Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1)

About anything and everything.

Two of us completely at ease. I’d asked her about her time in San Francisco and what it was like to work for a corporate accountant. She’d told me all about her best friend, Macy, that sweet softness in her expression when she’d talked about the girl who’d helped her out of her shell.

Of course, she’d been all too eager to know how Kale, Ollie, and I had first met, the girl laughing as I told her about the trouble we’d constantly gotten into as kids.

I’d wanted to tell her. Just lay it all out. But how could I expect to rein her with something that was so complicated when I still couldn’t figure out how I was feeling myself? When I still didn’t know how much I could give her when there was this antsy part of me that wanted to give her everything?

“Just a couple more minutes,” she told me with a smile from over her shoulder.

“You really are trying to ruin me, aren’t you, woman?”

She giggled. Fuck, that was cute, too. “How’s that?”

“I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“And what would that be?” Playing along, each of her words dripped with the sexy tease.

“Charming me with those pies and bewitching me with that body.”

“If that’s all it takes,” she said, tossing me a grin as she cut into the pie.

“You got more ammunition in your arsenal? Because you come at me any harder, I’m done for.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she slipped an angled spatula into the pie and pulled out a steaming sliver, quick to set it on a plate. She padded over to the freezer, grabbed a gallon of vanilla ice cream, and scooped a heaping pile of that on, too.

I could see it almost sizzle when it hit the pie, melting fast. My stomach growled in anticipation.

“Since you’re so impatient, this is still super hot, so it’s going to be more like cobbler.”

I grunted. “You can’t expect me to wait with something that smells that good.”

Redness heated her cheeks, this humble sweetness taking hold.

Damn, I really liked that. I liked that she was proud and brave and didn’t hesitate to say what was on her mind. Her pride came with this modesty that made me want to wrap her up and sing her every praise that could ever fall from my lips.

I was starting to believe she deserved every single one of them.

She was still smiling when she moved my direction. My mouth watered. Wasn’t sure if it was because I wanted to devour that pie or sink my teeth into those hips that swished back and forth.

Hypnotizing.

Stirring.

Inciting.

Fuck. This woman.

I leaned back in the chair when she came to stop at my side. Setting the plate down in front of me, she leaned close to my ear, her voice soft. “At least somebody appreciates my pie.”

My hand went out, palming one of those hips, voice turning sincere. “I won’t be the last. I promise you that. People are gonna flock to that diner in droves as soon as the word gets out.”

She cupped the side of my face, and my heart was doing that crazy thing again, speeding and knocking and thrumming.

“How do you make me feel like I can do anything?” she whispered.

“Know you can.” The words were gruff as my hand slid from her hip to her waist.

She let out a little yelp when I hoisted her onto the edge of the table, then she was giggling as she grabbed the fork and scooped up a bite, holding it up in front of my mouth. “What, you need me to feed you, too?”

For an answer, I cinched down on the outside of her thigh and tugged her closer. “Apparently, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“How about this?” She waved the fork in front of my face, teasing me, taunting me. I reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, opening wide and pulling it inside.

On all things holy.

It melted on my tongue, an explosion of tart and sweet.

“Good?” she asked. A sudden dash of insecurity threaded its way into her tone.

My approval rumbled around the fork as she slowly pulled it free. I chewed and swallowed, watching her face the whole time, her expression nervous as she waited for my reaction. “It’s perfect, Rynna. Perfect like I’m starting to believe you might be.”

Her delicate throat bobbed, her expression wistful when she glanced at the pie. “I’m not close to being perfect, Rex. I just want to do it justice. Make my gramma proud and find joy in it at the same time.”

A soft puff of laughter jetted from her lungs. “And sometimes it seems silly . . . how badly I want it. How much it means to me.”

I brushed my thumb across the top of her thigh, hand still clinging to the side of her, needing that connection. “You want all the good things, Rynna. There isn’t any shame in that.”