I chew the inside of my cheek. “I get that. But it should’ve been my decision.”
“You’re right.” His fingers softly drum against my stomach. “But I’m not sorry for wanting to be here. I want nothing more than to be part of this journey with you. Every step of the way. No matter what.”
Taking a long breath, I slowly release most of my anger. There’s no point in being mad when his intentions are good. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He asks hopefully and gets up. “You mean it?”
“I’m still a bit irritated, but I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for keeping your promises and being there. Thank you for being you.”
The smirk is back. “You should know by now that I always keep my promises.”
My cheeks blush, thinking back to our first night together.
“So, now that we have that out of the way. What’s this grand plan of yours?” I ask.
“I thought that because you can’t leave anywhere, I would bring date night to you.”
“You did well. I absolutely loved the time with Margot and Luke.”
“I’m glad. Can I help you to the table?”
He takes my hand and pulls me towards him. I stumble, but Rasmus catches me. His hands linger at my waist, and the closeness sends heat rushing to my cheeks. My hesitation fades and all I want is to kiss him again.
“You okay?” he asks, his breath warm against my hair.
I swallow hard and nod. “I lost my footing for a second there.”
He doesn’t move right away, but once I’ve pulled myself away from him, Rasmus guides me toward the dining table. His hand resting lightly on my uncovered lower back sends shivers through me.
The dining area off the kitchen has been transformed in the hour I spent getting ready. The soft flicker of the candles casts a warm glow over the set table. A bouquet of white roses is in the center, and soft music plays in the background. The food waiting on the table smells delicious, too.
It’s all so beautiful. Thoughtful and tasteful at the same time. I didn’t know he could pull off something so romantic.
“You did all this?”
“I had plenty of time to prepare while they were pampering you.”
I press my lips together to fight a smile. “It looks amazing, Ras.”
Pleased with my compliment, he pulls out my chair. The simple gesture sends a flutter through my chest. I lower myself carefully, watching as he slides into the seat across from me. With practiced ease, he shrugs off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves.
“How many tattoos do you have?” I ask, admiring his tattoos.
He serves me a portion of the salmon. “I don’t think I’ve ever counted them.”
“Guess?”
“Um…Around thirty, maybe?”
I know he had many but never thought it would be thirty.
“You’ve seen all of me, so it shouldn’t be ahugesurprise,” he comments when I don’t speak.
Ignoring his innuendo, I ask, “What was your first one?”
“The star on my left ass cheek.”
I nearly choke on the air, laughing as the memory resurfaces. “I remember seeing the design. What inspired it?”
