Page 65 of The Only Heart that Matters
“Seems I’m not the only one paying attention. I mean, you knew my favorite meal.”
There are so many flirtatious replies on the tip of my tongue, but I go for the safety of our new direction of conversation. Besides, he’s got me. I did know exactly what to make him tonight, but I’m going to pretend he didn’t mention it.
“Whatever. You think you know my favorite drink?”
“Sweetheart, it’s not even a question. Wine is always red, beer is always EBC. Before the baby, your mixed drink of choice was a vodka cranberry, but post baby, you prefer a margarita on the rocks, if you drink at all.”
Holy shit.
I am so turned on I squirm in my seat to keep my body distracted from the pulsing between my legs.
“Okay, well, we can check that one off the list.”
“Mia, I know you’re worried about being caught in a lie, but we know nearly everything about one another. I can tell them where you went to school, everywhere you’ve worked, and your favorite color.”
A small laugh escapes me. “You can’t possibly know my favorite color.”
“Sure do. You like that retro baby blue color. Like the shade they used on old school convertibles. I have no idea what you call it, but I know it when I see it. It always reminds me of you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Like I said, I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than you need to.”
Sawyer’s limp little arm falls from Gus’s neck.
“He’s out cold. Here, let me take him. I’ll go lay him down.”
“I got it,” he whispers as he stands, supporting Sawyer’s back.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“No, I don’t. But I want to.”
How do I argue with that? Especially after everything he’s shared tonight.
Nodding, I walk ahead of them into Sawyer’s room. I turn on the truck nightlight on the dresser Angus built and pull back the bedding he bought.
“Do you need to change him?” he asks.
“No, we’ll just let him be for now. You cleaned him up after he ate. We’ll let things slide tonight,” I say as my hand reaches out to rub soft circles on Sawyer’s back.
In the glow of the low light, Angus’s eyes lock onto mine. Something real is brewing between us. As much as I know I should, I can’t look away from him. Not when he’s looking at me like this. He doesn’t need to confess his years of repressed feelings, because now I see it all in his eyes. He wishes there could be an us.
Needing to break the spell, I close my eyes for the count of three, then step aside, letting him gently lay my angel down. He pulls the blankets over him and tucks his new favorite stuffed bulldog close to his side.
Tears threaten to fall at the heartfelt moment, so I turn my back on them, striding through the door to gather myself. Besides my parents, I’ve never watched anyone else put my child to bed, let alone the man who just told me his life is better when he’s taking care of the two of us. My emotions hover just under the surface and I’m afraid I’m about to fail at holding them back.
Would it be rude to ask him to leave his own house? I’m not sure how much of this I can take.
He meets me outside the bedroom door and I pull it until it’s almost closed, leaving it cracked.
“Thank you,” he says, his voice still hushed.
I point my head toward the great room and he follows me, but before I can say anything, he speaks.
“Dinner was perfect...” He puts his hands in his front pockets and the distance between us grows as we walk. “I... I really enjoyed myself, but I think I should head out.”
“Of course. Sure. Yes, it’s getting late.”
