Page 58 of Wishing Hearts

He puffs out a breath. “When I tell her you’re my boyfriend, do you want to be there? Do you have any opinions on what I say? Should I wait for a specific milestone or…”

He peters out, and I give his hand a squeeze. “I’m ready whenever you are,” I tell him seriously. “And I trust you with the rest. If you want me there, I’ll be there. If you wanna tell her on your own, I support that.”

Harrison nods once before abandoning my hand to grab the back of my neck. He holds there for a moment, eyes pinging between my own, and then he tugs me forward, closing the gap between us. His lips meet mine in a hard press. A thank you, maybe, or something else. It feels like a promise. Or, perhaps, I desperately wish for that to be true. That this man is promising me a solid go at a future.

I can see it, if I close my eyes and look up at the stars. I can see what we could be.

When Harrison draws back, he doesn’t go far. He leaves his hand on the back of my neck, toying with the short hairs there. I have to fight not to close my eyes and sink into the sensation.

“I want to see you again soon,” Harrison says.

My heart leaps. “Yes.”

He chuckles a little, his blue eyes bright. “Lunch this week? I’ll come to you this time.”

I nod in his grasp.

“And maybe another dinner, too?” he adds.

I nod again, wanting any and every chance to get closer to this man and all he has to offer. I’d be here every night with him, Winnie, and Tigger if it was an option. If Harrison was ready.

“Name the days and I’m all yours,” I tell him.

He smiles, letting out a soft sigh. I know it’s getting late, and I’ll need to leave soon so Harrison can get his rest. But I’m not quite ready.

“Tell me somethin’,” I say.

His smile widens. “One time, I found a rattlesnake in my boot.”

“In your boot?” I repeat, horrified at the prospect of stepping into that disaster, quite literally.

Harrison nods. “This one’s a long story,” he says, settling more fully against the couch. His elbow is resting along the top, hand still clasped gently around the back of my neck. And as Harrison regales me with his tale of why it’s never a good idea to leave your boots outside during a rainstorm, I let my fingers drift along the material above my hip, right over my tattoo.

Unable to help myself, I make another wish.

Chapter 17

Harrison

“How’s your new toy?” my coworker asks.

I look at Deborah in confusion. “Pardon?”

She cocks her head, a sassy grin on her face. “That boy of yours,” she says, nodding down to the phone in my hand, where a picture of Sam is onscreen.

I snort, shutting off the device before sticking it into my pocket. “He’s not a boy. Or a toy.”

“Really?” she asks. “’Cause it sure seems like he’d come with batteries.”

A chuckle breaks free because she’s not exactly wrong. Sam is full of energy.

“How would you even know?” I throw back. “You met him for half a minute.”

She shrugs, pulling out a seat next to me in our small break room at the practice. We’re the only two people in here at the moment. Deborah has her lunch with her, but I’m just waiting for my final patient of the morning to arrive so I can get through their appointment and go meet Sam. I probably could have been catching up on some paperwork instead of sitting in here ogling the man, but he sent me a picture of himself in his uniformed glory, cowboy hat in place, and I couldn’t quite resist taking a moment to drink him in properly.

Deborah opens her container of chicken salad before answering me. “I didn’t need longer than half a minute to figure out the man’s got a vibrate settin’ built in. I mean, damn, Harrison. I’d say it’s cute the way he looked at you. But cute doesn’t cover it.”

She digs into her salad as my face heats. If only she knew how filthy the man truly is.

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