It was a chillier day in Denver, and it was the first time I had seen Fisher in a beanie. I wanted to cry. He looked so sexy. Sexy for her, not me.
“Hey.” He grinned too big, said hey with too much enthusiasm.
I managed to return two raised eyebrows and a closed-lipped smile.
“Let me take your bag. I’ll meet you in the truck. No rush.”
I relinquished my bag.
“Hopefully, we’ll only be an hour or two behind. Did you get our gear that I set by the garage?” Rose asked.
“I did,” Fisher said just before shutting the door.
“No pouting. It’s not the worst thing ever.” Rose handed me a thermos. “Hot chocolate for the road.”
“Thanks.” I took it.
“See you in a few hours?”
“Yup.” I went out the front door.
Fisher’s truck was backed into the driveway. I wasn’t going to sit behind Fisher and have Angie glancing at me every two seconds, so I walked around to the passenger side so my view would be of Fisher.
I opened the back door. “Um …” I glanced up front to the empty seat. “I thought you picked Angie up already.” I climbed into the back.
“Get your ass up here.” He glanced at me and grinned.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Happy birthday.”
“It’s not my birthday until tomorrow.”
“Yes, but I’m giving you your present now.”
“My present is riding in the front seat? I’m not ten. And Angie riding in back is just weird.”
“But Angie’s not going, so it’s only weird if you ride in back.”
“What?” My eyes widened.
“She’s not going. Just get up front before Rose comes out here because she doesn’t understand why I’m still parked in the driveway.”
I hopped in the front seat, and Fisher wasted no time pulling out of the driveway.
“Is she okay?” I didn’t want to accidentally smile or squeal with joy if something was wrong with Angie. I wasn’t a catty bitch by nature.
“She’s fine. Just a little headache.”
“She stayed home for just a little headache?”
He shrugged. “I suggested she stay home.”
“Why?”
With a contemplative expression, he kept his gaze forward. “Because I love you today. And I think there’s a high probability that I will love you tomorrow—on your birthday. Loving you means making your birthday as special as possible.”
“Pull over.”
“What?” He shot me a quick glance. “You feeling okay?”
“Pull over now.”
He veered off the road just before we reached the interstate.
I unbuckled and crawled over the console.
“Whoa … what are you—”
With one leg still on the console and my other leg pressed between his legs so my knee was on the seat, I grabbed his face and kissed him.
It took him a second—two at the most—to get past the shock of my sudden need to kiss him, hug him, love him. One of his hands found my waist and his other hand palmed my backside.
“I love you.” I moved my eager mouth from his lips to his cheeks, showering him with kisses. “I love you so much.”