Page 87 of That Rush

“I can want more without assuming you’ve chosen it, too.”

“That sentence might be sexier than the work boots.”

“Careful. I’m trying to keep breakfast on the stove.”

“And exclusivity does not mean you own my time.”

I want more of her time than I have any right to claim. Hearing her draw the line doesn’t change the want, it just gives it a direction. A way to move toward her without walking over her.

I meet her gaze. “No ownership beyond what we both choose.”

“You can ask.”

“And you can say no.”

“Look at you learning.”

I reach across the island, curl my hand around the back of her neck, and kiss her once. “I learn quickly.”

Her lips stay close to mine. “You had an exceptional teacher this morning.”

“That confidence is getting dangerous.”

“You seemed to enjoy it.”

“I fucking loved it.”

She smiles and takes her plate to the small table by the porch doors. Our legs brush under the table. After a moment of comfortable silence, she speaks. “Cold-water swimming is terrible judgment. So is wearing that shirt in public.”

My phone vibrates on the counter before we finish eating. It’s my Mom.

Across the table, Paige lifts her eyes from her coffee.

I swipe to answer. “Morning.”

“Your daughter has been awake since six and has asked me four times when she can call you. I told her breakfast first. She ate three bites, so she figures that counts.”

I glance at the clock. “Put her on.”

A rustle comes through the phone, then Josie’s bright voice fills my ear. “Daddy?”

“Hey, bug.” A smile pulls at my mouth. “Are you having fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”

“When are you coming home?”

“Before nine, like I promised.”

“But I’m done with breakfast.”

“Three bites don’t count as breakfast.”

“I ate strawberries too.”

“That improves your argument.”

Paige presses her lips together. The laugh still shows in her eyes.

“Can we ride when you get here?”