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They were standing in the middle of the living room, close enough to feel each other’s body heat, but they weren’t touching. Her arms had dropped to her sides, and his hands were shoved into his pockets. And still he continued talking.
“I don’t even know what it means to be in love. How do I know if what I’m feeling is what you’re feeling? I’ve never been in love, but if it means that you can’t imagine spending a day without that person, if the prospect of seeing her excites you and you find yourself grinning like an idiot at the thought of her, then I guess I’m in love.
“I stayed awake, you know? The nights that I stayed over, I stayed awake as long as I could. I watched you sleep, and I can’t remember ever being more content, more at peace, or more protective. I’m still working on trying to figure out what that all means, but what I do know is that I want more for us. I want everything for us.”
“Tell me what happened when Laura Prentiss walked into the cabin this morning.”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Lia,” he said, his voice brimming with apology. “I saw her and I panicked. I kept remembering the attack, and I wanted you out of there. It wasn’t logical, it made no sense, but I didn’t want you anywhere near her. I kept imagining you getting caught in the middle of something like that. Of you being hurt. I just wanted you safe.”
“Is that why you sent Tyler with me?”
“Yes.”
“Who was watching your prized client while you were coming here?”
“Spencer. I didn’t want you out of Tyler’s sight until you were safe with me.”
He’d picked her safety over Laura Prentiss’s. That was a huge deal and went a long way to solidifying his unintentional declaration of love.
“So what’s the new plan, Sam?” she asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm lightly with her fingers. His muscles jumped beneath her touch.
“I don’t know. I know you want marriage and kids and the whole shebang. And a house with the picket fence, all of that. But that’s . . . it’s a little overwhelming.”
“No, Sam, I don’t want those things. Not anymore.”
“Then . . . what?”
“Simple. I want you. Just you. And a dog. Definitely a dog.”
His lips widened into a smile, and he opened his arms to her. She stepped into them and was home.
“What are you doing?” Lia asked groggily, many hours later. It was close to three in the morning, and they’d talked till deep into the night. They’d made gentle love once, but Lia’s still-lingering flu had kept things pretty tame compared to their usual standard. Now she woke up to find the bedside light on and Sam sitting up in bed, furiously scribbling on a piece of paper.
“Couldn’t sleep. I watched you for a while—you’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t believe you’re mine,” he said, his voice filled with awe, and she smiled. She sat up against the headboard as well and tucked the sheet under her armpits, not out of any false sense of modesty but because it was chilly.
“What are you writing?” she asked, trying to look over his arm to see.
“Still busy with it, give me a second.” He gave her that cheeky grin she so loved and went back to writing. After a few more minutes of scribbling, he put the pen aside and gave her a gentle smile. He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb tracing over her cheek and then her mouth.
“I know how important guidelines are to you, so I thought I’d whip up a list of rules from which to build the foundation of our relationship.” Lia’s stomach flipped nervously at that revelation, and she frowned at the piece of notepaper in his hands, not sure she wanted to see it.
“Sam, the last list of guidelines didn’t exactly stick.”
“That’s because they were dumb.”
“Hey,” she protested, offended. “They could have worked!”
“For other people maybe, but not for us. These ones are tailor-made for us.”
“Fine,” she said warily. “Hand them over.” He gave her the slip of paper, and the first thing that caught her eye was his name.
“Your second name is Noah? That’s a great name! Maybe we can convince Spencer and Daff to name their first son Noah. That’ll take some doing, because Daff isn’t your biggest fan. But we could tell her it’s someone else’s second name, that could work. But—”
“Lia! Focus,” he urged on an exasperated laugh.
Samuel Noah Brand’s Guidelines to a Long and Lasting Relationship with Dahlia Rose McGregor
Rule 1—Always sleep beside me.
Rule 2—Always tell me you love me.
Rule 3—I adore you.
Rule 4—I love you.
Rule 5—Marry me, please.
Rule 6—And make me the happiest man alive.
Lia read and reread the note. Not sure if she was reading the words right, she blinked and dislodged a tear she hadn’t even known was there. It trailed down her cheek and landed on the paper, just missing the last rule.
