Page 5 of Butter My Biscuit

He gives it to me a little harder, and a breathy moan escapes me.

“Ah.” I try to recover. “So, you heard that?”

He clears his throat. “I wasn’t eavesdropping. I just?—”

“No, it’s fine. Real talk? Sometimes, I think about leaving Valentine. And forlove, I would.”

He doesn’t say anything.

I smirk over my shoulder, the bun in my hair nearly smacking him. “Would you miss me if I left?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

I fully turn around and face him, placing my hands on his thighs. The lights from the hot tub cast reflections on our faces. “You would. You have fun with me. Just admit it.”

Harrison exhales. “You know I’d miss you, Gracie.”

I smile. “Me too though. Sometimes, you’re the only reason I stay. I mean, because who else is going to watch sappy ’90s rom-coms with me?”

“You’re right about that. I’m kinda irreplaceable, babe.” He smiles. “So, I guess that means you two are serious?”

I hand him the wine. “Yeah, it’s been a year, and if he wants to progress the relationship forward, then I want to give us a real chance. My lease doesn’t expire for another six months. So, I have time to think about it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He looks hurt.

“I didn’t want to talk about things until I knew for sure. No use in worrying about something until it’s reality, ya know?”

“Right. But I’d still like to be prepared. And not find out, like,two weeksbefore you leave or something.”

“Well, since we’re on the subject, can I count you in for helping me pack my shit?”

Harrison shakes his head, removing his hands from me, and I roll my neck around.

“You just want me for my muscles and my truck. It’s all I’m good for.”

I laugh, giving him a smile. “Doesn’t every woman?”

“Point taken.”

“But I’m sure there are many other qualities you’ve got goin’ for you.” My eyes slide up and down his body. “Like?—”

Just as I’m about to say something, a loud ding-dong sweeps the moment away.

“Was that the doorbell?” I ask.

“Oh shit, yeah. The pizza. Hold on.”

He quickly stands, water sloshing around, and steps out of the hot tub. He runs through the backyard barefoot and opens the side gate. Moments later, he returns with a large pizza box in his hand. When he opens it up and the meaty aroma wafts my way, my mouth waters. I see cheese and a thick crust with pepperoni, mushrooms, and black olives.

“You’re speaking my love language!” I stand with the wine held tightly in my grip.

Harrison holds out his hand, helping me down so I don’t bust my ass. While I was nearly sweating in the water, now that I’m out, I’m cold. He hands me the pizza then wraps a towel around me before doing the same.

“Let’s light the fireplace,” I tell him once we’re inside.

“Good idea.”

Water drips down his chest, and he hurries and dries off before walking through the house. I set the box down on the coffee table, grab two cups for our wine, and napkins.

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