Page 274 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“Absolutely not,” he says with enough conviction that I immediately believe him. “What do you take me for? But afteryou fell asleep, I shifted you down so you would be more comfortable, andyou kissed me.”
“I didn’t.”
He laughs. “You did. Reached up, tugged me down by the shirt, and planted one right on my lips.” He leans a little closer. “Like you wanted me.”
I gasp. “I did not.” My hands fly to my face, fire already pooling in my cheeks.
Lennox grins. “You’re blushing, Tatum.”
“Seriously, Lennox?” I shift my hands so they’re covering my eyes, too. “You aren’t supposed to point it out.”
“What should I do instead?” he asks, his tone playful.
“You should pretend like you don’t notice at all. Celebrate on the inside if you want, but don’t make me sit here feeling all embarrassed because now I know thatyouknow how much you . . . make me feel,” I say softly.
He’s quiet for a beat, then he unbuttons the top of his chef’s coat and reaches for my free hand. He tugs it toward him and slips it inside the coat, pressing it against his heart. His chest is warm under my palm, and I feel thethump thump thumpof his racing heart.
“Now we’re even,” he says softly. “Now you know whatyoudo tome.”
Oh, he’s good,I think, but when I look into his eyes, there’s a certainty there that makes me think he isn’t just feeding me a line. I’m not being played. Whatever this is, it’sreal.
He smiles. “I should go help Zach finish up.”
I bite my lip and nod. “You know he’s going to guess exactly what you’ve been doing.”
Lennox leans forward and brushes another kiss across my lips. “I hope he does,” he says, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “I want him and everyone else to know that I’m theonlyone around here who gets to think about kissing you.”
“Just around here?” I lean up and kiss him again.
His grip on me tightens. “Anywhere. You’re mine now, Tatum.”
“How very caveman of you,” I say, my tone teasing.
He leans back and makes eye contact, his expression giving me the choice his words lacked. “Iwantyou to be mine.”
“Better,” I say. “And there’s nothing that I want more.”
He helps me off the freezer and walks me to the bottom of the stairs that lead up to my apartment. He touches my elbow, his expression so full of warmth and tenderness, it’s all I can do to stay upright. “I’ll text you later?” he says.
I nod. “I would love that.”
An hour later, after I’ve showered and put on my pajamas, a knock sounds on my apartment door.
I open it to find one of Lennox’s waitstaff holding a to-go container. She holds it out to me. “Compliments of the chef,” she says.
I don’t even have to open the container to know what it is.
Halfway through my meal, a text message from Lennox pops up.
Lennox:What was the first food eaten in space?
A trivia question?
Before I can type in the answer, another message pops up.
Lennox: Also, hi. ??
Tatum:Sorry, can’t talk right now. I’m eating the best pork tenderloin ever.
