“Come on, Kenna. We can go visit them. We’ll stay the entire day and then come back here to sleep.”
“Rip.” I sigh. He’s making this hard for me. “I’ve been here every night since we came home from Vegas. It’s Sunday, Gramps is home, and even though I’ve been checking on him, I feel like I need to be there.”
“Fine.” He stands and quickly pulls on his jeans from last night, sans underwear.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going with you. I’ll just pack a bag.”
“We can’t do that. Not in my grandparents’ house.” My eyes widen at the thought.
“Kenna, do you really believe they that think we’re sleeping in separate beds while you’re here?”
“No, I don’t think that, but we can’t do that there. That’s all kinds of wrong.”
He walks toward me and places his index finger under my chin so that our eyes meet. “I’m not saying I’m going to make love to you there. I just need you close when I go to sleep. I’ll talk to Harold.”
“No. No, you are not going to talk to Harold about anything. He just had a heart attack. He doesn’t need this stress.”
“I know.” He nods, wrapping me in his warm embrace. “I just can’t handle the thought of you not being here.”
“That’s what dating is, Rip. We see each other, maybe have a sleepover or two, and we go home to our own places.”
“Then we’re not dating. We’re more than dating. I don’t give a fuck what you label it, but that’s what we are.”
I smile up at him. “You’re going to be okay, cowboy.”
“Last night…” He swallows hard. “Kenna, tell me this isn’t you running away from me. From us. Tell me I didn’t scare you away.”
My hand lands on his cheek. “You didn’t scare me away. Was it intense? Yes. Was it more of a declaration than I was expecting? Definitely, it’s soon, and I just… I want you to be sure, you know? I know that you’re a fixer, Rip. At least when it comes to your sister and me, that’s what you’ve always done. Even if it meant marrying me when we were kids.” I kiss underneath his chin. “A lot has happened, and maybe, just maybe, it’s because you knew I was upset about Gramps.”
“No. Fuck that. McKenna, you know better.” He steps back and hits his hands against his bare chest. “I’m standing right here, right now telling you that everything between us is real.” He moves until the back of his knees hits the bed, and he sits, pulling me between his legs. His forehead rests against my belly, and his arms are wrapped tightly around me.
I give him the time that he needs. Running my hands through his hair, I do my best to soothe him. It’s not my intention to upset him, but I’m gone for this man. And I never want him to feel trapped. That’s what happened to my parents, and it didn’t end well for them. I never want to live that kind of life again. I was little, but I have the scars as memories.
When Rip finally lifts his head, his eyes are bright and full of so much emotion. “McKenna, what I feel for you is real. I promise you.” He links his hands with mine and places them over his heart. “You’re right here. When I tell you I can’t sleep without you, it’s not to make you feel better. It’s because I don’t ever want to be without you. It doesn’t matter if I’m asleep or if I’m awake.”
“I can’t just keep staying here like I live here, Rip.”
“Then move in with me.”
“What?” I try to take a step back, but he’s faster and locks his arms around my waist, holding me to him.
“Move in with me. Make this your home. Our home together.”
“That’s a big step just to not have to sleep alone.”
“That’s not what this is,” he growls.
I know that it’s not. It’s hard for me when there are so many worries racing through my mind. “I’ll think about it.”
He nods. “That’s all I ask.” Sliding his hand behind my neck, he pulls me closer and kisses me softly. “I’m still going with you. Maybe there are some things around the house I can take care of while you visit with them.”
“You sure you don’t have things to do here?”
“I’m sure. You come first, McKenna.”
“I need to finish getting ready.”
“Me too.” Another quick kiss and he releases me.
We finish getting ready for the day. I don’t bother with my hair. I went to bed with it wet after our shower last night, and it’s a mess. Instead, I tie it up in a knot on top of my head and call it good.
Once we’re in the truck driving the short distance to my grandparents’ place, I’m suddenly nervous. Are we moving too fast? Has he really had the time he needs to think about this? About us? Will he have regrets?