Page 35 of The Dallas Dilemma

“Thank you,” he says with a smile. “It took me months to finish it.”

“You made it?” I asked, my pitch rising a half an octave.

He nods. “The end tables and the hutch, too.”

“You’re so talented,” I breathe, leaning forward to run a fingertip along the glossy, beveled edge of the table.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, then taps at his phone’s screen.

A moment later, soft music echoes from a speaker nestled on one of the hutch’s shelves. It feels very…seductive. I let out a shaky breath and sit back, angling my body toward Dallas’. I need to change the subject before I do something stupid, like…

I can’t even think it.

“So, tell me about your amazing first day of work,” I say, injecting a little extra brightness into my tone.

“Well, first of all,” he says, smiling, “Linc is awesome. He asked for my opinions and actually took my advice instead of just telling me to do things his way. And he actually got dirty, helping me with the framing of the room addition we started on today. We just…clicked. We work well together. It’s a big relief, considering I packed upmy life and moved here without knowing how it was going to go.”

“That’s great, Dallas,” I say. “Like I said before, I’ve met Linc a few times through Royal, and he seems like an upstanding guy. He’s nice.”

Dallas tilts his head, his smile dimming a bit. “Did they try to set you up with him?”

“What?” I blurt, a bit stunned. “No. No, of course not.”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he says, and I can’t miss the relief imbuing the words.

Was he…jealous?

“I really want to kiss you again,” he says suddenly, breaking off my train of thought.

I swallow thickly and nod, whispering, “I really want you to kiss me again.”

Leaning toward me, he takes the bottle from my hand and sets it on a coaster on the coffee table before setting his own beside it. He’s smiling as he leans in, cupping my cheeks with both hands. He spreads his fingers, digging the tips lightly into the sides of my neck while his thumbs lift my chin.

Then his lips are on mine, brushing back and forth softly. My hands lift to his cheeks before sliding into his hair and gripping it lightly. As if that was a cue he was waiting for, Dallas groans and tilts his head, deepening the kiss. His tongue slips between my parted lips to brush against mine, and a moan of pleasure rumbles in my chest.

The sound sets off something inside him, becauseone of his hands slides to the back of my head and grips my hair, tugging it gently as he kisses me harder. His tongue plunders my mouth, leaving me gasping for air between kisses.

I’m lost, spinning through outer space on the tail of a comet as Dallas ravages my mouth, and all I want ismore. Harder. Deeper.

But then he groans, softens his kiss to a few light nibbles, then pulls away to meet my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he huffs on an exhale. “I meant to take things slowly, but I got a little carried away there.”

“Oh,” is all I can say, and I release his hair to drop my hands to my lap between us.

“I just don’t want to push you too far or pressure you into something you’re not ready for yet,” he says, moving his own hands down to take both of mine. When I just stare at our joined hands, he says, “Hey. Look at me.”

When I lift my gaze to his, he’s wearing an earnest expression. His fingers squeeze mine, and he takes a long, deep breath before speaking again.

“I need you to tell me how fast and how far you want to go.”

My eyes widen in panic, and he leans in and presses a few soft kisses to my mouth until I relax.

Then he kisses a path to my ear and whispers, “I want you, Josette. But I refuse to push you into something you might not be ready for. I need you to be sure. I don’t want you to regretanythingwhen it comes to you and me.”

My entire being swells with emotion at those words,and my eyes sting with tears. Though I’m in my mid-twenties, I’ve only ever had one real boyfriend, a guy I dated during my senior year in high school. He pressured me to have sex after we’d been dating for just a handful of weeks, and I’d given in because I didn’t want to disappoint him. It was awful, and I broke up with him the next day.

In the years since, I’ve dated here and there, usually when Callie or Twila would set me up with someone. I’ve kissed a few guys and even had sex with one, but it never felt like this. I’ve never felt like I might wither and die if a guy stopped touching me. Like I might ifDallasstops touching me.

---