Page 148 of Worth the Trip

“That word too small.”

My lips curved. “Oh, is it?”

“Yeah. Girlfriend sound like I’m asking to sit with you at lunch. I said I want you to be my woman.”

“Major distinction?”

“Very.”

“And what does that make you?”

“Your man.” He looked entirely too pleased with himself again. “I thought a woman with your education would follow the analysis.”

I laughed. “You’ve been waiting to say that.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to be ready to hear it.”

That took the humor right out of me.

“Yes.”

Landon went still. “Yes?”

“Yes, Landon.” I slid my fingers behind his neck. “I’m your woman.”

His expression changed slowly. Warmth first. Then satisfaction. Then that swagger I had come to recognize as fundamentally incurable.

“Good.”

“That’s all I get?”

“Nah, baby.” His hand slid higher along my back. “That’s what you get before I kiss my woman.”

His mouth touched mine softly, then deeper. I kissed him back with both hands in his locs and every uncertainty I had brought into the cabin finally somewhere else. When he drew back, his nose brushed mine.

“Say it again.”

“I’m your woman.”

His thumb moved across my cheek. “Yeah, baby. You are.”

I smiled, then kissed my man.

The second time felt different. Not because a label had magically transformed anything, but because neither of us was pretending this was headed somewhere unnamed anymore. Landon’s mouth traveled beneath my jaw, and my head tipped back.

“That smart mouth getting quiet?”

“It’s considering its options.”

“Tell it I’m patient.”

“You’ve complained about this shirt for an hour.”

“Complaining ain’t removing it.” His fingertips slipped beneath the hem and rested against my waist. Then stopped. His eyes lifted. “You still want this?”

I touched his face. “Yes.”

“Hershey.”