Page 30 of Imagine Me and You

“Baby, I could watch you do that...for another ten seconds and then I would jump you again,” he said.

She smiled at him, hot and tempting. “Already?”

“You said no man had ever been like this with you, which proves what I already knew: you have dated assholes. But it also means that I have to tell you I’ve never been this way with any other woman. Ever.”

Her cheeks turned pink and she tugged the towel up over her breasts. Funny what made her blush. And what didn’t.

“That’s nice of you to say. But you don’t have to say it.”

“I do. Because it’s true. Because you’re different. Because I bit you. I’ve never bitten a woman in my life.”

“If you were Poppy, I would have smacked you with a newspaper.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

She let out a long breath and hugged the towel closer to her body. She looked smaller for a moment. Unsure. And he wanted to grab her and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her. But he didn’t know if she wanted him to. He didn’t know what was allowed in this little scenario of hers.

And he didn’t want to push her too far. Not yet. Too much pushing and she would scurry off into those metaphorical woods without him and he wouldn’t have the chance to make his case for forever.

His chest suddenly felt tight. Was that what he wanted? Forever? With her and Poppy in his house, screwing shit up and leaving hair and footprints everywhere?

Yes. Yes it was.

He’d spent most of his adult life protecting his space and his organization, prizing it above all else.

And it hit him then that if he kept on doing that, he wasn’t any better than his mother. Loving his things more than he loved people. Of course, he was into neat and clean rather than piles of trash. But it was the same idea.

If he took on Sam, he had to let her in. Really. He had to let her have an equal share. He had to give up control.

And in that same moment, he realized he would give up anything, even a clean floor, for her. He would let her damned dog on the couch. He would let the damned dog in his bed. As long as Sam was there too.

Okay, he would get used to those ideas in stages. And maybe they could compromise.

But the sentiment stood.

“Yeah, well. Don’t push your luck. Anyway...the cupcakes will not frost themselves.”

“My cows won’t take their own vitamins either.”

“Or cut off their own...well.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay so...makeup is in the other bathroom and I...” She shrugged her pale shoulders and backed out of the bathroom.

He didn’t know what had caused her unease, but she was definitely uneasy. He let out a breath and walked into his room, hunting for his clothes. He would have to follow her lead. To a point. Then he was going to do some pushing.

Because he was done hanging in limbo. He knew what he wanted now. He knew what he felt. He loved her. For better or worse, for chewed-up throw pillows or orderly house. And that meant he wasn’t going to just hang back.

And she wasn’t going to be able to avoid him forever.

Nine

Jace was so hot.Standing at the stove cooking her dinner. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Just jeans riding low on his hips, the snug fit hugging his ass like a little denim-wrapped present that was just for her.

Ugh. Wasn’t this supposed to be getting easier? Weren’t things supposed to be less...lusty?

She’d spent the past week in his bed. And on his couch. And in the shower. Once on the floor in the hall.

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