He took my elbow, pulling me back until I was against his chest. “Thank you,” he said.
Tucked into him, I let out a long breath. As much as I liked to tease Manning for his grumpiness when we were apart, I felt our distance, too. Every hour of every day. There were times I was tempted to drop out and leave Pomona so we could finally start our lives together, but it was the closest college to us with a veterinary program. “What’re you thanking me for?” I asked. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
Blue tried to nose between us. Manning scratched behind her ear while keeping me close. “You’re home early. That’s worth giving thanks for.”
“I wish I could be here more.”
“I want that, too, you know I do, but it’s not forever.”
Even though I knew our distance bothered Manning, he’d been nothing but supportive of my career. He’d stuck by me as I’d finished out my contract in Hollywood, then when I’d turned around and picked a university that was also two hours away. Over the last decade and a half, we’d gotten pretty used to being apart. Maybe what we needed now was a piece—or even a promise—of forever.
Damn it, Val. It was possible she’d known exactly what seed she was planting when she’d brought up marriage. That girl had always been wiser than she looked.
And then, any thoughts in my head vanished. Manning bent down and shook the ground I stood on with a slow, sweet kiss. “Should’ve done that as soon as I walked in the door,” he said.
“You were excited,” I teased, sliding my arms around his neck.
“Still am.” He thumbed the corner of my mouth. “Your lips are all red. If I’d known you were coming tonight, I would’ve shaved.”
I ran the back of my hand over the short beard he’d grown during the week we’d been apart. “You never let it get this long.”
“Because I don’t like to scratch you up.”
“So if I weren’t around, you’d go full Sasquatch?”
“Nah. All this hair itches. I’m just too lazy to shave it when you’re gone.”
Considering it was December, I kind of dug the mountain man look, but if he didn’t want to shave, I’d do it for him. He did enough for me on a daily basis; tonight was about him.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” I said, slipping out of his arms. “Go lock up. I have plans for you later.”
“Plans?” He patted my behind and picked up his belt from the counter on his way out the door. “Can’t wait.”
I turned back to Blue, who looked from me to the food as if I might finally break down and scoop a serving into her dog dish. A home-cooked meal, blueberry pie, and sex—that was a plan, wasn’t it? A good one, too. No sense in bringing up anything as serious as marriage tonight.
If only I could stop thinking about it.
2
While Manning did the dishes, I laid a towel over the counter in our master bath, filled a cup under the faucet, and got his razor from a cabinet.
Manning came in rubbing his stomach. “I think I ate too much.”
“I told you not to have that second piece of pie.”
He nodded at the scene unfolding in front him. “What’s all this?”
“Get a chair from the dining room.”
“You gonna shave me?”
“You said you needed one.” I glanced at him over my shoulder. “And you’re always raving about how much you love—”
“Shaving you? Mmm.” He came up behind me, catching my eye in the mirror above our sinks as he slid a hand down my tummy. “Speaking of, you should be due for one yourself.”
I relaxed against his front as he pushed his hand into the waist of my jeans. “Some of my friends at school have started waxing,” I told him as he toyed with the lace band of my thong. “Do you want me to do that? It’s cleaner.”
“And put me out of the job?” he rasped into my ear, his wandering fingers making my breath catch. “You know how much I love to do it.”
Manning was a true creative. It was something everyone else overlooked. He hadn’t just built our home. He didn’t just put furniture together. He designed with attention to every detail. And he’d designed me, too. We’d spent many nights in the clawfoot tub he’d chosen and installed. He shaved my legs, took his time on my bikini line so he wouldn’t nick me, and was never satisfied until it was exactly as he wanted it. It always led to sex. His focus and care, and the slow, controlled way he groomed me until he was content, was a special kind of foreplay.
Tempted to give in to him, I blinked away my haze and forced myself back to reality. I’d get mine soon enough, but first I wanted to pamper this man who worked way too hard. I urged his hand from my pants. “Later,” I said. “Right now, what I really need is a chair.”