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She stared at him and lowered her chin. “You think about the curve of my eyebrows?”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “God, I’m shit at this. I think of your lips, a shade that’s not exactly pink, but a shade short of magenta.” He hesitated. “That’s a red color, right? A darker one.”
She barely nodded. “It’s a darker color of red.”
“Even when I’m not thinking of you, it’s like you’re still there in every unconscious moment, just lingering outside of my mind, ready to take up space and bring me back to the one person I honestly don’t believe I can live without.”
Chewing her lip, she squinted at the road. “That’s a nice thing to say.”
Hands on his hips, he decided to ask the most important question. The one he was afraid to ask. “How badly have I fucked this up?”
“On a scale from one to ten? Two hundred.” She still wouldn’t look at him.
“What might I do to lower my ranking on the scale?”
She shrugged one slim shoulder and stared at her feet. “What’s for dinner?”
“There’s an entire diner behind me just waiting to make you anything you want.”
“I kinda want you to fix me dinner.”
He considered the sparse contents of his pantry. “PB and J?” he asked, holding his breath.
“It’s a start,” she said, shutting the car door, Grant’s cue to pull her duffel from the backseat, sidestepping broken glass.
She added, “We’ll have to go to the grocery store tomorrow.”
“Absolutely.”
“Maybe decide how long I’ll be staying.”
“Call me crazy, but if I were a betting man, I’d say you’re never going to leave.”
“Well, that’s rather arrogant of you.”
“Remember the part where I said I couldn’t live without you? That wasn’t me waxing poetic and shit. That was the plain God’s honest truth.”
“Okay. Well then, maybe I could find a job.”
“That’s a good idea. I can help with that.”
She stood in front of him, and he pushed her hair behind her ear.
“Well, Officer. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a plan.”
She finally gifted him with a smile.
He pushed her hair back and kissed her. “I do love a plan.”
