You, With a View(74)
A leap of faith taken when I had no faith left has turned into this.
Paul squeezes me tight. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. And your grandma would be so proud, too.”
My heart swells. “She would, wouldn’t she?”
He grins. “Absolutely.”
I pull back, splitting a look between him and Theo, who’s watching the two of us. “I know it’s just one job. It’s not life changing, but . . .”
“A career in photography isn’t easy, if that’s what you want,” Paul says. “But this is a wonderful step. You’ve made so many of them during this trip, and you should be proud of that.”
It swells in my chest. “I am.”
Paul looks at Theo, then back at me with a wink. “I’ll meet you at the Jeep.”
“Folks, we’re going to head out in a minute,” our guide calls.
Theo ignores him, stepping closer to me. He slips my phone into my hand, then cups my face in his. His thumb moves over my flushed cheek. “I have a secret, and I should’ve told you earlier.”
“What?”
He shakes his head, grinning. “I fucking knew you could do this. You’re so good, Noelle.”
His confession is a shot of adrenaline to my heart. It starts beating double-time. “Don’t go crazy with the praise, okay? First of all, it’s not like you—”
He lets out a huff of insulted laughter. “What, I’m not me if I’m complimenting you?”
I give him a pointed look, running a hand over his T-shirt clad chest. “Take it down a notch with the conclusion jumping. You can compliment me, you’ve just got to put a little spice in it.”
He course corrects. “You’re so good, it’s annoying.”
I nod, satisfied. “Better.”
“You’re intensely weird,” he says affectionately.
“A little soft on delivery, but otherwise perfect.”
He rolls his eyes, grabbing my wrist so he can tow me closer. “You said first of all before, so what’s the second of all?”
“Oh, right. Second of all, it’s exciting, but it’s small. And just one job.”
For a beat, he appraises me. “You have no idea how amazing you are, do you?”
“I—” I swallow the urge to diminish this moment. I need this win, and I’m going to take it. I’m going to let him see me grab it with both hands. “I feel pretty amazing right now, actually.”
His gaze turns warm and tender. I’m some soft candy melting in the heat of it. “You’re good at this.”
“Hell yeah, I’m good at this.”
That warmth flares into something molten, and his grin grows from small to brilliant. “Let’s go celebrate tonight. Just you and me.”
“What about Paul?”
“Guarantee you he’ll pretend to be too tired to socialize with us later,” Theo says. “And I want you to myself, anyway.”
My heart floats off into space. “Okay.”
His gaze drops to my mouth. “I’m going to kiss the hell out of you now.”
“Okay,” I repeat, dazed.
He does, right in front of Paul and the family of four who’s on the tour with us.
And, I suspect, in front of Gram, too, wherever she is.
Twenty-Five
God, that was good.”
Theo looks over at me, his face shadowed as we cross the dark parking lot, hands clasped. “Request for you to say that later tonight, in exactly that same tone of voice.”
I pull out of his hold, turning so that I’m walking backwards ahead of him. “I don’t take requests. You’re going to have to make me.”
His eyes sweep down my body; I’m wearing the Vegas outfit since I have nothing else. He watched me all through dinner like it was the first time I’d worn it.
We get to the van, and Theo backs me against it until there’s a millimeter of space between us. If I breathed, we’d be touching. I don’t, just to watch his eyes darken.
“Shepard,” he says in that velvet voice. It brushes over me the way his palm does, stroking up my neck until his hand is bracketing my jaw. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been making you nearly this entire trip.”
You can make me for a lot longer than that. I raise an eyebrow. “You think so?”
“You do it right in my ear, so yeah.” His mouth pulls up into a smirk. “I know so.”
“Then we’d better go so you can get on it.”
“I can’t wait to get on it.” He reaches behind me for the door handle. But instead of moving us so he can open it, he leans down to brush his mouth against mine, then parts his lips, inviting me to do the same. I taste the wine we had on his tongue, the lemon tart we shared. It was Theo in dessert form: sweet with a bite.
It’s been more than a year since I’ve been on a date, and none have ever felt like this—like it’s the start of something I’m desperate to name but can’t, whether it’s too soon or because we don’t have enough time left. As Theo kisses me with the moon peeking down at us, I know he feels it, too. It’s in the pace of his mouth moving over mine, the way he leans into me like he knows I can handle the weight of us, the way his hand tightens in my hair. It makes my kiss turn desperate.