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CHAPTER TWELVE

TANNER

It’s all I can think about. The countdown. The anticipation. Two weeks of seeing her every damn day, sometimes just for an hour between meetings or in the sweaty haze of her yoga studio, but it’s never enough. I always want more. More of her laugh, her sass, her body up against mine. I want her everywhere, all the time, like I’m a fucking junkie.

Late Friday afternoon, my hands are actually shaking as I drive over to her place. Bruno barks the second he hears my boots on the walk. Star answers the door in a sundress that should be illegal and her hair down around her shoulders. She’s so fucking gorgeous, it’s physically painful.

I back her up against the wall and kiss her so hard it knocks the air out of both of us. Her mouth is sweet and hungry, lips parted, tongue sliding against mine like she’s starved for me. My hands move to her hips, hauling her up until she’s standing on her tiptoes, and I don’t stop until she’s breathless and giggling and clinging to my shirt like she might float away.

Bruno barks, like I’m violating some kind of Chihuahua code of conduct, but I don’t give a shit. He’ll just have to get used to me kissing Star every chance I get.

“Missed you,” she murmurs, her voice all soft and wrecked.

I grip her tighter, fighting the urge to carry her straight to the bedroom and spend the next twelve hours reminding her exactly who she belongs to. But I manage to keep my head on straight. Barely. “God, I fucking missed you, too.” I lay my forehead against hers. “Hope you’re ready for a weekend on lockdown,” I growl, breathing her in like I need it to survive. “Just you, me, and one small, suspicious dog.”

She tips her chin up, all sass and trouble. “We’re ready.” She jerks a thumb at the overnight bag already parked by the door, and next to it, a neon green backpack barely big enough for a shoe with “Bruno” embroidered across the front of it.

God, she’s fucking adorable.

I scoop up both bags in one hand easily and give her my cockiest grin. “Well, let’s get going.”

She scoops up Bruno, the little psycho wriggling with suspicion and excitement.

I take Star’s hand in mine and lead her to the truck. She slides into the passenger seat with a smile so wide I feel it right down to my bones. Then I open the back door and set Bruno on his custom embroidered doggie car seat. Silas gave me hell when I installed the fucker in my SUV, but I told my asshole brother that I’m not risking a five-pound missile flying around at a sudden stop. Bruno sniffs it, circles like he’s deliberating a major life decision, and finally settles in as I clip him in.

My brother told me I’ve turned into the world’s biggest pussy-whipped sap, and I don’t even care. Not if it means keeping Star for the rest of my life.

We’re barely out on the main road before Bruno’s huffing in his car seat like he’s plotting my demise. Star rolls her window down to let the wind tangle her hair and smiles at me sideways. It’s the kind of smile that should come with an FDA warning. My heart does something embarrassing in my chest.

I take her soft hand in mine and bring it to my lips for a kiss. “How was your day, baby?”

“It was great.” She sits back against the seat and sighs. “I had lunch with Maggie and Saoirse.”

I already heard about that. My asshole brothers want to know what’s happening, so they keep sending my little sister out on reconnaissance missions. Fuckers.

“How did that go?” I lay our entwined hands on my thigh as we head out of town.

She leans her head back against the headrest and grins at me. “Honestly? It was a blast. We’re going to start having weekly lunches.”

“That’s great,” I manage to mutter as I fight the urge to drag her gorgeous ass across the center console. Honestly, it’s a miracle I keep the wheels on the damn road. I’m that far gone. Her hair is blowing everywhere, and every time she laughs, my heart does a full somersault and lands flat on its back.

We pull up at my place, wheels crunching over the gravel, the porch lights warm and honey-colored against the gathering dark. For a second, Star just stares through the windshield, like she’s not sure if I’m about to lead her into a murder mystery or a Restoration Hardware photo shoot.

She lets out a little breath that’s half-laugh, half-gasp. “Holy wow. Tanner. Your home is gorgeous.”

I kill the engine, grab her hand. “I’m glad you like it, baby.”

I help her out of the SUV and open the back door to free the little gremlin.

Bruno bolts across the lawn, already convinced he owns the place.

“Bruno! Come here, you little psycho!” Star half-laughs, half-yells. The dog ignores her, finding the perfect spot. He sniffs around, then circles it three times before peeing on it.

The little maniac then bolts straight for the front door like he’s about to launch a full-scale home invasion. Star laughs, her eyes bright with mischief, and for half a second, I forget how to breathe.

I’m done. Ruined. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts.

I grab our bags and lead her up the porch steps, fingers tangled in hers. I have to keep touching her or I’ll lose my goddamn mind.