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Brant pushed back from the table. “I hate to eat and run, but I have some things to attend to.” He gave Brock a meaningful look.
I would have to ask Brock what things meant later.
“Dani, can you make sure Brock gets home safely?” he teased me.
“I can probably manage that; I’ll order an Uber for him,” I playfully responded.
Brock didn’t think it was all that funny and pulled me onto his lap. “Uber?” He nuzzled my neck.
“We’re out of here.” Sebastian popped up.
“I would rather do the dishes than watch this.” Max followed him.
I giggled and shivered while Brock’s stubbled cheeks assaulted my neck in the very best way. “Fine, I’ll take you home.”
Brant gave us a sad smile before covertly catching a glance of Kinsley and Tristan clearing the “adult” table together. I wanted to tell him that he would find someone who would make him ridiculously happy one day, but he didn’t give me the chance.
“I’ll see you later.” He walked off without another word and headed straight for Grandma to give her a hug and say thank you before he left. I noticed how Kinsley quickly glanced Brant’s way as he walked out the door. I could see in her eyes the goodbye. She was letting go. That was good.
“I feel bad,” I said for Brock’s ears only.
“Don’t. I’ll fill you in when we’re alone.”
Alone. I needed time with my husband.
Brock must have had the same idea as me—the quicker we cleaned up, the quicker we could leave. He used his army training to start an assembly line for the dishes and assigned Max and Sebastian trash duty. My sisters smiled at me like they thought he was a man on a mission that ended in the bedroom. If only they knew how messed up our relationship had been. How we had never shared such intimacies. It was something I could never share with them, even though I could really use some advice. How did I make love to my husband? Okay, I didn’t need to know the mechanics. I needed to know how to let go. How to trust him and myself. I’d been asking myself this for weeks, thinking I had a couple of weeks before he got home. Before I had to make any real decisions regarding sex. I still wasn’t sure where my head was at.
As anxious as I was to be alone with Brock, I found I was nervous when we walked out to the car. Brock held my hand and his pace quickened. The snow was gently falling around us like glitter against the night sky. I stopped when we made it to the passenger side to look up and let the cold specks prick my face. I needed a moment before I stepped into the car, knowing that real life began for Brock and me as soon as I was in and the door closed behind me.
Brock tipped his head back to see what I was looking at. When he couldn’t see anything, he asked, “Did you not want to be my partner?”
I reached up, and my fingers brushed his stubbled cheeks, red from the cold. “I do, I’m just wondering how to be your partner.” I wasn’t talking about hide-and-go-seek.
He grabbed my hand and kissed my fingers. “We’re going to figure it out together.”
“Okay. Let’s do this.”Chapter Twenty-NineBrock drove us to my old high school and parked the car between two of the campus buildings in hopes we wouldn’t be found. We texted our two clues to where we might be hiding to the group chat and waited.
I held my phone with the still-cracked screen between my hands and stared out the snow-covered window.
Brock brushed my hair back off my shoulder. “I missed you.”
I turned toward him and met his eyes. They no longer raged and stormed; instead they looked like a calm, clear blue ocean. “I missed you too.”
He leaned more toward me, taking my face in his hands, drawing us closer. I could smell the pumpkin pie on his breath, making me hungry for dessert. Not pie—something much sweeter. His thumb slid across my lower lip. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone.”
“I hope I wasn’t a distraction in your healing journey.”
“Not at all. You made the journey worth it.” He inched forward and pressed a soft kiss to my brow, then my nose. Each cheek was next. Every touch of his lips sent a current of electricity through me and warmed me more than the car heater ever could. By the time he kissed the corner of my mouth, my lips were hungry for his to crash into mine.
“Dani,” he groaned.
“Yes?” I breathed out.
“I love you.”
His lips collided with mine. He was eager to taste me and urged my mouth to part. I was just as desperate, and soon our tongues were tangled in a wild rhythm all their own. Our hands were equally impatient and took liberties running through each other’s hair. Brock ran his hands up my sleeves, seeking to touch more of me, gripping my shoulders while pushing himself over the console to remove the distance between us. My hands grasped his shirt and urged him closer, so much so that he pressed me against the passenger door.
