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I lean down and touch my forehead to hers. “Unless…you’d like me to.”
Her back goes rod straight. “Rowan.”
“I think you understand that I take things seriously.”
“Um.” She wets her perfect lips. “Yeah. I did manage to gather that.”
“So think about it. And know I’m not teasing or flirting when I ask.”
A stilted breath fills her. “Are you sure you’re not delusional? Last night was a first for you, wasn’t it? Maybe you’re a little hyperfixated on the memory? That stuff isn’t unique to me, promise. Any woman—”
I kiss her, and she melts. Her weight drops into me until I’m all that’s holding her up.
When I pull back, she’s flushed, and her eyes are dazed above her parted lips. “I…forgot what I was saying.” She gives her head a slight shake. “I’m certain it was very important.”
Humming, I draw her fingers to my lips. “Promise me you’ll consider making our relationship real, even after we’ve gotten to the bottom of the Maxim Project.”
“I’ll…try to think about it.”
“I expect nothing less than a full analysis. A PowerPoint listing pros and cons. Perhaps a spreadsheet or two. Just to entice me a little.”
She scoffs. “Well, if you’re going to be this demanding—”
“I am. You should know that detail so your calculations and projections come out accurate. I am demanding. And committed. And strict. I like predictable.”
“I’m not predictable.”
“Sometimes, everyone is.” Swiping my thumb across the scar on her pinkie, I murmur, “You are a fearsome element. The earth trembles beneath your steps, and the sky covets the shade of your eyes. Ancient forces concede to you whim. In every fathomable way, I find myself enchanted by you, breathless, under the spell of your mercy. Something about you consumes me, and it will be my greatest accomplishment to tempt you until you succumb.” Bowing my head, I cup her palm to my cheek. “Let shadows lurk, Briar. I’m holding the sun in my palm.”
Chapter 20
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Make the plan. Expect the plan to go off the rails… Blow up the plan.
Briar
Was this in the plans? No. Is everything technically still working in my favor? Absolutely.
I mean, who cares if I’m emotionally attached to the big guy. It’s not the end of the world. Except it is.
No. No. We will not catastrophize this situation. Everything is fine. I am a healthy young adult, and Rowan is a beautiful, kind, reliable, attractive, big, hot man. My little oops last night is totally a reasonable oops.
Matter of fact, we’re both probably suffering from aftershock hormones. If I can keep myself away for a little while, this whole situation will blow over. Being intimate with someone—even at the kissing level—messes up the brain chemicals something fierce, and it stands to reason I’ve never gone taste their tongue far with anyone else. So it’s absolutely understandable that I’m dwelling on things.
Who am I kidding?
What was I thinking?
“Bossette?” Lace says, for what might be the tenth time.
“Hm? Yeah?” I glance dully her way.
“We gonna talk about…” She touches several places on her neck, referencing my fresh bruises.
Mercy. Are there really that many?
I lift the lemonade I made earlier to my lips and sip from the straw before pinning my attention on the wide, sunny yard. The pavilion where we’re sitting is the kind of extravagant marble structure that would house elite clients during business deals that transpire over tall flute glasses of wine.
