Page 92 of Indescribable
His eyes are heated, the deep brown turning impossibly darker. I watch as he swallows hard, leaning his forehead against mine.
“You’re killing me here, sweetheart. I’m trying my best to be a gentleman but…”
“But what?”
“Well, a gentleman doesn’t rip your clothes off and toss you in the back seat to have his wicked way with you while we’re sitting in the Target parking lot.”
Oh, yes, he does, I want to say but instead I blow out a ragged breath and sit back, fanning myself.
“Okay, let’s show the unnecessary items. I was kind of boring,” I mumble, handing him the travel mug and picture frame.
“Simple isn’t boring,” he reminds me. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Here’s yours,” he says, looking a little shy and handing me a plastic Target bag. “This is more of a combo of past and present.”
I reach in and find a pretty little gold necklace with a simple stone in the center. It’s my mom’s birthstone.
And that’s when I’m done.
Gone.
I can’t hold back the tears anymore and begin to weep in the front seat of his pickup with rain pouring down outside and the feel of Brock’s arms wrapped around me.
This man.
He’s too good to be true.
When I’ve finally gotten myself under control, I look up at him and whisper my thanks.
“I’ve waited over fifteen years to take you on a date and spoil you, Naomi. You don’t have to thank me when I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
“Fifteen years?”
“I was scared of losing you and telling you how I really felt so I never did. Then I actually did lose you and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. I won’t let you go again or be the coward I was back then. I screwed up and didn’t tell you how I felt but maybe that was okay. It wasn’t our time then. Now it’s our time, if you’ll have me. I’m all in, Naomi. One hundred percent in this but if you need more time or if you’re not feeling that, too, I’ll back off. The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured.”
Somewhere during his speech that could be in a movie, I forget to breathe. They’re not the three little words but they’re better somehow. They’re proof that I’m right where I’m supposed to be in this moment.
I give him three little words that I hope explain how I’m feeling as well.
“I’m all in.”
Several beats go by where all I can hear is the pounding of my heart, the beating of rain against the metal of Brock’s truck, and our ragged breath.
“Next stop is up to you. We can reach into that box and see what else is in store or…”
“Or, choose between my place or yours?” I lean over and kiss him soundly on the lips. “Take me to bed or lose me forever, Brock.”
“Did you justTop Gunme?”
“Damn skippy.”
“You’re the best,” he says, grinning.
“My place is closer.”
He barks out a laugh. “By like, three minutes.”