One Snowy Night (Heartbreaker Bay #2.5)(19)

With a slight shake of his head, he bent a little and brushed his mouth over hers. “There’s something I want.”

“Another kiss?” she asked, her voice a hopeful whisper that made his chest both swell and ache at the same time.

“Yes,” he said. “But more.”

“A bunch of kisses?”

At the hint of laughter in her voice, he smiled. She’d relaxed and was teasing him. “More,” he said softly.

She blinked. “You . . . want to sleep with me?”

“Oh yes,” he breathed, pulling her in. “I want that, Rory. And I want it bad too. But still more.”

“I . . . don’t understand.”

“I want something between us.”

She froze. “Like . . . a condom?”

He laughed and pressed his forehead to hers. He kept thinking about what his sister said, about him giving the next woman he felt something for a shot. A real shot. He really hated to ever admit Cass might have been onto something, but he honestly had never felt this way about another woman before. “A relationship,” he said and watched her mouth fall open.

“I—- You—-” She gulped in air. “With me?”

Now they were on the same page. A damn long time coming too. “Yes,” he said and kissed her, liking the way she melted into him as if her body was way ahead of her brain at this point. “You in?”

She stared up at him. “I’m not very good at relationships,” she said very seriously.

“Says who?”

This seemed to stymie her. “Every guy I’ve ever dated?”

“Then you’ve been dating the wrong guys.” He rubbed his jaw to hers. “Take a chance, Rory. Take the risk.”

Her hands came up to his face, her fingers slipping into his hair, and it felt so good he tightened his grip on her.

“I’ve got a bad track record with the -people in my life,” she said quietly and shook her head when he started to speak. “No, you know it’s true. I’m not a good bet, Max. In fact, I’m a really bad one.”

That she absolutely believed this broke his heart. She’d survived a shitty childhood and then a rough stint on her own in San Francisco. But she had survived, even thrived. And then there was how she’d handled tonight and all the storm had thrown at them without blinking an eye.

And yet this, with him—-which should’ve been one of the easier things in her life—-scared the hell out of her.

“You need to believe me on this,” she said, backing free of him. “I’m not built that way, I’m not good at relationships. I’m not good at letting -people in and keeping them. I don’t know how.”

He caught her and reeled her panicking body in. “It’s okay,” he said very gently, cupping her face, tilting it to his to make sure she heard him. “Because I do.”

While she continued to stare up at him, he lowered his head and gave her a soft kiss. And then a not--so--soft kiss that he seemed to have trouble tearing himself free of. “You have no idea, do you,” he murmured, “why I bring Carl in every week to get groomed. And it’s not because he needs it. It’s because we’ve both got it bad for you. We use all available opportunities as an excuse to see you.”

She choked out a surprised laugh. “That is a costly way to do it.”

He laughed. “I know. Do you trust me, Rory?”

“Yes,” she said without a beat of hesitation.

“I wanted to drive you here,” he said. “I wanted any reason at all to spend time with you. I’m serious about you, and if I’m being honest, that’s been building for a long time.”

He could tell by the look on her face that she was serious about him too, scared to death or not.

“I think about you,” he told her.

She shook her head. “When? When do you think about me?”

“When I’m sleeping. And working. And not working.” He stopped to take in her smile. “You’re the one for me, Rory. And I think you feel the same way about me.”

She could’ve lied her way out of that if she wanted. He knew she had the skills. But she didn’t. Holding his gaze in hers, she backed him to the bed and then, still holding eye contact, gave him a shove to his chest that had him dropping to the mattress.

He laughed but that laughter stuck in his throat when she got on the bed and slowly climbed up his body, letting him feel her, all of her, and with a groan he began to wrap her up tight in her arms and—-

That’s when they were jumped by 150 pounds of dog wanting to get in on the fun, panting dog breath in their faces, making Rory laugh.

Max loved the sound and smiled at her as he reared up to kiss her, having to reach around Carl, but Rory stopped him with a hand to his chest.

He stilled. “Problem?” he asked. “Other than the heavyweight road block named Carl?”

At the sound of his name, Carl barked, excited they were finally having all the fun.

“I think maybe he’s trying to tell us something,” Rory said.

“Like?”

“Like . . . like maybe we’re moving too fast.”

“I don’t think Carl’s that deep of a thinker,” he said. “Down.”

Rory started to shift but he gripped her and with a laugh said, “Carl. Carl, down. You stay.”