25. Rose #2
“No. I cooked it for her, and we ate it.” Reed keeps his steady gaze on me. We’re apparently in dare mode now.
“Yuck. Was it good?”
“So tasty,” I tell her. “Reed had seconds.”
His mouth curls along the edges, teasing me with a hint of the smile he shone on me a moment ago. Like he knows if he gives me the whole thing again, I’ll be so dazzled I just might pass out.
“Was that at Uncle Reed’s cabin?”
“Yes.” A more hesitant lie, since the last time I went along with comments about his place, I overdid it.
“Isn’t Uncle Reed’s cabin so great?” Jovie snags a handful of sour candies to wash down her slice of pizza. “My friend has a playhouse in her backyard. His cabin is like that, but for grownups.”
“Thanks, nugget,” Reed says dryly.
“It’s so cute and small.”
“Okay. Maybe we should focus on the game.”
“It’s like being in a real-life dollhouse.”
Now I’m the one stupidly smiling at him. I need to see this ramshackle dollhouse. He stares back, refusing to break.
Jovie gasps. “Oh, your cat is so fluffy!”
I follow where she’s looking to find the cat slowly walking through the living room toward us.
His gaze is wary like he’s expecting an ambush, but I try not to react too overtly.
After our almost-snuggle the night Reed and I watched a movie, he’s made a few aloof overtures.
Getting close but never demanding cuddles.
Are cuddle withdrawals a thing? You probably have to have had them first to get the shakes.
He comes close enough to rub once against my leg, arching his back into it before retreating to the living room. He sits and watches us like we’re his lab experiment and he needs to make a note of everything we do.
“That was almost a declaration of love,” Reed says.
“Grumps are subtle that way.”
“Did you name him yet?” Jovie asks.
“Not yet. He’s tough to choose for.” My computer boasts a file full of failed name attempts.
“You could call him Stormy. Because he looks like a cloud.”
“Or Morton,” Reed offers. “Because he’s so salty.”
“I don’t know.” I watch him casually lick a paw as if he’s not putting on a show for us. “Stormy’s not bad. Clouds can look soft and fluffy, but they can be dark and dangerous, too. Cute without being too sweet. That just might work.”
As if he knows we’re talking about him, he sits down, lifts a leg, and starts licking his own butt.
“Gross!” Jovie hides her face in her hands. “I don’t want a cat.”
“Storms can shock you, too,” Reed says.
Yep. I think Stormy’s the one.
Two hours later, Jovie and I surrender our armies to Reed in an overly dramatic depiction of our soldiers’ sorrow.
We’re nowhere close to finishing the game, but he’s got the most land amassed, and it’s time for him to get Jovie home for bed.
It’s full dark out now and well past nine.
Reed’s been texting Luke to let him know when to expect her back.
“I can’t believe you picked on us so much, Uncle Reed.” Jovie fakes a pout as we gather all the army units into their tiny boxes. Complaining about the outcome seems to be an expected part of their trash talk.
“I didn’t have much choice.” He sweeps his pieces off the board into one hand. “I could either battle my niece, or I could battle my girlfriend.”
“You could have battled yourself.”
“The game doesn’t work that way, nugget.”
“We’ll team up again next time,” I tell her. “We’ll find his weaknesses.”
He meets my gaze. “You already know them all.”
I don’t know where this flirty version of Reed came from, but I am so here for it.
I bag up the candy for Jovie to take home, and we gradually move toward the door. She’s literally dragging her feet, taking an age to cross the room to where she toed off her sneakers. Her stamp of approval—which is how I’m taking her obstinate reluctance to leave my house—makes my heart happy.
Almost as much as the soft looks Reed keeps aiming my way. Something turned the dial on our relationship up a notch on the flirty scale, and I have to say, I quite enjoy this new setting. But now it’s got me wondering just how high that dial goes.
Reed’s holding the game, the candy, and Jovie’s light pink hoodie. She plops on the floor and slips on her shoes, messing up the ties as though she’s never done it before, only to start all over again. I can appreciate her stalling tactics. I don’t want the evening to end, either.
