Page 93 of Force Play

He steps back and I follow, not wanting to lose the weight of him, but in the light of day, right on the trail where anyone, park ranger included, could find us, is more of a risk than even I’m willing to take. “Fine,” I grumble, picking up the pace, hoping to redirect the blood back to my heart and dull the heavy ache between my legs.

For the first time since I fell off my bike, I’m able to really push myself outside the pool and I chase that feeling for the rest of the climb to the overlook. Letting it wash away the anxiety and the lingering horniness from earlier. When we stop at the clearing, Dom wraps his arms around me from behind. His lips brush my temple, and his heart beats almost as fast as mine against my back.

“It’s stunning.”

“Sure is,” he replies quietly.

Glancing over my shoulder, I find his eyes on me. “I meant the view.”

“Me too. What else would I be talking about?”

“Ass,” I tease, trying to wriggle out of his hold.

“Now that you mention it . . .” He steps just enough to glance down between us. “Yeah, that ass is stunning too. Although you have some sap stuck to it.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours. I can’t be held responsible for what happens when you look at me like you might climb me like a tree.”

I roll my eyes and relax back into his hold.

“Feel any better?” The tone he uses is soothing and calm, but there’s a hint of urgency that underscores how deep his concern runs.

It’s confusing as fuck to love being taken care of this way and simultaneously hate it. I want it for me, that presence I’ve missed in my life since my mom passed, but I hate it for him because I remember what it’s like to be on the other side. The never-ending worry that comes along with caring for someone like my mom . . . like me.

“This helped. Thank you for thinking of it,” I tell him, choosing not to get sucked into the worry and just be.

His chest caves underneath me with the deep sigh that rushes out of him. “I hope you worked up an appetite, because I made us a feast.”

“I’ve seen what was in my fridge. A feast feels like a stretch.”

“Prepare to be amazed,” he says, shaking out a blanket we grabbed from his car and spreading it out for us.

We sit down, side by side and he starts unpacking the bag, setting everything between us on the blanket. When I think it’s all there, he reaches in one last time and pulls out a small box.

“Is there a rabbit in there too? That didn’t come from my apartment.”

“Nope. I grabbed it yesterday from the bakery by our hotel and snuck it in when you were changing.”

“What is it?”

“Open it and see.”

I slide my finger on the tape that seals the box shut and open the top. When I see the chocolate and caramel, layered over the shortbread crust, I smile because it’s straight out of my childhood. I’ve never been a fan of cake and my mom used to make these for me anytime there was something to celebrate. I have to roll my lips together to keep the emotions from pouring out of me. “Twix Cookie Bars?”

“I’m not sure if they are the same as what your mom used to make, but I tried one the other day and they taste just like you described, sweet and salty—just like you. So I figured it was worth a shot. And we have so much to celebrate.

“We do?”

“You got rid of the boot and you’re finally giving me a chance to make you the happiest woman on the planet.”

That makes me snort—loudly. Bittersweet laughter takes over and I crawl into his lap, careful to set the box out of harm’s way.

“I’ve tried so many times to recreate these and every time I end up crying over the mixing bowl. These look just like hers. Thank you.” I crush my lips to his, kissing him with every ounce of admiration that’s pumping through my body for this man. And for the first time, I voice the words I should have said weeks ago. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like less than the man you are. It was never about you. You’re nothing like I thought you would be.”

“Putting in the work was never a hardship. Being yours is a privilege, one I was happy to earn and I’ll keep earning.”

“My only experience being in a relationship with a man was nothing like this. It was my only serious relationship, and because it was such a disaster I never gave anyone else a chance. My ex was actually the worst, and for a long time I didn’t date men. I’d hook-up now and then . . .” The hold he has on me tightens. “Calm down. We both know you’re not a saint.”

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