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She met his gaze, her blue eyes clear and resolute. “You caging me in against the counter and kissing me? That didn’t scare me. The scariest sex I’ve had was sweet sex. Evan manipulated me with loving words and gentleness, made everything feel like my idea and like I was coaxing him into it.” She pressed her lips together and paused as if choosing her words carefully. “I would almost rather you be the take-charge type—as long as you stop immediately if I say no to something—because that feels safer, more honest. Then it’s about sex and desire and not manipulation. But if you go the sweet, gentle route, whispering loving things into my ear? It may trigger me.”
Hill absorbed that for a moment, processing her words, and then laced his fingers with hers, stepping into her space. She parted her knees, making room for him to stand between them. He held her gaze, needing her to hear him, to understand. “I can promise you without a shadow of a doubt that I willalwayslisten to no. Or stop or slow down or whatever directions you throw at me. I’ve told you that and I mean it.” When she gave him a little nod, he went on. “Beyond that, whatever you need from me to feel safe or comfortable, just ask. I know I’m not the most talkative guy, but my past is an open book. You can background check me. The fire department does an extensive one.
“I can give you my ex-fiancée’s number, and you can ask her anything you want about me. She doesn’t like me these days, but she will tell you I’m not dangerous. As for my own background, my mom left when I was young. She passed away a few years later, and my dad has been an addict since I was old enough to remember. My aunt and uncle took me in when I was twelve and are good people. They would tell you anything you wanted to know about me.”
She looped her arms around his neck, her expression soft.
“And I’m not in a great place,” he went on, going for the honesty he’d promised himself he’d give her. “I’m dealing with PTSD from the fire, a disability, and depression that makes some days hard, but I’m working on it. I have a pushy neighbor who’s making me.”
She smiled.
“But I know one thing for sure.” He met her gaze. “I would never, ever harm you. Your gut is not wrong about me. Youaresafe with me.”
***
Hill’s words cascaded over Andi, and she closed her eyes, absorbing them. Everything inside her said she could trust him, that he meant it. She wanted to question that internal assuredness. Had taught herself toalwaysquestion it. But in that moment, she couldn’t muster doubt no matter how much she tried.
The realization hit her hard. She believed him. Trulybelievedhim.
She opened her eyes, Hill’s brown-eyed gaze intent on her. She could smell the scent of his shampoo, fresh and minty, and feel the heat of his body wafting against her. She’d looped her arms around his neck and decided now that she didn’t want to let him go. She had never, as an adult, felt this gut-level trust in a man she was attracted to. The possibilities of what she could do with that rolled out in front of her like the most enticing buffet. If she trusted Hill, if she didn’t have to be scared with him, if there was no pressure to make this something romantic, they could…have a whole lot of fun.
“Hill.”
“Yes?” he asked, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“I believe you.”
Relief crossed his face, the lines in his forehead smoothing. “Thank you.”
She slid her hand to the collar of his T-shirt and tugged him down. When he was eye to eye with her, she said, “Now let’s get this cooking lesson over with because if I don’t eat, I’m not going to have the energy to show you just how much I believe you. And I really, really want to show you.”
A slow smile spread over his face. “Yes, ma’am.”
Yes, ma’am.
Good Lord. Just that slow-honey voice of his had her skin going hot. This was going to be the longest cooking lesson ever.
