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Unable to stay idle, I slink down into his lap, interrupting his fingers. He temporarily allows it before resuming with me wrapped around him. With my face buried in his neck, I realize it must have taken him every spare minute away from me before the wedding to get this done. “It’s beautiful,” I murmur into his throat, straddling him on the bench hugging him tightly to me.
You’re beautiful, I want to whisper so badly, but I’m suddenly afraid of what I feel. How did I not see this? How could I have not seen this incredible man for what he is? In a matter of life-altering hours, Theo has just become the most irresistible man I’ve ever known. If I’m completely honest, I’ve been falling for him, in pieces, since the night we met. And for the first time since we started the relationship, I’m unsure if I’m worthy of such a gift. The gift of knowing him, of seeing him this way, of being on this side of his affection.
I might’ve fallen slowly, but I just landed impossibly deep.
My eyes burn, a little because of the fear, but more because of this gesture, because of who he is and what he now means to me.
I no longer, nor do I ever want to be just Theo Houseman’s friend.
I kiss his throat over and over and pull away to mouth the words of the song to him. He watches me, rapt, his fingers never straying from the piano.
We’re polar opposites in some ways. I’m too country, and he’s a whole lot of everything else. We shouldn’t fit, but we do, and our fit is nothing short of spectacular.
There’s no wool in the world thick enough to make me blind to that.
He continues his serenade, drawing out my desire as I clutch him to me. When he plays the last of the notes, I let him see just how much he’s affected me. He pushes the hair away from my face as a grateful tear trails down my cheek.
“Jesus, Houseman,” I whisper, slowly dipping in to kiss his nose, his brow, his temple, his cheek, before he turns his head and claims my mouth and we both are swept away. His eyes light up when he closes our kiss with a satisfied smile.
“Again,” I moan against his lips.
He obliges, angling my face and drawing me back in to deepen our kiss.
Frenzied, I kiss him back.
Addicted.
Needy.
Starving for more.
He stands with me attached to him to hoist me up the stairs, but we only make it halfway.
Grannism—Don’t trust cat people. They want low maintenance relationships.
Theo: Damn you woman, you changed every fucking radio and XM station in my car to country! I spent half my drive fixing it.
Laney: Prove it.
Theo: I am so going to redden your beautiful ass when I see you.
Laney: Have to prove I did it to dole out the punishment.
Theo: Says you.
Laney: See ^^ I’ve already got you talking like me. It’s only a matter of time.
Theo: I think someone is acting naughty to get a little attention.
Laney: Prove it.
Theo: I hate Thanksgiving.
Laney: I miss you, too. It’s a good thing we got together when we did. The public is starting to SHIP us.
Theo: Yeah?
Laney: They’re pretty much demanding it. Do you ever check the page?
