AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I know, ‘cause I’ll do whatever I need to make sure tonight is good for you.”
“You and my dad are a lot alike,” I tell him as he shuts off the engine and looks at me doubtfully. “It’s true.” I slip off my seat belt then lean over the middle console between us, resting the hand that’s not holding his, against his chest. “You’re both protective of the people you care about. Gentle, even though looking at you, you’d never know you could be gentle. You’re both sweet, and kind.” I hold his eyes then whisper, “You’re the best men I know.”
“You love me.” It’s not a question; it’s a statement. And looking into his eyes, I realize I do. Holy shit, when did that happen? Holy shit, how did that happen?
“I…” I try to sit back, but before I can get away, he drags me out of my seat and settles me on his lap between him and the steering wheel.
Framing my face with his big hands, he pulls me close—so close, all I see is him. “I love you.”
“What?” I breathe, staring into his beautiful eyes, his breath mingling with mine between us.
“I love you,” he repeats, and I shake my head, trying to wrap my head around the fact that he’s telling me he loves me, when I just realized I’m in love with him.
“How?” I close my eyes, dropping my forehead to his chin, feeling like an idiot for asking that question.
“Do you want a list of reasons?” he asks, sifting his fingers through the hair at the side of my head, and I know from his tone he’s smiling.
“No.”
“That’s good, since it’s a long fucking list.” I open my eyes and tip my head back to look at him, finding he’s still smiling, and also finding his eyes soft and a look, that can only be described as love, shining brightly back at me. Sliding his hand down my cheek then neck, his fingers circle my throat then slide back into my hair, and he pulls me in, pressing his forehead to mine, where he whispers, “You love me.”
“Yes.” That one word comes out in a rush, and I feel my nose and eyes start to sting. I grip his shirt at his sides as my chin wobbles. “I’m going to cry.”
“No, you’re gonna kiss me.”
“No,” I deny, shaking my head. “I think I’m seriously going to cry.”
Using his hand in my hair, he tips my head to the side and brings my mouth closer to his, and then his tongue slides across my bottom lip. Feeling that, my lips part automatically and I taste him and kiss him back, completely forgetting about crying.
Ripping his mouth from mine, he mutters, “Fuck,” and I realize there is a light blinking on and off through my closed lids.
“What th—” I open my eyes and turn my head, feeling my eyes widen when I see my dad standing on the front porch with a flashlight directed our way—something he used to do when I was in high school and had a date drop me off and we were making out. “Seriously?”
“Fuck me,” Harlen grumbles, and I fight back the laughter I feel bubbling up inside my chest and look at him.
“We should go in,” I whisper, knowing just by looking at him that he does not want to go in to have dinner, but is doing this for me.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “Come on.” He opens his door then helps me get out, which is a little awkward, seeing how my back is to the door. Once my feet are on the ground, he gets out, slams the door, and then grabs the crab dip I made from the back seat.
I smile up at him, and he grins before his eyes go to the front porch and his smile disappears.
Seeing his smile fade away, I look at my dad, who’s watching us, looking—you guessed it—still pissed, and I do something I never ever in a million years would have done before. I grab Harlen’s hand firmly in mine and walk toward my dad, saying loudly, “I just realized I’m in love, so if you’re going to be a jerk, don’t be. I like my bubble right now, and I don’t want you to pop it.”
“Christ.” Harlen chuckles, and I look up at him, finding his eyes on his boots and a grin on his lips. Better.
“Boom,” I hear a familiar voice rumble, and my eyes widen and shoot back to the porch.
“Shut it, Dad,” my dad growls, and I keep scanning the dark until I find him, my grandpa sitting in one of the rocking chairs with a beer in his hand. The second our eyes lock, he smiles at me.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Grandpa,” I whisper, and he stands, taking three steps across the porch and stopping at the top of the stairs. “What?” I look at my dad and back again. “What are you doing here?”
