“Oh. What do we have here?” Some of my earlier sadness slipped away, and I felt myself gain some footing in this landslide of sensation. “Is someone afraid to examine his own relationship?”
“Not at all,” he said. “But too tired? Definitely. I’ve only got so much gas left in this tank tonight, and we can either expend it dissecting my functional life or making your wimpy ex-boyfriend froth with regret.” Miller’s forehead contracted in a frown, and fatigue and frustration narrowed his eyes.
I touched that marred brow with a light finger, trying to smooth his irritation away. “This conversation isn’t maintaining our appearance of being madly in lust with one another.”
“Madly in lust.” Miller’s lips curved as he mulled that over. “What’s the best date Eddie ever took you on?”
“His name is Ned.” And Ned was across the way swaying with his new sweetie, and if I wasn’t mistaken, his eyes were tracking us. “He’s an extreme introvert, so we didn’t go out much. We’d go out to eat occasionally, but he preferred his gaming console at home.”
Miller gave a partial eye roll before pulling me in tighter and resting his chin against my temple.
Oh.
Oh, my. That felt nice. “Um.”Focus, Hattie. “One time…” Good Lord. What was I talking about? Oh, yes. Dates. “One time Ned took me to the lake to fish at dusk.”
“Because that’s what you liked to do?”
“I liked being with him.” Wasn’t that enough?
“But do you like to fish?”
“No. Too much fish maiming and worm stabbing.”
“Of course.” Miller’s chest moved in a small laugh. There went those chills again. How did I turn that off? “Then what was nice about the date?”
“The sunset on the lake.” Ned hadn’t even noticed the pink and purple splashes across the sky. “The company. The sound of water gently hitting the rocks on the bank. Watching boats in the distance.” Was Miller nuzzling my ear? “Did you just sniff me?”
“Aiming for authenticity.” He spun us around a slow-moving couple and wound me back in like he’d missed me in his arms. “You know what I would’ve done on that date?”
I could hardly think when a man looked at me like that. “Brought your laptop and created some uber-romantic spreadsheets?”
“Nope.”
“Whispered sweet nothings in my ear about stock options and capital gains?”
“Now you’re gettingmehot.”
I giggled, momentarily forgetting about what’s-his-name and his mistress of the bad dress.
With a featherlight touch, Miller swept his hand over the back of my head and down the length of my hair, never missing a step. “I’d have made that date a night you wouldn’t have wanted to end.” His voice was dark and sweet, whiskey and honey. “We’d have camped there under the stars, just me and you. You’d have slept in the crook of my arm, and I’d point out Orion and Ursa Major, maybe thrown in a little Perseus and Andromeda if I was feeling cocky.”
“Which is always.”
He ignored that and swayed to the song, his body warm against mine. “I would’ve skipped the fishing because I remember how anything with animals, even the aquatic ones that taste good fried up for dinner, bothers you.”
“Fish have feelings too.” And so did I. Right now my feelings could only be described in volcanic terms such asmoltenand whatever the opposite ofdormantwas.
“I would’vebrought a bottle of wineand after a grilled steak dinner—”
“Wait.” I glanced up at him, only to find his eyes hot on mine. “Where’s this grill coming from?”
“Portable. Back of my truck.”
“You’d just have that in your vehicle?”
“Whose fantasy is this?”
“Carry on.”
