Page 33 of Raised On It (Between the Pines #1)

N ow, here I am, getting ready for my dinner date after a day spent doing what I do when I have a lot on my mind.

I nested.

I did laundry. I swept the floors. I cleaned the bathroom. Organized.

I may not be pregnant, but this is what I do when my brain won’t stop and it’s not because of a story I need to get down on the page.

It’s what I do to find a way to control a situation out of my control.

Even though this situation appears to be completely in my control, I have no control over my feelings for Miles.

And. That. Scares. Me.

Hence, the nesting.

As organized as everything is, I shouldn’t be standing here staring into the closet like I have no clue what’s inside, but here I am.

I didn’t pack for dinner dates or to impress a man.

I packed for hot summer days and long, late nights at my computer.

Of course dinner could be at The Jury Room, or it could be at Tom’s for milkshakes.

Either way, tonight feels important.

Have I made any decisions? I’m not sure I have.

He did ask me to consider the possibility of us and not whether or not I was moving here or marrying him. Just considering the possibility of what could be. When I think of it that way, my nerves settle enough for me to pull a dress off its hanger and get ready.

It’s hot as Hades outside, but I leave my hair down, taking my time to add big curls that I tamed into long, loose waves. My peach floral dress hits me mid-thigh—like I know he likes—and with my three-inch wedges on, my legs look ten feet long.

Too much for a weekday dinner?

Not enough for a night with Miles?

My time to deliberate is over with the sound of a knock on the front door.

Suddenly, the air-conditioned house is crazy hot, and I’d give anything to have my hair up off my neck. My heart beats like the wings of a hummingbird, and the nerves that are stirring up in my stomach are irrational. Just knowing he’s here has me hot and bothered, shy and nervous.

Rushing to the door, I tell myself, it’s only Miles . The man you’ve felt so comfortable around these past weeks. He’s your friend. A good man. He cares about you.

Just. Calm. Down.

My hand, clammy palm and all, turns the doorknob, and the instant my eyes take him in, I know my worries have been ill-founded.

I love this man.

Every larger than life, CEO, flirty, farm boy piece of him.

As he stands in front of me sans hat but wearing a small smile and a sparkle in his caramel eyes, there is no doubt in my heart, mind, body, and soul how I feel about him.

He’s been at the office today if the polo and dark jeans are any indication. I much prefer his version of CEO over the stuffed shirt version, but I prefer his farm boy jeans and T-shirt look even more.

“Baby, I know it’s Monday, but damn if you don’t look like a Saturday night.”

“Thank you.”

“You gonna let me in, or you just gonna stand here letting all the cool air out?”

Stepping aside, I let him in and shut the door behind us.

He only takes a couple of steps away from the door before turning to face me. Staring into my eyes, he searches my soul for the meaning of life.

Pressing my back against the front door and closing it in the process, I try to find the words to properly tell him how I feel.

If only I could say all the right things like my characters do in my books.

If ever there was a time when I wouldn’t mind life imitating art, this would be it, but no such luck.

“I got your note.”

“Yeah?” He takes a step closer, placing himself a few small breathless inches between us.

“Yeah.”

“And?” His boots shuffle closer, and his one-word question flutters across my skin.

There’s no controlling myself when my lips press against his, and he opens up for me. He grips my hip, and with his chest pressed against mine, I’m melting into the door as our bodies try desperately to become one.

The muscles of his back flex under my fingers while he flexes something else against my belly.

“So, does this mean you’re giving us a chance?” he asks against my lips .

“What do you think?”

He stops the kissing and heavy petting, pressing his forehead against mine.

“I think you love me, and you're scared.”

“I think you’re right.”

“But still, you love me.”

“I do.”

He kisses me on the nose.

“And I love you. I’d say that’s a pretty good place to start.”

“It is.”

He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes.

“You love me just the way I am, City Mouse?”

Is that a blip of insecurity hanging off Miles Montgomery, or is he just making sure I know he is what he is and he’s not changing. Either way, I do love him just the way he is.

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?” I tease, knowing full well what he wants.

“Give me the three little words I need to hear.”

“What words would those be?”

His big calloused hand cradles my face as his thumb caresses my cheek. His eyes beg me to say the words. And there’s no possible way to deny him.

“I love you, Miles. All of you.”

Expecting his charming smile after getting his way, I’m surprised by the serious look on his face.

His thumb continues to brush over my cheek and his eyes no longer searching mine speak directly to me. They thank me for loving him. For giving him a chance. For giving us a chance.

“I love you too, Mason.” He places a sweet kiss on my lips, and I melt on the spot. “Come on, if we don’t leave now, we’ll never make it to dinner.”

“That’s fine with me.”

After separating himself from me, he adjusts the bulge in his pants. When I step toward him, he steps away from me, knowing my dastardly plan to keep us in all night.

“Don’t you worry, baby. You’ll get what you’re looking for, but first, I need to feed you. Why don’t you throw some things in a bag? We’re staying at my place tonight.”

“Oh, we are, are we?”

“If you don’t mind, Lou would sure appreciate it.”

“Oh, well if it’s for Lou, then of course.”

Quickly, I throw some things in an overnight bag while floating around the house like I’ve been sprinkled with pixie dust and wondering how I could have ever had my doubts.