Page 44 of Branded
But it was said with twitching lips as she pulled out the cookbook by one of the contestants from the show she had been watching the night before.
“For the next time you…get some inspiration.”
A sigh and a smile and a shake of her head.
The Classic Smitty response as my mom would say.
But then fire in green eyes. The exasperated smile turning sinful. “Did you?” she asked, setting the book down and drifting closer.
“Did I what?” I asked, trailing my fingers through the ends of her hair, smelling the soft notes of flowers in the locks, the cinnamon on her breath and her skin, studying the spray of freckles that danced over her pert nose.
“Did you”—she rose on tiptoe, leaned up to whisper in my ear—“find…inspiration?”
I jumped when she flicked out her tongue.
And she dropped back onto her heels, smirking liked she’d won.
But since I could take it as well as I dished it out, I wrapped an arm around her waist, drew her flush to me, and said, “I did, little bird. Three times.” A nip to the corner of her jaw. “Once before I called you. Once after we hung up.” I flexed my hips lightly, just enough for her to feel that I was ready to find inspiration again. “And once more this morning, just before I went out to buy that.”
A shudder skating through her frame. “Why?” she whispered.
“Mmm?” I inhaled the scent of her, drawing it deep into my lungs. “Why what?”
“Why did you get the book?”
I pressed my lips to her throat and then straightened, letting a little distance come between us. “Because I like teasing you.”
Her brows drew together. “Why?”
I brushed a thumb beneath one eye then the other. “Because these shoot sparks at me.”
The lines on her forehead deepened. “You want me to be annoyed with you?”
Yeah. I did. “Yeah, little bird, because you being annoyed with me means that you’re not anxious around me, that you’re seeing me, the real, annoying me”—more sparks that had me grinning, had her swatting me lightly on the chest—“and you’re not in your head, not full of worry. You’re here, in this moment, with me.”
“I—” She paused for a long minute, seeming to consider that. Then her hand pressed to the spot over my heart, the one that was thudding away steadily, waiting for her verdict on that, hoping it was true, hoping that she’d agree with me. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I…am comfortable with you. I don’t know why,” she added, and I grinned at the perplexity that joined her expression. “By all accounts, I shouldn’t be.”
“It’s because we’re meant to be together,” I said, matter-of-factly.
Her eyes went wide. “Um…what?”
“Yup.” Inside, my heart was pounding, but outside I tried to play it cool…or as cool as I ever did. “I saw you and I knew. Some part of you knows that now.”
“I…” She turned away, pushed her hand through her hair. “You know that sounds absolutely insane, right?”
“I do,” I agreed.
Her gaze slid over her shoulder. “Right. So…”
A shrug. “It doesn’t change what’s in here.” I pressed my fist to the spot over my heart. “This knows. It just…takes some time for the rest of it to catch up.”
Her fingers played along the edge of the cookbook. “And what if it doesn’t?”
I knew that wasn’t going to happen. The heat. The kiss. The phone call. Her being comfortable with me.
I’d known this woman was it for me from the moment I’d laid eyes on her.
I’d make sure it happened.
