Page 75 of The Sweetest Chirp

Her eyes instantly blur with tears, but her lips curve ever so defiantly. “That’s presumptuous of you, Thatcher Orlov.”

I grin, my body vibrating for this woman. “I am well aware, Mrs. Orlov, but tell me I’m wrong.”

She slides her nose along mine, her eyes boring into mine, and tells me without words what I already know. “You’re not.”

“Told you,” I tell her, gliding one of my hands up her back to her neck, where I hold her tightly to me. Her lips curve in response, but before I take them with mine, I need her to know one thing.

“Just as I know I am insanely, wholeheartedly in love with you. I always have been, and I always will be.”

A tear escapes, trailing down her cheek, and her hand comes around to cup my jaw. With a sneaky grin, she asks, “Was that so hard?”

“Not even a little bit.” My face breaks into a grin as I tell her, “Try it.”

Her eyes flare as she traces my bottom lip with her thumb. Her gaze searches mine, the blue, green, and light brown of her eyes sparkling like the diamonds in her ears before she whispersthe words I’ve wanted to hear from her mouth since I learned what love was. “I love you, Thatcher.”

I don’t think I even take a breath before I crash my mouth to hers. Her body molds to mine as I slide my hand up into her hair to hold her right where I want her, right where I can devour her mouth like I’ve been begging to do since I saw her in that damn diner. Her lips are plump, warm, and fuck, it feels so fucking right. I run my tongue along her lips, and when she opens for me, I practically growl into her mouth. She captures it, giving me a soft, needy moan that has me snaking my hand down to her ass to squeeze her left cheek hard, arching my hips into her belly so she can feel how desperately I want her.

Fuck me, I want to devour her, but I don’t want her thinking this is only about sex.

Remembering I’m playing the long game, I tear my mouth from hers, and when she whimpers, I almost say fuck my long game and take her on the table. She looks at me with pure fire in her eyes, her lips swollen, with gloss all over her mouth and probably mine. I’m lost in her eyes as her fingers go back to playing with the curls at my neck. She chews on the inside of her cheek, and I want to do the same. Her eyes flash with playfulness as she murmurs, “Check, please.”

I grin. “I already paid.”

“Then get the car. It’s time to go.”

“Are you not hungry anymore? We have three more rounds of plates.”

Her grin is pure sex as she licks her lips. “Oh Thatty, I’m hungry, but not for food.” She grasps me through my slacks, palming my cock, and my head falls back of its own accord. Her hand is warm, and she holds me as if she wants to do nothing on this earth but raise my kid and hold my cock.

Not at the same time.

Her tongue trails up my neck, and against it, she whispers, “Let’s go.”

This isn’t supposed to be about sex.

It’s about how much I love her.

I can show her that with sex, right?

Why am I overthinking this?

Because, dumbass, long game.

Yes. Long game.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Something has happened.

I’m not sure what. I go over the whole dinner, what led up to it, and even when we left. Everything was so breathtaking and perfect. I have never experienced such a well-thought-out date or outing, and my mom is way over the top.She always spoiled me and gave me a good time, but Thatcher thought of every detail. He showed me everything he intended to, and now I am ready to show him how much it means to me. The first time we slept together was so hot, so desperate, and everything I could have wanted.

I wanted intimacy with him, and he provided me with it in spades. He has made me feel so treasured, and I know it’s bound to get even better. While I wish we hadn’t lost those three years, he’s right—we needed them. As tight-knit as our family is, the bonds of friends, family, and more were always super tangled. As I think back on my life with Thatcher, I can remember so many times one of us could have taken things further. How one would get annoyed with the other for not acting as if we were in a relationship, even though we never were. We allowed the lines to get entirely too blurred.

Until he crossed the line fully, but he didn’t bring me across it with him. He just freaked out, unloaded on me without communicating how he felt or that he wanted me.

I had no clue how deeply he felt for me, but now that I do, I won’t allow any more lines.

We are no longer just best friends; we are more. So much more.

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