Page 53 of Don't Bite the Boy Next Door

“I don’t understand,” I shake my head.

“I know,” he takes a deep breath. “I’ve pushed you away at every opportunity, as I’ve pushed any woman away who tried to care for me. But with you, it became impossible. You are so sweet and strange, so gentle and kind. I thought about you all the time, contrived ways I might meet you, even though I warred with myself over it. When Tristan told me about the magical lure between vampire and Irresistible, I thought I finally had the answer. I convinced myself it was just an unnatural desire to be around you – that it wasn’t real – that if I could stay away, it would go away. But then you moved in, and try as I might, I rejoiced in having you so close.”

“You avoided me like the plague,” I shake my head.

“I tried,” he nods, “but yesterday,” he looks earnestly into my eyes, “my conversation with my mother helped me realise that the only reason I’ve been keeping away from you, trying to stop loving you, is my fear that I’m not good enough to have someone like you in my life. My fear that I might become my father.”

“Ryan,” I knit my brows, deciphering all he has said, yet not daring to believe that he just said he wanted to be around me, “you could never be like that.”

“I know, I know that now,” he sighs, “and I know I can and will protect you, Tess, if you’ll let me.”

“No,” I shake my head, “I don’t need protecting, Ryan. You’ve paid your dues, you looked after me when I needed to hide. Now you can live your life as you choose, run the farm as it was always meant to be, as one large lot. It was never right to have the forest divided by fences; I’ve always known that. I’m sure there is bound to be another farm out there equally, if not more, beautiful than this. And,” I take a deep breath, “I’d rather move somewhere with neighbours who want me nearby.”

My heart is breaking as I say this, at the thought of leaving my beautiful slice of Minnesota, of leaving him. I feel tears close. I need to end this conversation while I still have some dignity.

Stepping back, I move to shut the door. But he shakes his head, stepping forward to hold the door open with one hand.

“Tess, you’re not listening. I do want the farm to be back as one lot. I don’t want it divided anymore because I don’t wantusdivided any more.

“What?”

“It might not be today,” he says, his voice soft, hesitant, like he is tasting each word on his tongue before releasing it, “or even next year, or the year after. But one of these days, Snow, I want you to look at me the same way you look at that pig of yours,” he smiles. “I want you to kiss me on the nose each night before you leave the house and let me sleep in your bed.”

“Oh.”

I don’t know what else to say, but I don’t have to say anything, as he bridges the distance between us and pulls me into his arms.

Almost of their own accord, my own slip around his neck.

“Say you’ll stay,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine, “please, stay.”

The tears that have been building begin to slip down my cheeks, as I pull my face from his, and nod, staring down at his chest, still unable to believe my ears.

‘Could it be possible? Could he really want to be my prince, after all?’

Leaning back, he bends his head to the side, to try and have me look at him, meet his eyes, but I still can’t. I’m so overwhelmed by the depth of my relief and surprise and joy.

“Is that mistletoe?” he murmurs.

I raise my eyes to the unadorned ceiling he is now studying, before meeting his earnest gaze.

His eyes are gentle, as they always are, and now filled with mirth and love.

“Yes.”