Page 43 of Known By You
“Yes.” I wasn’t going to be a chatterbox if she needed the mental space. “Trust me. I have a plan.”
She was surveying my living room—a cozy space I enjoyed, though the house could use some work. I’d told myself I’d do it myself, but turned out, I didn’t really like being a home renovator all by my lonesome. I’d contracted Warrick Saint to work with me on it and come spring, we’d be tearing up the kitchen.
“It’s dated, but it’s mine. More than I ever had before,” I admitted quietly.
Her gaze found mine. “That’s amazing. It’s really nice.”
It was. There were wood floors, and the bathrooms were actually not terrible. It was a three bedroom, so I had plenty of space. The cabinets were worn and there waswallpaper in a few places. The carpet in the living room was also out of style, but it was mine. A home I’d paid cash for and then nearly puked after I signed at closing.
I’d saved every possible penny during my time in service, and I’d been paid well thanks to being in the EMU relative to others of my same rank in the military. I’d lived modestly, in a small apartment that had never impressed a single person, but it’d let me save some of my housing allowance every month, too, once I was far along enough in my career to live outside the barracks.
This house was mine and there’d been points in my life when the idea of owning my own home had seemed about as far-fetched as being king of America.
I cleared my throat, a little emotional over the place and what it meant. “Yeah, thanks. Anyway, I just need a minute to collect supplies.”
She raised a brow.
“Trust me, Malcom. I got you.”
She continued to wander around slowly, taking in the handful of photos I had up, the cookbooks I kept around, and the other stuff she could see while I gathered things, tossed them in a basket, and pulled open the sliding glass door leading to the backyard.
After flipping on the lights back there, I stepped out. “Come on. I promise I’ll make sure you don’t freeze.”
Temps had dropped but we’d be fine. I pulled off the cover I used for the little patio set I had out here and gestured to it. “Have a seat and grab one of those blankets from the basket.”
In another minute, I had the firepit snapping and crackling with orange flames dancing in front of us. I broke out the SMORES ingredients and held out a metal skewer to her.
“Wanna toast a marshmallow?”
Her lips pinched just a little, but then her pleased smile spread them wide. My heart flipped, so I redirected my attention to the bag of marshmallows and threaded one on the stick while she did the same.
We sat in silence, slowly roasting each side of the sticky-sweet goodness until mine caught on fire and I squawked. She instantly cracked up and victory flooded my veins despite the singed treat. Was there anything better than helping someone feel better when they’d been brought low?
“I have graham crackers, Hershey’s bars, and for your consideration, a cookies and cream chocolate bar.” I produced the plate with the items and flashed my brows.
“Cookies and cream, huh?”
“I actually discovered these courtesy of Bruce’s sister, Kiley. She made a s’mores bar last summer and had these and they changed my s’mores future.” I said this in the most affected, dramatic way possible.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said, meeting my sense of drama head on, then sliding her marshmallow between two graham crackers and a very plain, very not cookies and cream chocolate bar.
“I see you’re taking my advice.”
She took an endearingly large bite of her creation and chewed it, eyes shutting for a moment before she swallowed and smiled. “Don’t mess with perfection.”
Oh, dear, I liked that. I liked the little attitude popping up and the discovery that this woman genuinely liked s’mores. I mean, they were good, but this was really just something to do to give us the excuse to sit outside and look at the stars and have a fire so we didn’t freeze.
“Fair enough,” I said, eyes snagging on the chocolate still on her bottom lip.
Blame the cold or the feelings seeping through my resolution to stay friendly or the fact she had the most gorgeous lips… whatever the cause, I lost all hesitation and reached up and swiped my thumb across her lip, then licked the chocolate from the pad of my finger.
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes followed my movements, narrowing on my mouth when I licked away the chocolate that had just been on her lip.
The moment stretched between us, a galaxy of stars above us and the fire crackling, bathing us in heat, and my heart galloped.Kiss her. Kiss her.
If I did, it’d change everything. And even though she was giving me those eyes, looking at my lips like she wanted them on hers, it could ruin everything. Not just our working relationship, but her whole time here. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to have that rest and peace she so clearly needed if she felt like I was here drooling after her, waiting to kiss her.
The breeze shifted and along with it, the smoke, which broke the tension and confirmed it was best to leave it be between us.
