Page 93 of When We Burn

“I love the way you smile at me when you first see me in the morning.”

I can’t help but tighten my grip on him. I feel tears fill my eyes, but he keeps talking, looking down at me.

“I love it when we’re making dinner together and you hum while you cut the vegetables.”

He kisses me softly.

“I love the way you are with my daughter, so funny and sweet. It always makes my chest hurt, watching the two of you together.”

One tear slips down the side of my face, and he catches it with his thumb.

“Baby, I love the way I feel when I’m inside of you, and I love the way you make me feel when I’m with you.”

This kiss is soft, and his tongue slips between my lips and brushes over mine, giving me goose bumps.

“I love you, Dani. I love everything about you.”

Tears run unchecked now as I frame his gorgeous face in my hands. “I love you, too. So much. More than I thought possible.”

“Thank God because otherwise, I was about to feel really stupid.”

I laugh, and then he pulls us both up and rearranges us so I’m sitting in his lap. He brushes my hair back from my shoulder and then pulls his knuckles down my cheek.

“Say it again,” he whispers.

“Which part?”

He narrows his eyes, and I chuckle as I lay my lips over his. “I love you, Bridger Blackwell. For a million reasons.”

“Mostly because of my dick, though, right?”

I snort and then laugh outright, shaking my head. “Surprisingly, that ranks in the top three, but it’s not at the top.” I can’t stop touching him. “I love how special you make me feel. And I love your daughter.”

He takes a long, shaky breath.

“And then your … dick.”

He chuckles and then crushes his mouth to mine. “I can live with that.”

Chapter Seventeen

BRIDGER

“Ilove tacos,” Birdie announces as we join Holden and Millie in the kitchen.

The house they rent in town is small, but the weather has been nice enough today that they opened the door to the screened-in back patio, giving extra seating space for not only the Lexington family, but also for Millie, Birdie, and me.

“I think that just about everyone loves tacos,” Holden says, offering his hand to my daughter for a high five. “And they were extra good tonight because you helped me chop the tomatoes.”

Dani’s on the patio, sharing margaritas with all three of her sisters, and I’m in the kitchen, nursing a beer, since we were able to walk over here for dinner, chatting with my two best friends as we finish cleaning up from dinner.

Holden and Millie got married early this year, after dancing around each other for the better part of adecade. They’re two of my favorite people, and I’m glad that they finally ended up together.

“We’ve decided,” Millie begins, “that we need to have family dinners more often. Everyone’s so busy, and if we don’t make time for it, we just never see anyone.”

“Makes sense to me.” I turn when all four girls on the patio start to cackle, and smile at Dani through the screen door. “Looks like it’s a hit.”

“They’re just here for the margaritas,” Holden says, but Millie shakes her head.

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