She met Misty’s gaze. Her friend shot Savannah a bright, excited smile. Jamison popped to his feet. He was dressed in his shoes and his jacket, ready to hit the road. “Mr. Ian’s here, Mommy.”
And he ran through the kitchen to the back door.
“Hey, buddy.” Ian’s rich voice drifted into the house and jumbled Savannah’s stomach. “You look like you’re ready for ice cream.”
“Come see my puzzle.”
He was as excited to see Ian as Savannah. The fact that she’d seen him every day didn’t seem to diminish the thrill either. In fact, they seemed to have developed a silent method of communication. A look, a smile, a simple word or phrase conveyed mutual interest and pleasure over seeing each other.
Ian walked through the kitchen, his hand on Jamison’s head, his gaze on her son’s exuberant face. Savannah suddenly didn’t have anything to do with her hands and stuffed them in her back pockets.
He wore dark jeans, boots, an inky thermal beneath his parka. A day’s worth of stubble darkened his jaw, but his hair looked wet, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. The thought lit a spark beneath Savannah’s ribs. As he passed through her small kitchen, she was reminded of just how big he was—easily six two, easily two hundred pounds of muscle. The sight of this sexy man, in her house, willing to jump through hoops just to spend a couple of hours with her, kicked off a flurry of emotions—disbelief, gratitude, excitement. And again, fear.
But she’d taught herself a long time ago that if she didn’t face the fear and do what terrified her anyway, she’d never grow. Never escape. Never be free.
Ian grinned down at Jamison, his eyes glittering with joviality over her son’s excitement. In that moment, she felt herself fall a little in love with the man.
When he looked up, his gaze traveled over Savannah and his smile transitioned into something other than amusement. Something more like surprise edged with desire. Jamison grabbed his hand and tried to pull him toward the coffee table, but Ian didn’t seem to even hear him. He just stared at Savannah, his smile hot and wildly seductive.
“Wow,” he said while Jamison added traction to his grip on Ian’s hand. “You look great.”
She smiled. “Thanks. You too.”
“Come see,” Jamison said, undeterred by Ian’s distraction. “Aunt Misty helped me get the frame done.”
Ian smiled, amused by Jamison’s demands for attention. He finally sauntered through the living room, said hello to Misty, and stood over the coffee table, looking at Jamison’s puzzle. He dropped into a crouch and made suggestions for a few piece placements, letting Jamison revel in the thrill of making the connections himself. Savannah’s heart softened a little more.
Misty cleared her throat. When Savannah tore her gaze from Ian and Jamison to meet Misty’s gaze, she mouthed Yum with an expression as equally astonished as Savannah felt every time she saw the man. And that made her laugh.
Ian glanced over his shoulder with a grin that made Savannah’s knees weak. “What are you two giggling about?”
Savannah pressed her lips together and shook her head.
Misty sat on the edge of a chair and pulled on her snow boots. “I’m in the mood for a banana split. What about you, Jamison?”
“Watermelon sherbet,” he said, followed by both him and Misty saying at the same time, “with the candy seeds.”
While everyone readied themselves to go their separate ways according to plan, what-ifs tumbled through Savannah’s mind. What if this date was a major fail? What if they started a relationship but her infatuation fizzled? What if his interest faded? What if Hank became too much of a pain in the ass for Ian to deal with? What if she fell for him but he bailed on her? What if he cheated? Lied? Broke Jamison’s heart? Broke hers?
Misty stood and tossed her jacket around her shoulders, pushing her arms into the sleeves. “Don’t” was all she had to say to bring Savannah’s mind to a halt.
Savannah pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, clearing the negative thoughts from her head.
Ian pushed to his feet, turned, and gave Savannah a steady, reassuring smile. “Ready to do this?”
“Yeah!” Jamison was the first to yell, popping to his feet. “Misty’s going to show me her dad’s bubble machine.”
Ian lifted a brow. “Bubble machine?”
“My dad had a few screws loose,” Misty said. “He was a mostly amateur inventor. The farm is chock-full of the strangest gadgets. In honor of Jamison’s overnighter, I pulled his bub
ble machine from the barn and played with it until I got it working again.”
Savannah said her goodbyes and stood in the partially open doorway, waving, as Jamison and Misty climbed into Misty’s car. She felt Ian come up behind her. Hidden from the deputy’s sight, Ian ran his hand up Savannah’s back, under her hair, and gave her neck a gentle squeeze.
Every inch of her body reacted like he’d thrown an ON switch, lighting her up.
“You smell so good.” His murmur sounded soft in her ear just before he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The gesture was so sweet, her eyes fell closed, and her chest swelled. Savannah leaned back and found him there, a rock of stability and strength.