Chapter Twenty
Lauren
T he air is cooler than I expect when we step outside, but I don’t shiver. Braxton’s here, his presence steady and warm at my side, and that’s enough to keep the chill at bay.
We don’t speak at first. The silence between us is companionable, not strained. His hand brushes mine as we walk, and my heart does that annoying little flutter it started doing around him lately. For years, I told myself I wasn’t the kind of woman who goes all weak in the knees around a man, but here I am, betraying my own narrative.
When we reach the steps to my cabin, I glance at him. He looks calm, maybe even a little amused. “Is this far enough to stop the soldiers from speaking in your head?”
He’s becoming enough to do that all on his own, but he’s already looking a little cocky so I don’t share that. “Yes. Thank you for walking me,” I say, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. It’s not brilliant conversation, but after everything we’ve shared that day anything I say now will sound anti- climactic.
Still, being with him puts the rest on the back burner. He fills my senses, and my emotions are all tangled up in the weight of his presence; the way he makes me feel grounded and off-kilter at the same time is exhilarating.
“Anytime,” he replies, his voice low and warm.
I put my hand on the railing, but don’t climb the steps. Not yet. Instead, I turn and find him watching me. “You don’t have to hover, you know. We’re safe. Ray and the others are patrolling,” It’s not really a reprimand, more like a half-hearted attempt to put some distance between us—distance I don’t really want.
“I’m not hovering,” he says with a small smile. “Just standing. Big difference.”
His grin spreads just enough to make me roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling back.
“Well, I’m going to head inside,” I say. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”
“Me too,” he says, but he doesn’t budge.
I want to ask him inside so badly. No. Not tonight.
“Braxton—”
“Lauren.” His voice is serious now, but there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Yes?”
“It really has been a long day,” I say apologetically.
He chuckles, a low and rumbling sound, like thunder in the distance. “Exactly, but I’ll still stay until you close the door. ”
Still smiling, I shake my head, forcing myself to step up onto the porch, only then turning to face him again. He’s still standing at the base of the steps, looking up at me with the expression I’ve often seen on his face but only now understand.
I want a future with this man. I do. I want it with every fiber in me. So what’s holding me back? “Goodnight, Braxton,” I say softly.
“Goodnight, Lauren,” he replies, his voice just as quiet.
I start to turn toward the door, but his expression makes me hesitate. There’s something unsaid in his eyes, something that sends a warm flush through me.
“Braxton?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t give up on me. I’m almost there.”
His smile is wide and genuine. “I’m not going anywhere, sweet cheeks.”
That gains him a laugh from me. “Sweet cheeks? Really?”
“Honey muffin?”
“Oh, Lord.”
“Kitten?”
“Which of your testicles would you like me to remove because that’s where this is headed if you call me any of those again.”
His deep laugh echoes through the night. “You’ll feel differently after you see the perfection of them.”
Oh, my God. I’m roaring now. “Great, now they’re all I can see in my head.”
“I don’t hate that.”
We share another long smile before I open the door. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse than bragging about your jet.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I’ll give you some time with both, then you tell me.”
I don’t remember the last time I’ve smiled this much. The door swings open, but I don’t step inside right away. Instead, I glance back at him one last time. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He nods, his smile softening into something more serious. “I’ll be here.”
And with that, I step inside, closing the door behind me. For a moment, I lean against it, my heart still thudding like a traitor in my chest.
When I flip on the lights, I gasp. Every corner of the cabin is overflowing with vases of sunflowers. Big ones. Small ones. All colors and varieties.
Tears fill my eyes and begin to pour down my cheeks.
How does he do it?
How does he know me better than the men who can read my thoughts?
I whip the door open.
He’s still there at the bottom of the steps with an even bigger smile on his face.
I try to sound stern when I say, “Braxton Hayes, if you think I’m going to fuck you just because you bought me flowers...” I can’t keep the smile from my face. “You are absolutely right. Get in here.”