Page 42 of Last Slice of Pie

Pushing open the sliding glass door, I lead Lexi outside so I can fire up the grill. Taking a glass of wine I poured for her, she walks down to the water’s edge and stops at the small dock. Most of my neighbors have boats, but all I keep tied up down there is a kayak and a paddleboard.

This yard was the main reason I bought this home, and there are two trees close to the water that I hung a hammock between so I can watch the sunlight as it peeks through the branches. I spent most of my life growing up under and in a tree, so it only seemed fitting, and all around the outskirts of the property there is tall grass, the perfect type for fireflies. I’ve never seen any here, this close to the city, but I like to imagine they’re there.

Grilled Grouper Marinade

DINNER WAS AMAZING.

I’ve always liked fish, but what he made for us was out of this world, and the dessert, a grilled summer fruit cobbler—I was in awe when he put that on the grill to cook while we ate dinner. He thought of everything, and whether he realizes it or not, he’s made me feel special.

What’s also made me feel special is that Bryan hasn’t stopped staring at me, not since the moment we walked in the door.

Trust me, I don’t mind, not one bit, but all it’s doing is making me burn. I’m burning for him. I know what’s coming later, and so does he. If anything, this time now is like the longest unspoken foreplay ever. In fact, it’s quite possible that the moment he touches me, I will explode and disintegrate into a pile of sparkly glitter.

After rinsing the last dish, he hands it to me, and I load it into the dishwasher. Other than the faint music in the background, it’s so silent between us, and I’m certain he can hear my heart pounding in my chest as I turn to face him.

Blue eyes stare down at me, asking for permission but not at the same time. There’s a promise in them, one I’m very welcome to receiving.

I’m done waiting. I’ve waited long enough.

Stepping closer, I move into his personal space. He turns us so my back is pressed against the edge of the counter, and my eyes fall to his lips as he wets his full bottom one with his tongue.

“I’m happy you’re here tonight,” he says, his lips barely moving. I’m mesmerized by their shape and the color.

“So am I.”

Reaching up with one hand, he cups the side of my face, and his fingers bury themselves under the fall of my hair. As I tilt my head back, his gaze roams my face, but he doesn’t come any closer. It’s intimate, sweet, and I can’t help but place my hand on his chest and watch as it slides down and grips the bottom of his shirt. I tug, and he bends with the movement, his lips tipping up on one side then dropping to the corner of mine.

The sound of him breathing in air through his nose as his mouth gently, lightly presses against me causes my toes to curl, and my eyes drift shut with a long blink. Oh my stars. What this man does to me, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. Pulling back, I see blue eyes looking at me tenderly before he dips his head and kisses the other side.

How many times have I imagined what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his affections? For years, he starred in my dreams nightly, and now here I am, finally living out my wildest dream come true—him.

Raising my arms, I wrap them around his neck and arch my back so he and I are flush against one another. His free hand slides along my lower back, he pulls me tightly up against him, and he holds me there as the need to feel him, taste him, and inhale him overwhelms me.

I want it all.

Him.

This handsome man, this man who played in front of millions today and yet is here with me now, just me.

I don’t just feel lucky because of who he is, but I feel so lucky because I know who he is. The core of him has never changed.

I know he is smart, kind, dedicated, and determined. I know he’s humble, never arrogant, and without him saying so, I know he worries about not being good enough, though he already is and then some. He was never about being a famous athlete; he just wanted to be the best at something he loves, and he loves football. It’s always been his constant, and it gave him something to work harder for. I can only hope now he’ll choose to work hard for me, for us.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks as he sets my mouth free and my eyes fall to his lips. His warm breath hits my face as we share the air between us, and I have to tear my eyes away to seek out his own only to find they have darkened to the color of navy. The deep shade is because of me, and the longing I feel for him swirling deep in my stomach only intensifies.

Breathless, I nod and slide my fingers back into his hair. Both of his hands contract, pressing harder, letting me know he wants me as close as possible. Through our clothes, I feel the long lines of his body, his muscles as they tense and shift, and how much he wants me.

Me.

“Yes,” I whisper, almost shaking. I pull his delicious mouth back to mine, and his lips fit perfectly as they begin moving in a way only he knows how to. Pulling his hand from my hair, he slides it down my back until both hands palm my butt and he rubs me against him.

I’ve never wanted anyone the way I’ve always wanted him, and with a courage I didn’t know I had, I reach between us, run my hand up and down his length, and palm him.

Letting out a groan, he pulls away from me and just stares.

Dark blond hair falls over his forehead, his cheeks tinted red in a way that isn’t from a blush but from being so lost in the moment, and his gaze, which is one hundred percent focused on me, is so intense I feel spellbound.

Taking me by the hand, without a word, he turns and begins walking us toward and up the stairs. I follow; after all, I’d follow him anywhere, especially knowing where we’re going and what we’re about to do. Excitement from the anticipation of what’s to come overrides any and all nervousness I previously felt. This moment has been coming for us for such a long time now, and I can only pray I don’t forget one single second of it.