“I don’t remember—”
“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me, Ford. I can read you like a book.”
“Can you?” I ask. “So then why don’t you tell me what makes me smile?”
“I want you to say it.”
“But if you know me so well . . . ,” I tease.
“Then I know this is hard for you, and I want you to be able to speak your mind, so speak up.”
“But if you know me, then you already know,” I challenge, trying to delay the inevitable while I attempt to think of something else. Definitely not the blanket.
“Ford.”
“What?” I smile.
“Tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know.”
“Just because you want to know doesn’t mean you should know.”
Her brow creases. “You tell me everything.”
A dry laugh pops out of me. “Not everything.”
“Then share with me—come on.”
I shake my head, my heart rate starting to pick up from her nagging. “No.”
“Ford, I’m serious. Let’s get it all out there. In the open.”
“Not a good idea,” I say, shaking my head as she scoots closer and puts her hand on my thigh.
“No, this is a great idea. This would be a great way to move forward. Get everything out there.”
“Larkin.” I shake my head. “No.”
“Why? Are you scared? You don’t need to be scared around me.”
“I’m not scared around you—”
“Then what is it?”
“It was you!” I shout, unable to hold it back any longer.
“What?” she asks, looking stunned.
Knowing this is crossing the line in the worst way possible, but unable to take it any longer, I reach out, grip her cheek, and rub my thumb over her soft, rosy-colored skin. “It was you, Larkin, that made me smile. All fucking you . . .”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
PALMER
I hold my breath.
Thunder rumbles in the background.
The puzzle rests in front of us, untouched.
And my body itches with desire as Beau glances down at my mouth and then back up at my eyes.
I want him to kiss me.
I want this more than anything.
As he leans in, my breath catches in my chest, my pulse hammering impatiently, drowning out the commotion of the storm outside. I wet my lips one last time, and as he closes the space between us, I brace myself for— Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Dr. Beau, are you home?”
Beau shoots back and stands from the couch.
“It’s an emergency, Dr. Beau, please tell us you’re home.”
The affectionate, easygoing, sweet man who was just wooing me in all the right ways morphs into Mr. Emergency Room. He bolts over to the door, flinging it open to reveal a woman holding what looks to be a two-year-old in her arms.
“Margorie, what’s wrong?”
“He did it again,” she says.
The boy turns around, showing off some sort of action figure dog stuck in his nostril.
“Chase is on the case,” the little boy says. “On the booger case.” And then he laughs, his voice nasally.
“He won’t let me pull it out. Please, can you help remove it?”
“Of course,” Beau says with a reassuring touch to the mom’s arm. “Meet me downstairs and I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you,” she says and takes off, the kid giggling the entire time.
Beau shuts the door and goes straight to his bedroom. I’m about to ask him what he’s doing, but when he comes back wearing a pair of jeans, his hair slightly styled to the side, I realize he’s in doctor mode. As he puts on his shoes, he looks over at me, still sitting on the couch, our mood completely ruined by a plastic dog up the nose.
“Shit. I’m sorry, Palmer.”
“It’s okay.” I smile at him. “Go have fun plucking that out.”
“It’ll take two seconds, I promise.”
“Seriously, it’s fine. Do what you need to do.”
“Promise you’re not going to leave?”
I glance out the window and then back at him. “It’s still raining, I have no way of getting home, and I don’t want to get another recast because I get this wet again,” I say, holding up my arm. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to be staying put.”
“Good.” He walks up to me, places both hands on the back of the couch, and leans down, pressing a kiss on my forehead. “Be back.” My stomach flutters.