Page 42 of Ride By Your Side

“I suppose I could maybe see that being true for you, given I’ve never seen you with a woman, let alone a girlfriend. But come on—you have to have a type. Everyone does.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you were paying such close attention.”

I lift my slice and let it hover in the air in front of my mouth. “Well, we live in Evergreen Grove. What else is there to do? It’s all about people-watching—seeing who’s with who and talking about exactly what they’re doing behind those closed doors.”

He lets out an annoyed huff. “You and the rest of this ridiculous town need to get a life. But fine. If you really must know—I like brunettes,” he confesses.

My lips curve into a wide grin. “Is that so?” I ask, a little too excitedly. But when you get Miles Bennett to open up about something, especially something so personal, it’s hard not to get a little excited.

“Maybe, but honestly, I really don’t think I’m all that picky.”

“I don’t know about that. I have a feeling you’re a lot pickier than you’re letting on. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve never really seen you with anyone, so clearly, you must have some pretty high expectations.”

“Alright, then, fine. If you want more, I like brunettes who aren’t from Evergreen. When I go out, it’s usually with women from as far away from this crazy-ass town as possible.”

I nod, the movement slow and deliberate, before tilting my head back and forth from side to side. “Okay, well, I can’t say I don’t understand. The dating pool is pretty small here,” I admit, especially since, as of right now, I’m pretty sure I’ve gone on dates with all the eligible bachelors in our town. Given that my most recent relationship ended with me running away at the altar, I can’t exactly see myself being a hot commodity anymore, either.

“Way too small,” he agrees as he lifts a slice to his lips, just as Bubba comes to my side and paws at my leg.

“Hey there, Bubs,” I say, bending down to rub the spot behind his ears.

“He’s just trying to get you to feed him some crust,” Miles says knowingly, nodding down at the sturdy bulldog planted in front of my feet.

“That, or he just loves me. Huh, Bubs? We’re besties,” I say, smiling as I continue to rub the spot I know he loves. H tilts his head to the side and gives my hand a few affectionate licks. It could be exactly what Miles is saying, and he’s just trying to get a taste of the yummy garlicky goodness, but I want to believe it’s more than that. In fact, he’s spent the majority of the time since I arrived at this apartment following me around.

“Besties, huh?” Miles asks, eyeing the two of us, and it’s obvious he’s not quite sold on the idea.

“Yep, and I fully plan to make myself his favorite person during my stay here,” I decide, intent on riling Miles up since clearly his dog is his soft spot.

“You can try, but I’ve been with him since he was just a pup. I’ll always be his favorite.”

“Challenge accepted.” I grin, tapping my chin deviously with my free hand. “In fact, I’m going to make myself your new favorite person, too. I can already tell I’ve chipped away at some of your walls, but by the time I move out, you’ll be so hooked, you’ll be sending me daily texts begging me to come back.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, that’s cute. But spoiler alert, it’s not happening. Best of luck though, because I’m sure you’re going to need it.”

“I don’t need luck. In fact, I’m positive that I can do it. I am quite lovable, you know?”

“I’ve heard some rumblings about that, but given that I usually only hear that sort of thing from Blair and Ford, I’m not sure I’m fully inclined to believe it. Especially considering I’m not sure I trust either of their judgment.”

“Well, I mean, I did get you to marry me in Vegas, as well as got you to do a few other things, so I think even you might find me a bit more lovable than you’re willing to let on,” I playfully challenge, setting my plate to the side before crossing my arms in front of me.

His cheeks redden, and I know I’ve got him right where I want him. “Well, as we both know, I was pretty hammered when that happened,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, I’m not sure anything I did that night counts,” he adds, clearing his throat and seemingly doing his best to regain his composure.

“And what about now? You’re not drunk tonight are you?” I ask, pushing myself off the counter as I slowly inch toward him.

He straightens, setting his plate to the side. “No...” he trails off, clearly waiting to see where I’m going with this, and honestly, so am I.

This is likely the last thing I should be doing, especially since he’s doing me such a huge favor by letting me stay. The last thing I need to do is complicate things, but I can’t help myself, especially given the ways his eyes have darkened and are currently following my every movement as I make my way across the small kitchen.

“Well, in that case,” I say, stepping closer until my bare feet nearly brush against his, our chests only inches apart. I tilt my head and bite my lower lip, watching as his gaze follows the movement, just as I’d hoped. “What do you think of me now?”

“Fine,” he gives in, his voice taking on a deep, velvety tone. “Maybe you’re a little more likable now, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying lovable. If I had to categorize it, I’d say what you look like is undeniably fuckable.”

I take an inhale of breath, definitely not expecting that answer from him, but it’s not one I hate either. If anything, it only makes me want to push the boundary even further, especially as my mind drifts back to the night we got married, when only a few hours earlier he made me come in the middle of a crowded dance floor. If he could make me feel that good with just his leg, I have to wonder how much better he can make me feel with a different body part.

“And are you going to act on that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not sure it’d be a good idea,” he counters, raising one hand and using the back of his fingers to run a tantalizingly slow line down my bare arm.

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