Now I’m hungry. “I haven’t had this in a very long time.” I take a bite and sigh. “So good.”
“I got you a strawberry milkshake too.”
“I’ll have it for dessert.” I grin and sip my beer, immediately relaxing. “Remember that time that you, Mia, and I went to Burgerville and Mia tried to tell the cooks in the back that they were doing it wrong?”
Landon laughs and nods. “She’s always been bossy when it comes to food.”
“She’s just always been bossy.” I munch my fries. “But her heart is in the right place. I love that girl.”
“She loves you too,” Landon says as he reaches over, grips my wrist in his hand, and takes a bite of the fries in my fingers.
“You have fries.”
“Yours taste better.”
“Okay, tell me the truth.”
“Always my goal,” he replies, and sips his beer.
“Are you okay with being home?”
He smiles. “Lucas asked me the same thing today. It was something I had to wrap my head around. It’s not that I hate Portland. My family is here, and this is a fun city. But—”
“But you enjoyed saving the world,” I say.
“I didn’t save the world, but I enjoyed what I did.”
“So how do you feel?” I raise a brow. “You didn’t answer the question.”
“I feel better every day.” He sits back and watches my face. “I feel really good.”
“I’m glad. You were so sad when you got home.” His eyes narrow and he cocks his head to the side. “I saw it. But there’s less sad now. I’m glad.”
“And how are you, Camille?” he asks, still watching me. “We haven’t talked much since you and Brian split.”
“I didn’t think people were supposed to talk about their exes on dates.”
“We’re more than people. Besides, I really want to know.” He gathers our empty plates and sets them in the sink, then lifts his beer. “Shall we sit in the living room?”
“Sure.” I follow him to the couch, toe off my shoes, and sit, my feet pulled up under me. “I’m doing great. Brian and I are still friends. He’s a really great man, and he’ll always be my friend. I just shouldn’t be married to him.”
“Well, that’s a CliffsNotes version if I ever heard one.” He shakes his head and watches me, willing me to spill more, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.
“I’m glad that you’re okay.” Landon’s voice is soft. “You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.”
“What else is new with you?” he asks.
“Honestly, not much. With the business, I pretty much just work. Which sounds pathetic.”
“No, it sounds like you’re dedicated. So, you work and sleep?”
“That about sums it up.”
“Hmm,” he says, eyeing me with humor-filled eyes. “When was the last time you went to the movies?”
“It’s been a long time. But there’s a new one I wouldn’t mind seeing.”
We spend another hour talking about movies we’ve seen or want to see, laughing and just enjoying each other. I haven’t enjoyed myself so much with a man in . . . ever.
Even with my ex-husband, and that’s a sad state of affairs all on its own.
“I should take you home,” Landon says, looking at the time on his phone. “We both have to get up early for work.”
I keep my face neutral, but I’m a bit thrown. I was expecting him to try to seduce me, here on this couch.
But he stands and throws our empty beers away as I slide my feet back in my shoes, then escorts me to his car and drives me home.
I reach for the handle, but he stops me. “Date’s not over,” he says with a wink.
He walks just behind me to the door. I can feel his body heat in the cool winter evening, and I want to lean back against him.
Instead, I unlock the door and turn around to face him.
“I had a good time.”
“Me too.” He brushes his fingertips down my hairline, tucking a stray strand behind my ear, as he leans in and brushes his lips tenderly over mine. He grips my neck in his palm and proceeds to give me the sweetest, most gentle kiss of my life. “Good night.”
He backs away and I turn to open the door, but the next thing I know, I hear Landon whisper “Fuck it,” and I’m spun around and pushed against the still-closed door, and Landon’s hands are fisted in my hair and his lips are on mine. More urgently this time, licking and tasting me as if he’s been starving for me.
I grip his shoulders and hold on for dear life, praying this never ends. His lips are ridiculous. His touch is firm but reverent. And when he growls deep in his throat, I’m completely lost to him.
As the kiss slows, he whispers against my lips, “That’s the good kind.”
Finally, he eases back, brushes his nose over mine, and with a deep breath, turns and jogs down to his car.
I walk into my house in a fog. Did that just happen? I stare at the sunflowers on the sofa table and touch my lips with my fingertips. They’re still wet. I can still taste him.
It totally just happened.
I WAKE TO the smell of coffee. Which is impossible because I don’t even own a coffeemaker. I frown and throw an old T-shirt and yoga pants on and pad downstairs. Someone is moving about my kitchen.