Until we’re sitting in the dark, the fire providing the only light, her kind yet brutally honest and welcoming heart on full display. It’s as if a light bulb has been switched on in my head, and I now see her in a completely different light.
I see her as someone I could easily get lost in.
“Have anything to say about the blanket on your mom’s unshaven legs?” she asks with a giggle.
I swallow, wet my lips. “Well, I knew about the warming of my father’s crotch, and that frankly puts a smile on my face, because a father’s warm crotch is a . . . uh . . . happy son?”
Larkin lets out a wail of a laugh. “Oh my God, I’m never going to be able to look at you the same.”
I laugh as well, hating that I’m not as quick on my feet as Cooper. If he were in my place, he’d have no doubt made up a long-ass story about the warm blanket for crotches and unshaven legs, and he would make it believable.
“Don’t worry, when I look at myself in the mirror tomorrow, I’ll be ashamed.”
“As you should be.” She wipes under her eyes and then nudges me with her foot. “Now you have to tell me the truth—no lying. What were you thinking about when I asked you what puts a smile on your face?”
“I don’t remember—”
“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me, Ford. I can read you like a book.”
“Can you?” I ask. “So then why don’t you tell me what makes me smile?”
“I want you to say it.”
“But if you know me so well . . . ,” I tease.
“Then I know this is hard for you, and I want you to be able to speak your mind, so speak up.”
“But if you know me, then you already know,” I challenge, trying to delay the inevitable while I attempt to think of something else. Definitely not the blanket.
“Ford.”
“What?” I smile.
“Tell me.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know.”
“Just because you want to know doesn’t mean you should know.”
Her brow creases. “You tell me everything.”
A dry laugh pops out of me. “Not everything.”
“Then share with me—come on.”
I shake my head, my heart rate starting to pick up from her nagging. “No.”
“Ford, I’m serious. Let’s get it all out there. In the open.”
“Not a good idea,” I say, shaking my head as she scoots closer and puts her hand on my thigh.
“No, this is a great idea. This would be a great way to move forward. Get everything out there.”
“Larkin.” I shake my head. “No.”
“Why? Are you scared? You don’t need to be scared around me.”
“I’m not scared around you—”
“Then what is it?”
“It was you!” I shout, unable to hold it back any longer.
“What?” she asks, looking stunned.
Knowing this is crossing the line in the worst way possible, but unable to take it any longer, I reach out, grip her cheek, and rub my thumb over her soft, rosy-colored skin. “It was you, Larkin, that made me smile. All fucking you . . .”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
PALMER
I hold my breath.
Thunder rumbles in the background.
The puzzle rests in front of us, untouched.
And my body itches with desire as Beau glances down at my mouth and then back up at my eyes.
I want him to kiss me.
I want this more than anything.
As he leans in, my breath catches in my chest, my pulse hammering impatiently, drowning out the commotion of the storm outside. I wet my lips one last time, and as he closes the space between us, I brace myself for—
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Dr. Beau, are you home?”
Beau shoots back and stands from the couch.
“It’s an emergency, Dr. Beau, please tell us you’re home.”
The affectionate, easygoing, sweet man who was just wooing me in all the right ways morphs into Mr. Emergency Room. He bolts over to the door, flinging it open to reveal a woman holding what looks to be a two-year-old in her arms.
“Margorie, what’s wrong?”
“He did it again,” she says.
The boy turns around, showing off some sort of action figure dog stuck in his nostril.
“Chase is on the case,” the little boy says. “On the booger case.” And then he laughs, his voice nasally.
“He won’t let me pull it out. Please, can you help remove it?”
“Of course,” Beau says with a reassuring touch to the mom’s arm. “Meet me downstairs and I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you,” she says and takes off, the kid giggling the entire time.
Beau shuts the door and goes straight to his bedroom. I’m about to ask him what he’s doing, but when he comes back wearing a pair of jeans, his hair slightly styled to the side, I realize he’s in doctor mode. As he puts on his shoes, he looks over at me, still sitting on the couch, our mood completely ruined by a plastic dog up the nose.
“Shit. I’m sorry, Palmer.”
“It’s okay.” I smile at him. “Go have fun plucking that out.”
“It’ll take two seconds, I promise.”
“Seriously, it’s fine. Do what you need to do.”
“Promise you’re not going to leave?”
I glance out the window and then back at him. “It’s still raining, I have no way of getting home, and I don’t want to get another recast because I get this wet again,” I say, holding up my arm. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to be staying put.”
“Good.” He walks up to me, places both hands on the back of the couch, and leans down, pressing a kiss on my forehead. “Be back.” My stomach flutters.
“Okay.” I wave. “Have fun.”
“Yeah, so much fun.” He chuckles before shutting the door behind him.
Sighing, I lean back on the couch and mentally curse the child who put Chase on the case, whatever the hell that means. So close.
So freaking close to finally finding out what it’s like to have Beau Novak’s lips on mine, and now I’m sitting here, feeling like I have a heavy case of . . . hell, of blue balls.
How is that even possible?
This morning, I woke up with the worst hangover, not from wine, but from my family. I decided to flee the nest, get some perspective, do some thinking, and next thing I know, I’m being saved by a knight in a white lab coat.
A knight I used to think about all the time.
A knight I chose not to think about after the fire.
A knight who has serendipitously come bounding back into my life.
I need to tell Laramie.
Reaching for my phone, I type out a quick text to him.
Palmer: I’m in Dr. Beau’s apartment. He almost kissed me.
I spoke with Laramie the other night and told him how I keep running into Beau. Laramie insists I call him “Dr. Beau” because he thinks it has a better ring to it. He also insists on pictures. I’ve been able to sneak one, but that’s about it.
My phone dings.
Laramie: Heaven help me, is he naked in the other room, wearing nothing but a stethoscope and ready to give you a physical examination?