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My hand flies to my chest as I choke at the sight before me.
First, my eyes catch on Soren. He’s dressed in dark gray suit pants, a crisp, white button down, and a classy black belt with matching shoes. The picture could have graced any magazine, but it’s for my eyes only. I’ve never seen this perfectly polished side of him. As kids we were always dirty, running around the woods of our small town.
“You look so handsome,” I tell him honestly as he stares at me.
“You look good enough to eat.”
His words steal my breath and relief fills me…along with desire that raging harder with every step he takes toward me.
But then, I see everything he’s done.
Coming around me, Soren wraps me in his arms as I take it all in.
The setting for our first date is perfect.
On the beach, outside the big house, it appears he’s taken what looks like rugs and made us a floor that steadies the iron coffee table and chairs he’s brought down from the deck. It’s perfectly set with our nice plates and dishes, covered to keep away the bugs. Surrounding the table are tiki torches that will help with that as well as give the perfect amount of light.
Soren bites at my neck, his beard tickles me, and I giggle.
“Okay, I’ll feed you first, but then you’re all mine,” he growls, sweeping me off my feet and into his arms.
I can’t help but kiss him as he walks us to the table. His soft lips are exactly where they belong, and I’m eager for them to take more, but I also want to take our time. I’m already wishing the night would never end.
He sets me in my seat and takes his then reveals the pasta dish.
“Ta-da!” Soren sings. “Chef Boyardee.”
I laugh at the obvious joke. “Very funny. This is five-star pasta, right here,” I say, pointing to my dish and diving in. I moan around my bite with exaggeration, and Soren’s eyes blow wide.
“Damn, baby, if you’re always going to sound like that, consider me the chef of the family. I’ll take dinner duty every night if you’ll be my dessert.”
Fuck me, I think he’s as strung tight as I am. The tension is strong while I take another slow bite, teasing him when I suck in my long noodle.
It splashes against my chin, but before I can wipe it myself with my napkin, he swipes it clean with his thumb.
I’m a panting mess as he sticks that same thumb into his own mouth.
Then he mocks me, slurping up a noodle that splashes his own chin. I reach out with my thumb and wipe it up, our eyes locked as if we’re trying to send each other the officialI really want to fuck nowbat signal.
By no doing of my own, my slutty foot rakes through the sand and crawls up his leg. There’s a long, white tablecloth, giving us just enough privacy on the very off chance someone wanders down to this part of the beach. It’s off of our home, but we have neighbors and no fences.
But there are a lot of trees. My mind starts wandering to all the old hide-and-seek places we could find. By the smirk on his face, his mind is in a similar place. We eat quietly and quickly, eye-fucking the hell out of each other. The long build up is finally coming to a head. I feel it vibrating in the air between us.
“This is the best spaghetti I’ve ever had. Did you know it’s my favorite?” I say in a weak attempt to distract myself.
“Of course, I did. Every summer, when it was your night to pick dinner, you always picked pasta. I couldn’t remember if chicken Alfredo or spaghetti and meatballs was your number one, but I’m glad I guessed right.”
His boyish smile shines with pride, and I wonder if our son will have that smirk, too.
The thought alone brings back all these feels I’ve been trying to slow down, and that damn L-word threats to spill out.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Soren
“Ilove you,” I tell her without a shred of remorse. My heart just too full not to share what’s so obvious to me. It’s fast, the realization has stopped me before, but not this time.
“I love you,” she says and then looks surprised. “I thought I was saying it first.”