“You’ll see Rose again soon, nugget.”
She looks up at me, hope shining in her eyes. “Are you coming to Gram and Granddad’s for dinner tomorrow?”
Reed and I haven’t talked about more family dinners yet. We haven’t talked about more anything yet, but lately, that’s all I want. More. I’m greedy for it, ready to reach out and grab it with both hands.
“She’s always welcome to come if she wants to.” He says it as though that’s good enough. No pressure, no pushing, just an invitation I can do with as I please. Whatever I want.
Jovie’s mouth stretches into an O, and she hops up again, shoes untied as she bounds over to me. “And you’re coming to the cabin next weekend, right? Uncle Nathan said Reed might change your mind.”
“He did.” We confirmed that one, at least. “Is it going to be fun?”
A leading question, since I’ve heard her exuberant thoughts on the cabin.
She lights up like a sparkler. “So much fun! We do a big campfire with s’mores, and we look at stars and watch bats. It’s so great.”
I glance to Reed. “Bats?”
He ticks his head to the side. “Harmless.”
“Dad and I go up sometimes by ourselves, and sometimes Gram and Granddad take just me.” Jovie’s chattering so fast, she’s almost out of breath. “But it’s the most fun when everybody comes. It’s my favorite place in the whole wide world.”
“I can’t wait to see it.”
She throws her arms around my middle in an enthusiastic goodbye hug. “Bye, Rose. Thank you for letting me come over.”
I wrap her up, squeezing her just as hard as she’s squeezing me. “I’m glad you did, Jovie.”
Her eyes are bright when she lets me go. “And thank you for the extra candy!”
Hopefully a bleary-eyed Luke doesn’t turn up in the coffee shop tomorrow to complain about her sugar high and subsequent crash.
I turn to Reed, ready to hug him goodbye, too.
It’s awkward, loaded down as he is with Jovie’s goodies, but I throw my arms around his shoulders and hold him tight anyway.
He slides his free hand up my spine to splay between my shoulder blades, drawing me close.
His head tilts toward me, our cheeks brushing like he’s trying to get even closer.
Forward my mail here because this is where I want to live. Snuggled up to Reed, breathing in his crisp scent, luxuriating in his warmth. My favorite address.
I start to pull away but decide to go back in to kiss him on the cheek.
That’s innocent enough PDA to be acceptable in front of a child, right?
But he turns at the last second, and half my mouth lands on half of his.
My heart rate kicks up, a swarm of butterflies buzzing through my chest as I sink back onto my heels.
His dark gaze is stuck on me like he’ll never look away again.
In the spirit of doing too much, I’m tempted to throw caution aside and lean up a third time for a full kiss.
But Jovie’s snickers dampen that urge, reminding me less is more.
Especially in front of a chatty ten-year-old girl who’s likely to relay everything that happened here tonight to the rest of her family.
Possibly with embellishments.
“Thanks for coming.” If he can tell from my breathy voice that I want to linger on our goodbye, there’s nothing I can do about that now.
His throat bobs as he swallows. That movement is ridiculously sexy, the corded line of his neck just begging for a kiss. A slow caress, bare minimum. Since when have I noticed necks?
Since Reed Bridger, that’s when.
“Thanks for having me.”
Jovie breaks out into fresh giggles, covering her face like we’re doing much more than standing here making eyes at each other.
“Us.” Reed clears his throat, his intense gaze fading. “Thanks for inviting us.”
“Anytime.”
They head out, and I lock up behind them. My body tingling like I’m floating on a cloud, I turn to find the cat sitting on the stairs, watching me.
“What do you think, Stormy? Should I fall in love with him?”
He meows at me, offering a slow blink. Our first conversation. Feels like a sign.
“You’re right. It’s too late to stop it now.”
I’m already falling. I just don’t know whether he’ll be waiting to catch me, or if I’m about to hit the ground.