Page 213 of Branded
Maybe some I’d have filled with that passion fruit cream.
Maybe I’d fill a couple with other things—mustard, maybe, relish…apparently, I could only think of sandwich condiments. But it’d be a good way to get Smitty back for being a pain in the ass…and it would get me back to my old tricks.
Or pranks.
Plus, I’d get another chance to bring Beth a treat that had started her smiling and kept her smiling the entire helicopter flight home.
Or maybe that was just this night.
It was magical…and not just the time we’d spent together. It was more, as though I’d gotten behind her walls. She’d given. She’d talked to me, not putting me off or closing down. But she’d actually talked about her life in New York before she’d moved to Baltimore—her favorite places, her job, the things she’d liked to do, her regular haunts. Not just trying to make me laugh or talk about myself. She’d shared.
So, I was riding my own high, feeling like I’d won the game to win all games.
Except, it was more important than any game I’d ever played.
So, I was enjoying the moment, soaking in the gains I’d made, but I was also planning the next steps, how to gain momentum and not lose ground.
“Raph?”
I blinked, realized I’d been so lost in my head that I’d driven us back to my place, and shit, that wasn’t what I’d been planning on doing. I was going to drive Beth home, coax a kiss out of her, and then leave her on her doorstep because I had to catch an early afternoon flight and it was late.
Instead, we were sitting inside my garage, the engine of my car still running even as the heavy metal door slid closed behind us.
“Just saying, if you’re trying for murder, the proper time was before you shelled out for dinner, helicopter rides, and specialty cream puffs.”
Funny.
Always making me smile.
“I meant to take you home,” I said. “I didn’t want?—”
“I wanted,” she said. “I want.”
My breath caught…and truthfully, my dick went hard.
“And the bonus is that here is closer than my place.”
“I have to fly out tomorrow.”
“I know,” she said. “So, I’ll catch a Lyft in the morning.” Her fingers flexed slightly. “Or you can drop me at home.”
“Or,” I whispered, aware that I could be pushing too much too fast, “you could just stay and hang here and borrow my car if you need to get home.”
“Your car?”
“Smitty and I carpool.”
That was a lie, and my friend would give me no little amount of shit for it. But if it meant that Beth would stay, would sleep in my bed, would make a small place for herself in my home…
Yeah, I’d gladly shovel it.
Gladly.
“How about I stay tonight?” she said softly. “And tomorrow we’ll play it by ear.”
That sounded…far better than anything I could have hoped for.
“Works for me,” I murmured, hitting the button to turn off my car and then getting out, rounding the hood.
