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Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(60)

Author:Melanie Harlow

“No. We knocked a pan over, and I thought we might take out that wall for a minute, but no damage was done.”

“Good.”

Neither of us spoke for a minute, and I started to think maybe she was right and I was insane, because the thought running through my mind was something like, I could get used to this.

It was so jarring that I couldn’t breathe for a second. I didn’t like getting used to things—that was always the beginning of the end, wasn’t it? That meant I’d get restless and want to move on.

But this felt so fucking good, holding her this way, after what we’d just done—it was hard to imagine ever walking away from her if I actually had a chance to make her mine.

For a second, I understood what my dad meant when he said, I just knew.

But that was nuts. What the fuck did I know? Sure, this felt good now, but inevitably, we’d grow tired of each other. Wouldn’t we? We didn’t want the same things at all. She didn’t even like me that much. She was only here with me now because she couldn’t leave—and if she ever found out I’d kept her in this motel room an extra night just for fun, she’d fucking murder me in my sleep. And I was leaving soon.

I began to breathe normally again.

I was leaving soon, and she’d be glad when I was gone. She’d admitted it at breakfast this morning. She wanted me to go.

My stomach broke the silence between us by growling loudly.

Ellie laughed and sat up. “Hungry?”

“Starving. I never go this long without a meal.”

“Sorry,” she said, a wicked twinkle in her eye. “I distracted you.”

“You can distract me like that any time you want.”

She started laughing.

“What’s funny?”

“Your hair,” she said, reaching over to tousle it. “I’ve never seen it so messy.”

Swatting her hand away, I got off the bed and backed toward the bathroom, arms wide, stark naked. “This is the real me, babe,” I said, feeling oddly vulnerable and yet completely at ease. “Eat your heart out.”

FOURTEEN

ELLIE

After dinner, which we ate at the tiny wooden table near the window, I told Gianni I’d take care of the dishes.

“You shouldn’t be on that foot,” he scolded, following me to the kitchenette with his plate.

“It’s fine.” Standing at the sink, I pushed up my sleeves. “I can stand on it for the ten minutes it’s going to take me to wash a couple plates and forks. Go take a shower, you need it.”

He wrapped me up in his arms from behind. “I thought you said I smelled nice.”

“I’m trying to get rid of you,” I said, gently elbowing him in the gut. “Go away.”

“Okay, but if it’s still puffed up like that tomorrow, you should let me wrap it. And maybe call the doctor when we get back.”

“Yes, Dad.”

Gianni laughed, and a moment later I heard the bathroom door shut and the water come on, the pipes squeaking and shuddering with age and effort.

I washed the couple pans Gianni had used, our plates and forks, and cleaned up the kitchenette as well as I could. We had a little wine left, so I split the rest of it between our glasses and brought them over to the bedside tables.

Stretching out on the mattress, I took a sip and leaned back against the headboard—and that’s when I realized I hadn’t stopped smiling for hours. In fact, this was the most fun I’d ever had with a guy. It was almost enough to make me wish I hadn’t told him to accept Hot Mess . . . if he stayed, was there hope for us? Or was I crazy?

I set my glass down and picked up my phone, discovering I’d missed a call from Winnie. She’d left a voicemail.

“Hey! Hope you’re still doing okay, everything is good here. Dinner was a huge success, and Dex is driving me home now. Felicity stayed to help close up the kitchen, and Gianni’s dad is going to take her home. If we need her tomorrow, she said she can be here anytime. Call me if you can, and I hope you’re still, um, enjoying yourself.” She laughed. “I cannot wait to hear all the details.”

The shower was still running, so I decided to give her a quick call.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” I said quietly, keeping an eye on the bathroom door. “Are you home?”

“Still on the way.”

“How are the roads?”

“Shitty, but the snow has slowed down a lot. I don’t think you’ll have trouble getting back tomorrow.”

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