Page 21 of Shotgun Spouse
“You’re impossible.”
“Nah. I just know how to play my cards right. And so do you. You helped raise your sisters as the eldest. If they're a fraction like you, they are more than capable of managing their own lives for a day."
Bunny bit her lip, toying with the skull card.
"Here's what I know: If I do everything, if I do everyone's job, I'll be exhausted at the end of each day, and no one will ever be able to manage without me."
"I know how to delegate. I just like doing it myself."
"You shouldn't have to."
"Well, I wouldn't have to if someone showed up and read the speeches I wrote for him. Instead, when he does have the decency to show up, he often ignores what's right in front of him."
"This third person talk is confusing him."
He got another eyeball for that.
"You—meaning me—have to read the room sometimes. Sometimes, you—still talking about me in this instance—gotta tell people what they're ready to hear."
Bunny rolled her eyes again. She stiffened as she looked down. He followed her gaze and realized he was still holding her hand.
His grip wasn’t firm, wasn’t demanding, just steady. Her fingers twitched before she slowly pulled away. She didn’t look at him as she tucked her hand into her lap, as if that simple act could put distance between them.
It didn’t. He let her have her retreat, but he didn’t let the moment slip away entirely.
"And I've never once ignored you, Bunny. Not since the day I met you. You've had my full focus and attention. I've just been waiting until you were ready to hear what I had to tell you."
"What do you have to tell me?"
"To see what's right in front of you."
"You're right in front of me." She still wasn't looking at him.
"What's right in front of you, who's right in front of you, is a man that desperately wants to kiss you."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Bunny kept her eyes on her hands. Her knees met the back of his plush easy chair that would unfold into a recliner. It was clear it was one of his favorites, as it had a slightly worn quality to it. He must sit here each night after a long day of work.
She traced the seam of Teddy’s borrowed shirt with the tip of her finger. The shirt too was worn, like it had been a favorite until it could no longer fit him. Yet he must've held on to it for sentimental reasons.
All around her, he was there. Surrounding her. Invading her senses. Getting underneath her skin. Clouding her mind.
The weight of responsibility had been lifted from her shoulders, if only for a little while. No schedules to juggle, no fires to put out. Just quiet, comfort, and him.
She could feel something shifting between them, something slow and inevitable, like the moment before a storm breaks.
He’d disarmed her with warm food and hot tea. He'd wrapped her in his clothes. Then he'd played this bluffing game with her—and he'd won.
And now this?
I want to kiss you.
Had she heard him correctly? She had to have. The deep, steady timbre of his voice was unmistakable.
Was it possible she’d only just heard it because she was finally ready to? Ready to see the way his gaze lingered on her, warm and intense, the spark of something she hadn’t allowed herself to recognize until now.
She wasn't recognizing anything because she kept her head down. Her fingers idly traced the fabric of Teddy’s shirt where it draped over her legs. She wasn’t sure she was ready to meet his gaze, wasn’t sure she wanted to see whatever look he was giving her right now.
