to want anything despite her circumstances. Maybe a trip would work? Just the two of them? Snowcapped mountains with a hot tub and a view beyond the fire pit. Or an exotic beach somewhere in the Caribbean. He hadn’t had a vacation in years. Not since a spring break back in college. And he wouldn’t mind seeing Sloane in a bathing suit.
“Maybe.”
Oh, yeah, the mood had definitely shifted, thanks to him and his prize comment, and he hated that he was in his truck in traffic while she was at the house no doubt overthinking everything like she tended to do.
“I should go get started on this recipe.”
“Sloane—”
“Be careful driving home. People are racing around all over the place. I saw three fender benders today in a few hours.”
“Merida, hang on. Talk to m?—”
She ended the call.
He groaned at his idiocy of starting a fight before a holiday gathering. He felt as though he’d get them two steps forward only for her to take ten steps back, and this time, it was all on him.
He knew she was nervous about going to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner, and what had he done? Made it worse.
But after spending the last month with her… He was in.
All in.
Call him crazy. Maybe he was crazy to even consider it, and it was far too soon to give what he felt a label, but he knew.
He couldn’t imagine this town without her. Couldn’t imagine his life without her. His home. She’d made him rethink his schedule and how hard he worked. Made him consider all the ways they worked as a couple. He could picture them, side-by-side, planning for their future and all the possibilities it could hold.
For the first time, he felt like he’d found someone he could trust to be his partner in everything. Life, love, a home, and family. All of it. Everything.
Problem was, she either didn’t feel the same way—or she was too scared to believe it was possible. Or…both.
He wiped his hand over his jaw to keep from laying on the horn when a jerk shoved over in front of him and nearly took off his bumper instead of waiting his turn to zipper into the merge lane. Green lights meant moving a car length—if he was lucky.
Due to the Thanksgiving traffic, it took him three hours and ten minutes to travel the sixteen miles home. He tried calling Sloane again, but she didn’t pick up, and with every second that ticked by, his unease grew.
Would she pack up and leave before he got there?
The thought left him ready to crawl out of his skin and feeling sick. But he had to accept the fact that she actually might. They hadn’t talked about a future of any sort because whenever he tried to bring it up, she’d get all squirrelly, like she had on the call.
Finally, he rolled to a stop in the garage and headed inside as quickly as possible, taking the stairs two at a time.
The house smelled like Thanksgiving. Like pumpkin and spices and memories. Good memories, despite all the bad ones.
His mouth watered as he entered the second floor living area only to find it empty. “Baby girl, you are not avoiding me,” he muttered to himself. He kept reassuring himself with the fact her car was still downstairs, so she hadn’t left. Had to be close by.
He did a quick check of the floor in case she was using the bathroom, but when he didn’t find her and knew she wouldn’t have any reason to have gone to the third-floor bedrooms, he retraced his steps to the kitchen and fired off a text.
Where are you?
Downstairs. Bad headache. Turning in for the night.
He swiped a hand over his face and rubbed hard before going to the cabinet to grab some meds, then to the fridge. Seconds later, he was outside her door. He knocked softly.
Silence followed.
He knocked again, and this time he heard a low thud and unintelligible but obviously irritated mutter on the other side. One that had him smirking despite his own dark mood.
