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“Are you crying?”
Again, no point in lying. She smiled. “Yes.”
Colby leaned over, pressing her into the bed. His jaw flexed, and he locked his eyes with hers. Such intensity. Her stomach flipped, sending a rush from her head to her toes.
“Sweet Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No. No, this is… welcome.” She snorted a laugh.Very attractive.
He laughed at her oh-so feminine laugh. “If you say so, Dr. Freud. Smiling and crying don’t mix.”
“They do right now.”
“And why is that?”
“Because my world changed, too.”
That was an understatement if there ever was one. Was there a handsome man and even a dog in her future? Years of studying psychology went out the door. None of this made sense. Nothing was practical. But here she was, a veteran gunfight spectator and kidnapping survivor. Liberated with simple words from a warrior.
Liberated. She played with the idea, turning the word over in her head. Liberated worked and was the truth. That was an accomplishment and, because of it, she earned anything she wanted. A fluffy puppy with an appropriate name like Killer or Slayer. A sexy man who wanted nothing more than to keep her safe and in bed. Life was marvelous.
“What do you think about dinner?” he asked.
“I’m not hungry.”
“No, I mean, do you want to go to dinner tomorrow night?”
“Like a date?” Even as the shadows faded over the room, she saw him blush.
“Yes, like a date, doll. Like candlelight and roses.”
A date with candlelight and roses? He surprised her when she least expected it, though that was the exact definition of surprise. A suit and dress shirt on his solid body might be her greatest weakness. Would she be able to hold a decent conversation while admiring the view?
Her heart sunk. So close and she was going to ruin it. “All I have to wear are your mom’s sweatpants and shirt. Very sexy.”
“We can remedy that hiccup.”
“What? You’re going to be my white knight fashionista?”
“I’m your whatever-it-takes-to-keep-you-happy-ista.”
Whatever it took? She should define that so he wasn’t left grasping at assumptions in the proverbial dark.
“I can run out tomorrow morning and pick something out,” she said.
“No sweater sets. Or khaki pants.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “I don’t always wear that. I just didn’t plan on more than one outfit on my excursion to Louisville.”
“You need something short and tight.”
She laughed. “Making requests?”
“And low cut.”
“Colby!” Her cheeks heated. “I can dress myself, thank you very much.”
“Just letting you know where my mind is. Are you all done with your smiling tears?”