Page 58 of At First Flight
“I think about you too much. And not just you with the kids. I think about what you’re doing when they go to bed. I think about what you do on your time off. I think about what you wear between your sheets at night. Just…you’re one of my first thoughts in the morning and the last at night,” I confess, wishing I could press the cool glass against my head without embarrassing myself. It’s the most open I’ve been to a woman since my last relationship—a chaotic affair that I swore I wouldn’t experience again.
Just as I’m about to brush my words aside and chalk it up to a moment of weakness, of vulnerability spilling out when I should’ve kept my mouth shut, Lila’s voice breaks through, soft and trembling.
“I think about you, too.”
My heart damn near stops. She’s not looking at me, not quite, her gaze dropping to the floor like her shoes have suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room. She shakes her head, trying to catch her breath and her balance, like admitting even that much has taken something out of her.
“We work together, Dean. You’re my boss, and the kids…” Her voice falters, trailing off into the silence stretching between us.
I scooch closer, not touching her, not yet. My hands curl into fists at my sides to keep from reaching for her.
“You were unexpected, Lila,” I say, voice low and raw. “I never meant to fall for you.”
Her eyes flick up, wide, disbelieving. “You have?” I can’t help but shrug because what I had thought was simply like… has turned into something far more meaningful.
God, the way she says that, like she can’t quite believe it, like no one’s ever looked at her and wanted everything. Her cheeks bloom with color, a soft flush that crawls across her skin and makes my chest ache. She’s standing so still, but her eyes… her eyes say everything. There’s a softness there now, like maybe she’s letting herself hope. Like maybe she wants to believe me.
“I didn’t expect to,” I admit, leaning closer across the table just enough that I can smell the vanilla in her hair. Lila mimics my movement, inclining I speak until there is barely any space between our faces. “But with the way my chest poundswhenever you're close by, I’m smart enough to know what that means.”
Her lips part just slightly, and I swear to God, if I didn’t think it would send her running, I’d kiss her right then and there. But I don’t. I wait. Because she deserves to be the one who chooses.
Still, I don’t miss the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth or the flicker of something tender in her expression. A spark. A maybe.
And it’s enough to keep me there, heart exposed, hoping like hell she’ll catch it.
Lila’s breathing changes—shallow, unsteady. Her eyes flick toward my mouth.
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” she confesses.
“I know. I’m not saying it to push you into anything. I just wanted you to know where I am with everything.”
“I just need a little more time,” she replies, the corner of her lip tilting upward as she mimics me.
“I know your ex hurt you badly, and you need to heal. I don’t make billions rushing into things, Lila. I’m a patient man. I might spend every minute of every waking day imagining what it would be like to kiss you, hold you, taste you, have you. But it will only become a reality whenyoucome tome.”
The air between us is charged, filled with restraint. I’m sure that if she gave the go-ahead, not even the people in the restaurant or the table between us could stop me.
Wanting her is the easy part. Not acting on my desire is the part edging me toward my demise.
“I’ve never felt wanted like this,” she says, just as Lisa sets down the billfold with the check. I slip a hundred inside without glancing at the total.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“What about when my time is up?”
“I’ll still be here…waiting.”
“Dean,” she grumbles.
We leave the café just as the last bits of orange leave the sky. The air has cooled, and the stars are just beginning to make their presence known. One thing I’ve come to love about this town is the way the stars blanket the sky. The only other time I’ve experienced their marvel is in Ashfield, Tennessee, visiting Talon, or when I took a trip to Iceland a few years back.
We walk back to my car, remembering I’ll need to drop Lila off at the school to get the SUV.
“Want to ride back with me, and I’ll call someone to pick up the SUV?”
“Do people just do whatever you want all the time?” she probes.
“Usually,” I reply as I press the button for the ignition, then turn to face her. “Everyone except you it seems.”
