My heart leaps into my throat, and I force myself to say, “It’s where I’m sitting today.” While I’m dying to have his arms around me, I can’t touch him until I know what he wants.
He takes his usual seat on the couch.“No.”
My eyes widen at his resolute tone.
“No, what?” I ask.
“No, you’re not sitting over there. Get over here with me.” He pats his lap.
“I can’t.”
“And I can’t have this conversation with you sitting all the way over there. I need you right here.”
I rub my temples. “Randall …”
“Please.”
Considering this might be the last time I get the chance to be that close to him, I give in.
Once I’m settled sideways on his lap with my hand pressed against his wildly beating heart and his arms wrapped securely around me, he says, “I don’t want to stop doing this.”
All the breath whooshes out of my lungs. When I’m able to pull some air back in, I say, “You don’t?”
“No. Do you?”
I shake my head vigorously, and I’m about to tell him I need more than what we’ve been doing when he interrupts me.
“Good. But …”
I can’t breathe again while I wait for him to finish his thought. When I think he’s not going to, I whisper, “But what?”
“But I want more.”
Now I’m afraid I might hyperventilate. “Me, too.”
He shifts me so he can look me in the eye, and he tucks an errant strand of hair behind my ear. His hand then slides to the side of my neck with his thumb resting beneath my chin, absolutely searing my skin. “You do?”
I swallow and nod and then snake my own hand up to slide into the short hair at the nape of his neck. “I want so much more.”
His gaze focuses on my lips, and I close my eyes as I anticipate the kiss that’s about to rock my world, but then he says, “I’m not going to kiss you.”
My eyes pop open and my face heats. “What?! Why? Why don’t you want to kiss me? You said you want more!”
I try to push away from him, but he holds me in place.
“I want to kiss you—you can’t imagine how much—and I do want more, but if we’re going to do this, I need us to take things slowly. So slowly it’ll undoubtedly be painful.”
I study his eyes, which are as serious as I’ve ever seen them. “So you want to date me … but you don’t want to kiss me? That’s what you’re telling me?”
“No. I want to date you,andI want to kiss you, but I’m not going to kiss you. Not yet.”
“But why?” I know I’m whining, but goodness gracious I want this man’s mouth on mine.
“We’ll talk about that—and more—in a little bit. First, I want to make sureyouwant to dateme.”
“Yes, I want to date you. And I want to kiss you. Right now.” I poke his chest on each of the final two words.
He chuckles and shifts my head back to his shoulder. “You’re cute when you’re fired up.”
