Things have been weird enough with Jamison. And I don’t want to make them any weirder. Especially since anything like that between Jamison and me would be doomed from the start.
I make a promise to myself as I step into the kitchen—what almost happened this morning between us is never going to almost happen again. Our lips will never meet, and our relationship will never change. We’ll stay just good old friends, the way we’ve always been.
It’s the best choice, the only choice.
But later, when the young woman we hired to work the counter, Lucy, arrives, and Naomi joins me in the kitchen, I can’t deny that the memory of Jamison’s lips moving closer to mine lingers, far more tempting than any Tall, Dark, and Delicious Chocolate Cake.
Chapter Seventeen
Faith
Valentine’s Day is a ridiculous day to lose your virginity.
Just ridiculous.
I know this—and despite the fact that I’m crazy in love and have romantic plans, I still loathe V-Day more than push-up bras and hose testing combined.
It’s just so commercial and cheesy and pink.
So grossly pink.
But I can’t stand the thought of waiting another day to be with Mick. Abstaining for the full month it took for my birth control prescription to become effective is seriously one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life.
Ever.
If someone had told me a few months ago I’d be so desperate to pounce a man’s bones I’d be marking off the days until we can sleep together on my fridge calendar with obnoxious little heart doodles, I would have laughed my face off.
But that was BMW—Before Mick Whitehouse.
Mick, with his kisses that drive me wild, his hands that know my body better than I do, and his heart that makes me feel like the most beautiful, interesting, fabulous woman in the world. Despite my rough childhood—or maybe because of it—I’ve always had a solid sense of self-worth, but lately I’ve felt invincible.
With Mick beside me, I can conquer any obstacle, overcome any hardship, scale high mountains in foreign countries with names I can barely pronounce armed only with a backpack, walking stick, and several thermoses of water.
Yeah, we’re planning a trip to Tanzania to climb Mount Kilimanjaro—something we’ve both secretly wanted to do since we were teens—early next year. If all goes as planned, next January 1st we’ll be on our way to Africa to celebrate our one-year anniversary atop the continent’s highest mountain.
It’s going to be an amazing adventure, but nothing compared to the adventure I’ve had already.
In six weeks I’ve gone from lonely and pretty sure Captain Snugglepants was destined to be my only long-term steady date to being in a relationship that makes the world seem wonderful in ways it never has before.
I’m just so happy.
So happy not even spending Friday afternoon listening to Mama insist I need to “sweet talk Mick into proposing before the bloom is off my rose” can sour my spirits.
I simply take a deep breath and shrug off my mama’s crazy at the bakery’s front door. Then I weave my way through the crowd waiting to pick up Valentine’s Day treats with a grin on my face.
I hurry up the stairs, slip the key Mick gave me into the lock and ease inside, immediately feeling at home because this is where the man I love lives and breathes.
I spy him across the room, bent over his desk studying for his first big EMT exam, his curls standing up in a dozen directions because he runs his hands through his hair when he’s thinking, and my chest fills with a delicious, full sensation. And then he turns and smiles my way—clearly thrilled I’m back even though we’ve only been apart a few hours—and the feeling of fullness gets so intense I’m worried it might do internal damage.
God, I love this man.
I love him like nothing else, and I can’t wait to be with him tonight. My fears and nerves are long gone, leaving only a warm assurance that making love to Mick is something I’m never going to regret.
“Hey, sexy.” He rises from his chair, crossing the room to pull me into his arms. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too.”
He arches a brow. “Did your mom drive you crazy?”
“No more than usual.” I tip my head back to welcome his kiss, a long, slow kiss that has us both breathing faster by the time he pulls away.
“Damn,” he mutters, his voice thick. “If I wasn’t worried that half the town and my sisters would overhear, there’s no way I could wait until tonight.”
“We could go back to my place.” I lean into him, body humming with awareness. “No customers or sisters there.”
“That’s a fucking brilliant idea.”
I wink. “Literally.”
Laughing, his hands slip down to cup my bottom, urging me closer, summoning a hungry sigh from my throat. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Dude, I am so ready. Past ready,” I promise. “I’m so ready I’ve been thinking filthy things about you all day long.”
His eyes darken and his fingers dig a little deeper into my ass, making things low in my body clench. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Like…” I push up on tiptoe to whisper one of my naughtier fantasies into his ear. I’ve gotten to the part where we’re naked on a bearskin rug in front of a roaring fire and he’s pulling my panties off with his teeth when he groans.
“Stop.” He swallows hard. “I can’t take any more or I won’t be able to wait until we get to your place.”
I bite my lip, secretly loving that a few whispered words can affect him like this. I love this man’s good heart, but I also really enjoy making him horny. “Then grab your things, and let’s get going,” I say before adding in a softer voice, “The anticipation is killing me.”
He cups my face in his hands. “Me too. You have no idea.” He takes a deep breath, his eyes scanning my face in a way that leaves no doubt that he thinks I’m beautiful. Inside and out. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
“A disturbing amount,” I say, my heart soaring even as the ache inside twists tighter. “But not as disturbing as how much I want you.”
“How much do you want me?”
“Well, my panties are already wet,” I whisper, my heart skipping a beat as his jaw clenches in response. “If that gives you a clue.”
He makes that growling sound low in his throat again. “I’m beginning to think you want the whole town listening in.”
“And I’m beginning to think you’re all talk and no action,” I challenge, grinning as I back out of his arms, crooking my finger as I go. “Come on, Whitehouse. This virginity isn’t going to take care of itself.”
He blows out a long breath and rolls his eyes upward, as if praying for strength. “I’ll be down in two minutes,” he says, pinning me with a heated look that makes my entire body hum. “Get the truck ready to roll.”
“Yes, sir.” I give him a naughty salute before turning and practically skipping across the room to the door, my heart light and easy.
This is so different than I thought it would be. Before.