“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I mean, Landon does, but that’s only because he helps me out here and there.” I pause. “And obviously my dad, but he only sold me the land and helped me with the permits. He hasn’t been out to see it yet. I haven’t told anyone else or brought anyone out here.”
“Except me,” she adds, a smile spreading across her lips again. Lips that were wrapped around me in the sweetest way less than an hour ago.
“Except you.”
She hums, folding her arms tightly across her chest to suppress a shiver.
“You cold?”
“I’m fine.”
Tipping my head to the side, I extend my arm for her to take the lead. “Come on. Let’s head back.”
She exhales, shoulders sinking, but doesn’t argue. We start back toward my truck and my hand finds the small of her backlike it belongs there. The simple contact steadies me. It feels so normal, so right. It kills me having to pretend it’s nothing when everyone else is around.
When we get back to the truck, Sadie rounds the hood and starts to open the passenger door, but I intercept, using my entire body to push the door shut.
“What are you d—”
“I have a better idea,” I say, pushing off the truck and circling to the back.
She meets me as I lower the tailgate. My hands curve over her hips, lifting her gently and setting her on the edge. I quickly start up the engine, connect my phone to the Bluetooth, and then settle beside her.
An old Brooks & Dunn song plays through the speakers and I toss my phone to the side, leaning back to pull two beers from the cooler I packed before coming out here. I twist off the cap and hand one to her.
She tries to hide her smirk, shaking her head as she accepts it. She clinks her bottle against mine before taking a long drink.
“Aren’t you just full of surprises?”
If only she knew the half of it.
“Are you still cold?”
She nods. “A little.”
Reaching behind us, I grab one of the blankets that are neatly folded and stacked next to the cooler and wrap it around her shoulders.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want to play your music?”
“Oh.” She blinks. “Um, yeah. Sure.”
She takes a few minutes to pick a song. It’s quiet, other than the chirping crickets, for an almost uncomfortable amount of time before “Colorblind” by Counting Crows starts to play softly in the background.
We both take another drink at the same time, not so subtly peeking at each other before she lets out a little giggle. I inhale a deep breath, trying to get a handle on my out-of-control emotions.
“Can I ask you something?”
She has both hands wrapped around her beer bottle as her thumb absentmindedly picks at the label.
“Sure,” I say, releasing a breath.
“Why do you call me Princess?”
Shit.
The lip of the bottle hovers above my mouth. I don’t know why I wasn’t expecting her to ask that. I thought maybe she’d ask why I never told my brother I’m building a house out here, or why my dad made the no-relationship rule.
