Page 50 of Somewhere You Belong

“Dallas?” I gasp, clutching at the neck of my robe, cursing the fact that the instant I see him my nipples get hard, which are glaringly easy to detect through the thin silk.

I see his eyes widen, drop down to my offending chest, and then glance back up just as fast, clearing his throat as he finds his words and averts his eyes. “Good morning.”

“Uh, good morning. What are you doing here?” My grip on my robe grows tighter.

“I, um, came by to give you something.” He stares at me as I wait for him to continue, but it takes us both a minute to process what’s going on here.

“Okay?”

He finally blinks. “Can I come in?”

“Um.” I glance down at my robe, feeling borderline naked the longer I stand here.

“It will just take a minute.”

“Sure.” I open the door wide, allowing his large frame to walk through, watching him wander toward the kitchen where he deposits the box on the counter.

“I was cleaning out a closet at the bar and found this box of painting stuff.” He motions toward the cardboard as I step closer, still holding my robe together. Cool air hits the underside of my thighs while I make sure to keep my back to him so he doesn’t get a show. The only thing I have on under this flimsy piece of fabric is a light pink thong.

“Okay…”

“It’s from when we remodeled the place last year. There are brushes, brand new paint rollers, and gloves. I think there’s half a can of navy blue paint in there too, which is probably still good.” He finally meets my eyes. “I don’t know. I just figured you could probably use this more than I can.”

“Oh.” The racing beat of my heart is both from surprise and skepticism. He came all the way out here to bring me painting supplies—basic things, really, that I can easily grab from the store. It's thoughtful, sure, but why go to the effort?

“It’s the little things that mean themost sometimes.”

Astrid’s words from weeks ago jump back into my mind, and one of the walls I built up toward this man slowly crumbles as we stand there.

“Thank you. That was—this was really thoughtful of you.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play off my gratitude. “It’s nothing. Hell, I wrestled with myself about even bringing it by. But I just thought…”

Without contemplation, I step around the counter and gently lay my hand on his chest, letting my robe go in the process but holding his stare. “I appreciate it. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.”

I watch his throat bob as he swallows roughly. “No one has brought you painting supplies?”

I grin, shaking my head slowly. “Nope. And no one has brought me a scarecrow before, or built me a rocking chair either.”

His gaze holds me captive as his response comes out low and gruff. “Well, I’m glad I got to be the first then.”

We stand there, our eyes bouncing back and forth between each other, deciphering the air around us and feeling the ground beneath us shift all at the same time.

What the hell is going on here?

We’re being nice to each other. He’s showing me that he listens when I speak, he’s not as bad of a guy as I initially thought, and…

And why am I desperate to kiss him right now?

I feel my lips fall open as I suck in a breath, desperate for oxygen to pull me out of this haze. And when I do, I watch Dallas’s eyes drop to my mouth, studying my lips before dipping lower to the opening of my robe which I’m sure is parted enough at this moment to give him a perfect view of my cleavage.

“Your hair is down,” he whispers, moving his hand to my hip as I pull in a sharp breath again.

“Yeah.”

“You never wear it down.”

“I—I was going to put it in a bun.”

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