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Blake’s smile faded. “Where did it come from?”
“I put it there,” she said. “Because that’s what I do, Blake.”
He stepped out of the house and took her wringing hands in his. “Come inside, Lauren.”
She let him tug her into the house, and she instantly felt at-home here. The floors bore a light gray wood, and the house opened right into the living room. The TV flickered with something on it, and Blake owned comfortable looking couches in dark brown leather.
He let go of her hands and grabbed a shirt that had been draped over the back of the loveseat. He pulled it over his head and faced her again. “Why do you put distance between yourself and others?”
“Self-preservation,” she said. She’d been to therapy before. She knew why she did things, but sometimes she couldn’t stop herself. “If I keep other people out, then when they leave, it’s not that hurtful.”
Blake tilted her head and studied her.
Now that she’d come inside, she wasn’t too nervous. “You teased me about my strategizing, and I don’t know. I started building a wall. It’s pretty low right now, and I decided I didn’t want it there at all.”
“I apologize for teasing you about strategizing,” he said. He was completely serious, not an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “I know I do it. It was literally my job for decades, and I’m very good at it.”
“It works for you,” he said. “Don’t stop doing it.”
She moved closer to him. “Why’d you put on the shirt?” She slid her hands up his chest, feeling those glorious muscles she’d seen only a few minutes ago.
“I felt a little too exposed,” he whispered. He held his ground with her, and Lauren sure did like that. He put one hand on her hip and brought her flush against him. “I missed you this week.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Tell me,” he said, dipping his head closer. He touched his lips to her neck, and fire shot straight to her core. “If you go quiet on me again, if you start turning me down for dates, should I assume you’re building another wall?”
“Most likely,” she said, her words more of a gasp.
“And do you want me to break it down?”
Lauren had never had a man ask her these kinds of questions before. She didn’t know how to answer them, but she knew the electricity flowing through her, and she knew the scent of his cologne that made her lightheaded, and she knew she didn’t want anything between them.
“Yes.”
He slid his lips up the column of her neck to her mouth, and Lauren kissed him slowly, truly savoring every touch, every spark, every sound of his breath in her ears. He pulled away first, leaving her wanting and far too warm.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Do you want to stay for a bit? I was just watching TV.”
“What if your son comes home?”
Blake reached out and tucked her hair out of her face. “Hon, I just kissed you like I’m falling in love. I think I can introduce you to him anytime now.”
Lauren made a squeak, and Blake gave her a smile. “Too soon. Got it. I won’t say it again.”
“It’s…”
Blake turned and led her over to the couch. “I’ve been painting my office, and I can’t stand,” he said. “We have to sit.” He practically collapsed onto the couch, and Lauren curled into his side.
“It’s not too soon,” she said. “I’ve just…” She let her words trail off.
Blake wasn’t one to let her disappear and give him incomplete sentences. “You’ve just what?”
“I’ve never had anyone fall in love with me before,” she said, glad she could watch the moving images on the TV instead of having to look him in the eye. “My mom left me behind. My brother forged his own path and never looked back. I’ve had a string of boyfriends over the years, but I’ve only had one tell me he loved me, and it turned out he didn’t actually…so.”
“Mm.” Blake stroked his hand through her hair, almost mindlessly, and it made Lauren feel cherished. “His loss, Lauren. Seriously.”
