His eyes never left mine. There was no amusement now, no anger, no coldness. There was something else entirely.
Duke didn’t speak. Instead, he lowered his mouth and kissed the ever-loving crap out of me.
The crunch of boots against gravel and a throat clearing made us stop, which was good, because I was ready to tear off his clothes and mount him right here in the dirt.
We both looked to our left, and Anna was standing there, watching us with a smile on her face.
I stepped back. Or tried to. Duke didn’t let me go far, as he intertwined my fingers with his.
“Are you two okay with lasagna for dinner?” Anna asked, looking between us. “Anastasia, we can work on that being your first go-to dish. It’s easy and a crowd-pleaser.”
She meant it in the kindest way possible, of course. Anna was selfless, giving, patient. I was coming to look forward to the evenings in the kitchen with her and the conversations we had.
But the last sentence caught me.
Crowd-pleaser.
I was well acquainted with crowds. In fact, I felt more welcome in them than at the dinner table with this boisterous and loving family. The fact I was familiar with large groups of people had nothing to do with the number of friends I had. Whatever dinner parties I had were full of alternative motives, whereas carbs, gluten, and cheese were never present.
After this was all over, I wouldn’t have anyone to cook lasagna for.
That wouldn’t make me refuse her offer, of course, but it would sour it slightly.
“As painful as it is for me to refuse your lasagna, we have other plans,” Duke said to his mother before I could reply. His arm was light on my hip, but heavy with promise.
“Other plans?” I repeated, tilting my chin to look at his profile. And damn, if it was a good one.
“That’s okay, we’ll do lasagna another night,” Anna said quickly. Dragging my gaze from her son, I saw a warm and slightly sad smile on her face.
Duke didn’t wait for me to say anything else. “See you tomorrow, Mom.”
Then he directed us away from the house, toward the field leading to our cabin. Directing us meaning I would’ve had to fight him in front of his mother in order to stay in place. Granted, I wasn’t opposed to fighting him in front of his mother if he wanted to manhandle me—she was apt to support me—but I didn’t want to fight him.
It was sad, really. We hadn’t been at the ranch that long. I should’ve held out. Should’ve held on to sense.
Duke’s hand was strong and dry intertwined with mine on the walk back to the cabin. It was a routine we’d fallen into, morning and evening. Sure, driving would be quicker, but it wasn’t about quicker around here. It was about hearing the birds in the morning and crickets in the evening. It was about sunrise, sunset, and the midnight stars. It was about the breeze that smelled of grass and sunshine.
Duke and I had not held hands on any of the previous walks.
Granted, up until this morning, he hadn’t used his mouth to give me two of the most intense orgasms of my life.
I hated people that held hands. No one really liked it. Someone’s palms were always sweaty, the other gripped too hard or not hard enough. No one’s strides were exactly the same, so someone had to walk awkwardly in order to make it work.
It was just assholes who wanted to scream at the world “we’re in love.”
But here I was, holding hands with Duke. Our strides matched each other, both palms were dry, and our grips equally firm.
I should’ve let go.
“What are our plans?” I asked about halfway home.
Duke glanced at me but I didn’t dare make eye contact. Walking while holding hands was one thing; holding hands, walking, and staring into each other’s eyes was quite another.
“Figured that the way we’ve done things is pretty jacked to say the least,” he said. “To be fair, I don’t think either of us had expected it to go this way.”
Yeah, I definitely didn’t expect any of this. Hoped for it, in some dark recesses of my mind, but expectation was emotional trauma wanting to happen. I tried to avoid it.
“Not sayin’ I’m not fucking pleased with the turn of events,” Duke continued, squeezing my hand. “I really am. But figured since everything else around us is jacked, I’m gonna try and do at least one thing right.”
“What?”
He grinned at me and fuck if that grin didn’t make me want to do the melty girl thing.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Dean Martin was playing when we walked into the cabin.
I loved Dean Martin.
This was not something I’d told Duke.
It was something, however, I’d told Harriet.
The lights were on low, and there were a few candles scattered on various surfaces, candles that Duke would not have been able to light since he’d been out all day and at the homestead when I’d ridden in earlier. He had been freshly showered, though, I’d noted that with hunger and slight disappointment. I liked the dirt of the day clinging to him. It seemed natural.