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“It’s just so scary,” I told him. “So different.”

“So, let’s get all the bad shit out of the way right now, then,” he said, clapping his hands together. “What are the worst things about you? The things I would totally hate?”

I snorted. “Rock, you’re being funny.”

“Nope, I mean it,” he said. “I’ll start first. You already know I love pineapple pizza and I will sometimes order it. You don’t have to share. I also tend to sleep in way too late on weekends, so if you’re going to make fun of me for snoozing until eleven-thirty, we’ll have a problem. I’ve lived in condos most of my life, so I have no idea how to help you take care of one of these big-ass yards you have here. You know I don’t snore, so that isn’t an issue. Oh! I randomly get horny after I shower, so you have to tell me if you get sick of me jumping your bones after them.”

I watched him for a moment, feeling like I was somehow floating higher and higher up into a cloud.

“Why do I love every last thing you say?” I told him quietly.

He cocked his head to one side. “I just told you all of the bad things about me, so I don’t know why you’re saying that—”

I stepped toward him, closing the gap between us and crushing my lips against his. More than anything else, this was overwhelming—the sense that even when I was freaking out, even when I felt stressed and directionless, I still wanted him. Like nothing would ever be too much, as long as he was there with me.

I’d never had that with another person. I’d never thought it was possible.

He responded to my kiss, opening to me and pulling me closer to his body. I kissed him lower, all around his jaw, under his ear, and on the side of his neck. I couldn’t physically get enough of him.

“You realize,” I said, punctuating my words with kisses, “that I don’t think it matters what we do?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, his body pushing up against mine as I kissed him.

“Everything we’ve talked about. You moving, you not moving, you being in the city or here. It doesn’t matter. I’d drive any distance for you, any time I could.”

“Fuck,” he murmured. “That’s more romantic than any roses or chocolate could ever be.”

“Oh, there’s going to be a lot of chocolate, too, and you know it,” I said. “There was going to be some tonight, but I’m starting to think this cake is just doomed to never get made.”

He laughed. “Hell, no,” he said. “I want it. I’m just going to watch you like a hawk while you use that damn torch.”

“My at-home torch is a lot smaller than the one back at the tavern, I promise.”

“Still got to be safe with fire.”

I ran my fingers through his hair. “Come get in the shower with me. I have things I want to do with you.”

“Hey, not so fast, Chef,” he said, leaning back and grinning at me. “You still haven’t told me your bad things.”

“Oh, there are plenty of bad things I want to do with you.”

“Nice try,” he said, running his hand down my chest.

“Fine,” I said. “My bad things. If I get too obsessed with a recipe, it’s all I’ll be able to think about for that week. Sometimes I stay up ‘til five in the morning perfecting one. I sometimes speed when I drive. I hate making phone calls, but I’ll do it when I have to. I always leave my Christmas tree up way too long.”

“Okay, I’m out of here,” Rock said. “No way I can deal with someone who speeds in the car.”

“I don’t go that fast,” I protested.

“Nope. Zero tolerance,” he told me. “You’re quitting that shit today.”

A laugh bubbled up in me. “Okay. It’s a bad habit anyway, and I will stop for you. But I’m telling you right now, I do not sleep in until eleven-thirty on weekends.”

“Well, yeah, you don’t really have weekends.”

“Anytime I get the day off, I’m up by nine at the latest. Doesn’t matter when I went to bed.”

“So you’re going to wake me up clanging around in the kitchen at nine every weekend morning?”

“Oh yeah,” I teased him. “Maybe I’ll even get out my electric guitar and play it in the room to wake you up.”

“You really are related to Cursehound, aren’t you?”

I grabbed his hand. “I think the weirdest thing is that I want all of it. The good stuff and the bad stuff and the strange stuff.”

He pulled my hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of my palm. “I’m glad you want the strange, too. I want it all.”

“You still think that even after meeting my big, crazy family?”

“Your family is a huge part of it. I’ve never felt like I belonged with anyone’s family until I spent time with yours.”

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