Page 83 of Holiday Heir

She crosses her legs and has her hand on her thigh, completely unselfconscious about it. Her profile catches the passing streetlights in flashes, gold, then dark, then gold again. But the biggest thing that makes me feel giddy is the way she hasn't let go of my hand once since we pulled out of the driveway, like she's just as unwilling to break the contact as I am.

"You're quiet," Lainey says, glancing over at me from the passenger seat, mailbox reflectors sliding past her in the window.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"You. Mostly." I glance over long enough to catch her small, pleased smile before I bring my eyes back to the road, admitting, "I do that a lot lately."

"Careful. I might start thinking you're serious about me."

"I am serious about you, Lainey." The words come out steadier than I expect, no joke tucked behind them this time, and her fingers tighten slightly around mine in response. "Dead serious."

She opens her mouth, then shuts it. Her lips slightly curve.

I tease, "It's okay. You can admit you're dead serious about me, too."

She softly laughs, making my cock twitch.

I refocus on the road, mainly to try and get my dick to calm down. Relief hits when Bluefin Ranch appears. It's tucked into the newer end of Main Street. The glass front's lit up from the warm antique-gold lettering against the deep blue-black background.

The sushi restaurant opened up two years ago and immediately became the spot every rancher's wife drags her husband to for anniversaries. And every cowboy in town knows if you want an intimate dinner date, Bluefin Ranch is a great place to go. I called ahead this afternoon and asked specifically for the corner booth. It's tucked back from the main floor with just enough privacy to feel like our own little pocket of the world.

I slide into a spot a few doors down and park. I kiss the back of Lainey's hand, order, "Don't move," and get out. I come around to open her door, offering my hand to help her down out of the truck.

"You keep doing that," she says, fingers settling into mine.

"Doing what?"

"Opening doors. Walking around the truck. It's very old-fashioned of you."

"My mama raised me right. Also, I like any excuse to touch you." I tug her a half step closer and watch the flush climb up her neck. Then I murmur, "Don't get used to it. I'm still capable of being a disaster."

Her cheeks turn darker pink. "Noted."

I open the door and motion for her to go first.

She steps inside, and I follow.