The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(65)

"Tell me something," I said.

"I've already told you the important stuff," he remarked.

My lips twitched into a smirk. "Why are you drinking?"

He cut his gaze toward the island and his abandoned tumbler. "Jet lag, I think."

"Since it's three hours earlier in California, that's pure bullshit." I smiled up at him. "Come on, Rob. Tell me what's happening with you."

"I was getting dressed and I thought about calling Eddie. For a minute, I forgot my best friend is gone. I forgot that he pissed away a lifelong friendship and I can't call him up to tell him—anything. I can't tell him anything. Not anymore. And I can't be happy for him tonight. They deserve each other. They share the same views on loyalty."

He moved his hands to my hips but didn't stay there. He skimmed up to my waist and down to my backside, his touch gentle. Almost tentative. He swayed once again but this wasn't a drunken stumble. It was a dance to which neither of us knew the steps but we had a good idea how we wanted it to feel. We held each other, moving together in a waltz set to breaths and heartbeats.

Rob continued, "I guess I'm mourning the loss of my friend. I don't think I've allowed myself that yet. So, I poured myself a drink. And then, one more. I recognize this isn't the most well-adjusted coping mechanism for thirty-eight-year-old men but I've never once suggested I was well-adjusted."

"What did you want to share with him?"

He tipped his head to the side, a half-smile playing on his lips as he glanced down at me. "I wanted to tell him I met the game changer. That I fell for the game changer."

I stared at the freckled skin between his open collar. So much easier than meeting his gaze. So much easier than sliding all the way into this quicksand of his affection. "Is that so?"

An impatient growl sounded in his throat. "Stop fishing for compliments. I've already said you're hot as fuck and I love you. Don't make me confess my plans to steal you away and marry you."

I leaned back, touched a hand to my throat. If I was wearing pearls, I would've clutched them. "What was that?"

"Shhhh," he whispered, his index finger pressed to his lips. "It's a secret but I'm going to get you a diamond the size of an egg and you're going to make a husband out of me, love."

"What kind of egg?" We'd shuffled all the way across the room now. "Are we talking about chicken eggs or robin eggs? There's a big difference, Rob."

That was my incredibly mature coping mechanism in action. Give me an important moment and I'd give you some topflight sarcasm.

"Ostrich," he replied, serious as a stroke. "I might have to steal from a few monarchies to make it happen but they'll never notice it missing."

"Oh, good." I bobbed my head in agreement. "That's a good strategy."

"Thought so." He lifted his shoulders, let them fall. "I don't think we need to go to this party. I don't need to prove anything to them." He ran his knuckles down the line of my spine before wrapping his arms around my torso. He held me tight, almost too tight. I loved it. "I don't need to do it. Not when I'd much rather stay here and peel that dress off you."

"This"—I traced the fine detailing around the dress's v-neck—"is not hitting the floor until it's been adequately flaunted."

Rob's eyes crinkled as he laced our fingers together, brought our clasped hands to his chest. "Oh, love. I'll flaunt you. I'll flaunt the fuck out of you. And you know what? I won't even have to work that hard at it. You, just being all your you-ishness, is all it takes." He dropped his chin to the crown of my head, blew out a breath. "Eddie will take one look at us and he'll know. He'll know he did me a favor—a shitty one, but a favor. He'll know I never looked at Miranda the way I look at you."

"And how is that?" I whispered. I had to whisper. Had to pretend I didn't need every last one of his words.

He dragged his gaze up my body, taking forever to meet my eyes. "You're the only thing in the world I can see. Only thing I want to see."

My lips parted but I produced no sound. I couldn't explain it but those words hit me harder than his promise of love. They stole my breath, blurred my vision. I wasn't certain but it felt like my eyes transformed into cartoon hearts and throbbed right out of my skull.

Jesus Horatio Christ. I was falling for him. This, this was it. Falling was like this—a cartwheel and a jump from the high dive and tripping on a crack in the sidewalk and feeling the wind knocked out of your lungs as you crashed down. All of those things, all at once. Hot goose bumps ran down my arms and over my chest. A shiver sparked through my shoulders. My stomach—wherever it was—flipped, flipped again. Everything was warm and tingly.

He…loved me.

And I…oh my god. Oh, my god.

"You know what?" he asked. "We'll go. We'll drink champagne and toast this engagement because if those cocksuckers hadn't found each other, I never would've found you. I'm happy for it."

I tipped my head to the side. "Now we're thanking them?"

"Oh, fuck no," he roared. "Fuck. No. They deserve chlamydia and back-to-back tax audits."

"Rob. That might be a little severe." When he arched his brows, I continued, "The audits, not the chlamydia."