Page 53 of Dashing for Love

We lay there for a moment, both of us breathing hard in the aftermath, her arms wrapped tight around me, my face buried in her neck. Then I trail kisses up to her jaw, her chin, and finally her lips. Our eyes meet, and I smile gently. “Don’t move.”

I get up to clean the mess off me and change into sweatpants, returning as quickly as possible, getting into the bed and pulling her to me, little spoon to big spoon. When sleep overtakes me, I go willingly, the scent of summer and sunshine wrapped around me.

Chapter 21

Goldie

IWAKE UP wrapped in Matty’s arms, the sound of tiny dog nails scratching on the other side of the door. A giggle escapes me.

“What’s so funny?” Matty mumbles sleepily. Then, Killer whines and scratches again, and he groans. “Of course. Killer. Must be five a.m.” He unfolds himself away from me and rolls out of bed, stretching and yawning.

I treat myself to the view in the dim light. He never put a shirt back on, and let’s just say those cowboy fantasies have a little merit to them.

“Don’t move,” he says as he opens the door. Then he doubles back. “Please?”

Because of course he says please.

“I won’t move,” I promise. Why in the world would I want to ruin this little slice of heaven?

I hear him talking to the menagerie, and there’s no stopping the smile that overtakes my face. He’s so sweet with them, cooing and checking in on each one with special nicknames. Truly, he’s the best.

When he returns about five minutes later, I rise onto my knees and yank him onto the bed. He falls with anoof, the both of us tangling into the sheets. I go to kiss him, and he returns it, but it feels…stilted?

“What is it?” I ask, immediately sensing something is off.

He brushes the hair away from my face, his eyes searching mine. “Honestly?”

I laugh softly. “Yeah. I think we’ve proven that we need to be honest with each other.”

His lips quirk up. “Good point.”

“I’m full of them.”

“What…” He exhales. “What are we doing here?”

I can feel my gaze shutter. He must notice, too, because his hand tightens on my hip.

“Goldie, come on,” he pleads. “Don’t shut down on me. I’m just…not confused. That’s not the word. But I have no idea what we’re doing.”

I should have a bit more mercy on him, I suppose. He’s still coming to terms with the fact it’s me. “Do you want to keep this quiet?”

“No,” he says immediately. “I’m not—that’s not it at all. I don’t want tohideyou.”

“But you also aren’t sure what we’re doing?”

He nods. “Should we…go on a date?”

Part of me wants to start a cheer, complete with tumbles megaphones. The other part realizes he’s not yet convinced. “Where?”

He hums. “Why don’t we grab Mexican? People will think it’s just friends getting dinner.”

“But weneverget dinner together.”

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean wecan’t.”

“Okay,” I agree. I lean forward to kiss him, and he’s a little more relaxed this time. “It’s obvious we’ve got chemistry, right?Now we just need to figure out if we really like each other like this.”

The relief that washes over his face is obvious, even in the dim morning light.

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