Page 46 of A Twist of Faith
Several slipped from his grip so Dee bent to collect them. They were journals, fairly prestigious looking too from the binding. Journal of Agricultural Economics? National Journal of Farming Science? She caught a surprised burst of air with her hand and held out the journals to him.
“You’re published? In these?”
He winked and a responsive flutter erupted in her chest. “Shocking, ain … isn’t it?” He flipped through one of the journals and stopped in the middle. “See, here’s my favorite.”
She couldn’t take her eyes from his face. This burly farmer, lifelong mountain man, was published in a research journal? And more than once?
Would he never cease to disprove all her preconceptions? Her mind scrambled to piece everything together. Not only was he strong, a loving father, and kind … but intelligent? How had she not known about his degree? How could she stay so stuck in her misperceptions? Maybe because throughout school she surrounded herself with people who held the same prejudices to make her feel right? She sighed. The arguments against Reese crumbled further, loosening her emotions and the strength in her knees. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes last night. The memory kept her awake, forcing her into further self-reflection, and as she dug deep into her heart, she found him. Waiting.
Was she ready? Willing to be as authentic as him? Would he want her if he knew all of her little secrets? “I … I just didn’t expect. You seem so—”
He took a step closer, voice low. “Ignorant? Crass?”
She couldn’t pull her gaze from his. “No.”
He edged another step. “Pigheaded? Backwoods?”
“No … um,” her words crept out slow, heavy with uncertainty. The interest in his gaze fogged up clear thoughts. “You’ve surprised me again. You—”
“What? I don’t make it on one of your lists?” His gentleness teased her forward. He folded the book together. She rested a hand on his chest, the cotton fabric warmed by his skin beneath. Her breaths grew shallow and utterly useless.
His hand to her waist didn’t help matters. “What do I seem like to you, Dee?” He brushed back a stray hair from her cheek with the back of his fingertips. The sweet depth of his voice chased a row of tingles down her neck. Would he kiss her? She craved it and feared it all at once.
Her fingers wrapped around the cloth of his shirt, pulling him nearer.
The fire in his eyes ignited sparks in her chest. His right brow and corner of his mouth turned upward in question. “How about we try some nonverbal communication?”
His feather-light touch cascaded across her cheek to cup the back of her head. The gentleness in his caress glided across her skin, leaving liquid warmth in its wake. Her eyes flickered closed to focus on the sheer pleasure of his touch. Such a sweet embrace, so sweet it whispered of hopes buried. How long had it been since someone brought her emotions to life? Had anyone ever? Like this?
Deep yearning in her soul awakened with a fury, uncontrolled and beautiful, silencing her reservations.
His hand left her waist and moved to stroke her other cheek, thumb brushing against the dip below her bottom lip. She opened her eyes and lost any fears in the desire in the depths of his coffee-colored eyes. His gaze trailed to her lips and back to her eyes, his brow jotting up as if to ask her permission. In answer, she tugged him closer. He tilted his head slightly, inching nearer, and deepening the sense of wonder spiraling through her chest.So much trust.
His lips barely brushed hers. Dee held her breath.
The truth knifed into the moment’s tenderness.He trusted her. What was she doing?
“Daddy,” Lou called from down the hall. “Daddy, Brandon stinks.”
Reese didn’t move, just looked down at her lips like a hungry man. His lips didn’t look so bad either. Her knees weakened. Her grip on his shirt tightened. His palm swept down to steady her at the waist and he leaned in again.
“Daddy?”
Dee’s mind cleared and she forced herself away. He dropped his hand, but didn’t move, a smile forming slow and easy. He trusted her—and he shouldn’t.
“You wanna trade places for about five minutes?”
The fog in Dee’s brain slowed comprehension. “What?”
“Daddy, I think you’re gonna need a dump truck for this one.”
His heated gaze hovered on her lips and left a fire trail of anticipatory tingles. “Okay, we might have to trade places for ten minutes.”
Dee cleared her throat and stepped further away. “I … I need to go.”
His expression intensified, confident. “I’d run from this too, Dee.” He grabbed her hand before she slipped out of reach. “Grumpy farmer, stinky son, and a bossy little girl? It can only lead to trouble.” He brought her palm to his lips and then let go, turning to the door. “Comin’ Lou—and I’ll bring the dump truck.”
He glanced her way before leaving the room. “Did I mention another of my many good qualities?”
