Page 67 of Lead Me Knot

When our lips part, I say, “It’s perfect, like you.” I brush her hair over her shoulder on one side and then dip to kiss the exposed skin. “You don’t have to be anyone different for me or anyone else for that matter. I love you for who you are.”

“You do?” Her shoulders soften as everything seems to weigh on this answer by how her eyes still glisten.

I was coming into this weekend wanting to see if she wanted to truly commit to making this work with me. I didn’t have a plan. I just know how I feel about her. “Yeah. I think you’re an incredible woman, Lauralee.”

She rests her head on my chest, holding me like I’m holding her. Tilting her chin up, she says, “I think you’re amazing, Baylor.” With a laugh, she adds, “Maybe all this isn’t so far-fetched after all.”

I take her hand and start for the door. “It’s far-fetched, alright, but maybe not as far out in left field as we thought.”

“Does that mean you’re considering it?”

No.

Maybe?

After opening the door, I lean against it for her to cross my path. “I’m going to need more details.” This is not how I saw our relationship progressing. Jumping five steps ahead wasn’t in my plan, but she’s intrigued me more than anything. And although I could make a call to end raising the rent, I want to know how she will spin this to my benefit. Good entertainment or am I open to following through with it? I need another beer and food before hefty decisions are made. “What are you hungry for?”

“New York–style pizza. Ever since you talked about opening a pizzeria in town, I can’t stop craving the real thing.”

Getting a good grab of her ass, I say, “I’ve been craving the real thing as well.” So fucking much. Even with marriage being tossed about, I’m not deterred from the need I have to be inside her again.

She taps my chin. “Pizza first.”

“I know just the place.”

CHAPTER 24

Lauralee

New York is largerthan life. The buildings disappear into the clouds. The sidewalks hold more people than I’ve ever seen in my life. The pace is fast. Everything stands in stark contrast to Peachtree Pass.

As I sit on a barstool at the tiny window counter of a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint two blocks down from his apartment, my shoulder still tingles from almost being taken off by some man who refused to change his path on the way here.

The place can’t hold more than ten people, but it gets the job done and serves a great slice as big as my head. I still managed to devour it. Swiveling, I bump my knees into Baylor’s, catching a smile sneaking onto his face, and ask, “Is this the kind of pizza you want to bring to Peachtree Pass?” I sneak another peek at the bustling street. I’ve never seen so many people in one place. If only the shop had this kind of foot traffic. “Because I’m going to be dreaming about it when I’m back in Texas.”

“I think a pizzeria.” He glances around the place, his eyes sharpening on the details before he turns back to me. “A full sit-down restaurant with some counter stools for a quick lunch would be a good addition. What do you think would work to draw in more visitors and business to the downtown area?”

“I’ve been looking to expand the café portion of the shop.” With my elbow rested on the counter, I tilt my head onto my hand. “More light fare—salads, more sandwiches, quiche, that kind of thing—since it’s mainly me doing all the cooking and preparing.”

“You want to expand?”

“Business is steady.” I shrug, but I don’t know why. I’m usually proud of what my mom and I have accomplished. But I was never in the situation of begging for money before either. “My mom established the shop years before I took ownership.”

“But you’ve grown it. I don’t remember it being such a destination when I was younger.”

“From ice cream and peach-themed ceramics to a small café and full gift shop. We even have a fruit and veggie stand from your family’s farm on the sidewalk out front on the fourth weekend of the month all summer and fall.” Reaching over, I rub his leg because I want to be as close and touching him as I can, and I can do it openly without anyone here caring or even noticing. “Everyone loves peaches.”

His hand covers my hip and leans forward to give me a kiss. “Not me. I prefer shortcake.” A thrill zips up my spine like it does every time he’s near. Reaching down, he takes hold of the metal stool and pulls me closer, not giving a damn about the screech it makes against the floor. Lifting one side of his lips, he smirks. “It’s my favorite flavor.”

I lift my hand to run across the back of his neck. I don’t have anything clever or sexy to say in return. I just like how freeing this feels to be here with him. I still give a lame shot. “Luckily, I brought you some.”

“Can’t wait for dessert later.”

It’s tempting to talk him into returning to the apartment, specifically to the bedroom, but we haven’t continued our conversation from earlier, and it’s still weighing on me until we get it settled, one way or the other. I set my crumpled napkin on the pizza plate when a commotion on the other side of the window grabs our attention. I glance at Baylor, who rubs my lower back in reassurance. “Nothing to worry about.” He’s right regarding the argument, and they move along.

But my heart is still burdened. “Can we talk?”

“Always, Shortcake.”

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