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The rest of the evening goes off without a hitch. We eat, laugh, and end up in an intense euchre tournament of sorts. There is no more teasing, but I think that has more to do with the fact that Orrin hasn’t let me out of his sight, and he’s always touching me. So much so that when it’s his turn to play, and I’m sitting out from a loss with my partner, which was Ramsey, he pulls a chair up beside him and has me sit next to him. Not that I mind. I want to be next to him too. I hope that I never lose that want or need to be with him.
By the time we say our goodbyes and head back to my place, it’s almost ten, and I have to be up early for work tomorrow. Orrin holds my hand all the way and walks me to my door. “You should pack a bag and come stay with me,” he says, standing on my front porch.
“I’m already home, and it’s late.”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “Family dinner, take my time with you. I’m not a fan,” he grumbles.
“Come on now. Tonight was fun.”
“Anytime I spend with you is fun.”
“Silver tongue,” I say, kissing under his chin.
“Next weekend, we’re staying at my place. All weekend. Friday at five, you’re mine. Pack a bag and come straight from work. We’re blocking out the world.”
“Deal.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Drive safe.”
He kisses me one more time and steps back. “Lock up before I leave.”
“So protective,” I tease.
“When it comes to my heart, you’re damn right I am.”
“You make mine beat faster.”
“Good. I hope that I always do.”
“Me too, handsome. Love you.” I push open the door and close it. I’ve been here before. We both hate leaving the other at the end of the night, and we’re notorious for stalling. I turn the lock and then rush to the window to watch him step off the porch and climb back into his truck. I don’t step away until I can no longer see his headlights. Today was unexpected and incredible and one I will never forget.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Orrin
This week has been long and lonely. I worked late every damn night, including tonight. One of my guys came down with the flu and put us short-handed. I like to meet the deadlines that I give my customers, so I had to do what any business owner does. I had to put in the extra hours to meet deadlines. I’m dead on my feet, and I miss my girl. She brought me dinner to the shop every single night even when I told her she didn’t have to but insisted that she wanted to, and it only made me love her more. She wanted to spend that time with me, even though it was only long enough for me to scarf down my food and steal a few kisses.
My last customer just picked up their truck, and they’re barely out of the parking lot before I’m hitting the lights, locking the doors, and racing to my truck. Last weekend when I told Jade that her weekend was mine, I didn’t know what kind of hell my week was going to be. Now, I can’t get home fast enough. She’s spending the entire weekend at my place. I want a shower, food, my girl in my arms, and a good night’s sleep in that order.
When I pull into my driveway, I could weep when I see Jade’s car parked outside of the garage. She’s sitting on the front porch. She’s in the swing, reading her e-reader. The truck is barely in Park before I’m tearing open the door and rushing up the steps. She’s standing when I reach her, so I can easily lift her into my arms and hug the shit out of her. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.
“I missed you too.” She chuckles.
“You’re staying, right? I need time with you. I missed you more than I thought possible.”
“Yeah, I’m staying. I made dinner.” She points to the Crock-Pot sitting by the front door. “I put a roast on with potatoes and carrots before I left for work this morning. I assumed it would be another late night for you.”
“That sounds perfect. Come on, let’s get inside, close the blinds, and lock the doors.”
She laughs. “That’s a little excessive, don’t you think?”
“Nope.” I unlock the door and pick up the Crock-Pot, stepping back and giving her room to enter with her bag. “That’s the best fucking thing I’ve seen all week,” I say, nodding toward her overnight bag.
“Way to make a girl feel special,” she teases.
“That bag belongs to you, baby. Not much more special than that. We’re not leaving this house until Sunday night when I know you’ll insist you need to go home.”
