He laughs, but then his face stills again. “Yeah, Meg. I want you to be my somebody…or just…mine.”
I brush my fingers up his bicep, caressing the tiny birds who bloomed to life to give him hope. It makes a gentle kind of joy flutter to life inside my chest when I whisper, “You’ve got me.”
I wake to the subtle rocking of the bed and a brush of Linden’s lips on my shoulder. “I wish I didn’t have to work today,” he says with a heavy sigh.
I thread my fingers with his, drawing him back to me for one more kiss. My heart rolls like a boulder inside my chest, heavy with all that I am holding inside.
He kisses me, and it’s so deliciously tender I could cry.
“Go back to sleep, shortcake.”
And then he’s gone, taking his manly scent and his warmth with him.
When I wake again, it’s to Kody’s mournfulrwouwww.
I open one eye. “Didn’t Daddy Linden feed you, sweet boy?”
The secret nickname inspires a thousand butterflies to swoop through my belly and an ache to tighten somewhere deep in my core. Something changed between us last night, our rules of engagement shifting once again.This isn’t fake for me. It hasn’t been for a long time.
I don’t know when it happened, but it stopped being fake for me too. Was it ever fake? Or was that just a way to sneak past my messy feelings?
And frenemies with benefits? I laugh to myself. We left that in the dust many, many kisses ago.
What’s happening now feels real.
And powerful.
I’ve never felt so cherished. Adored. And safe. And…free. All at once. While also wanting to hold his fragile heart with the utmost care.
There’s so much hope building inside me, like I’m going to burst.
Like I’m falling.
“Mrwouuuw,” Kody insists, pacing at the side of my bed.
Reluctantly, I peel back the covers. “I’m coming.”
I pull on my robe and pad downstairs, a sense of purpose brightening my thoughts. After my breakfast with Dad, I’m going to spend the day doing whatever my little heart desires. A swim. A nap. A margarita and my cozy mystery. Maybe I’ll pick up ingredients for my favorite peanut noodle dish, or maybe chicken tacos with lime crema.
I’m making coffee when my phone pingswith a message.
WORLD’S WORST NEIGHBOR:
I miss you
I cradle the phone to my chest as my pulse ticks lower.
MEG:
What’s the protocol for texting a firefighter when he’s on duty?
WORLD’S WORST NEIGHBOR:
Text anytime, shortcake. If I’m on a call or training, I’ll reply when I can.
MEG:
May I come visit?
