Grin and Beard It(75)

“And you don’t want to be with someone who is world famous.” The words tasted bitter as they left my mouth.

“No, Sienna. That’s not it, either. Your fame doesn’t frighten me. Although, if I’m honest with myself, it was overwhelming when I saw it firsthand. The real issue is that I might be good at my job, but I’ll never be near as wildly successful at my job as you are with yours. And that’s fine by me. My ambitions aren’t career-oriented, they’re family-oriented. If I have wild success, and I hope I do, it’ll be as a husband and father, a brother and an uncle. It might not make a lot of sense to you, but I can’t start something, invest in someone, I know from the get-go is going to be temporary.”

I could only blink at him, trying my best to absorb his words.

Meanwhile, he shifted on his feet, his eyes darting over me and added, “I would want forever with you . . . or at least a shot at it.”

As he finished his speech, a soft, resigned smile hovering over his handsome lips and behind his eyes, I had one thought: Could he be any more amazing?

Really. I wanted to know. Could he?

I would want forever with you.

Oh my dear mother of all swoony sighs—this! So. Much. This.

Instead of asking him whether or not his amazing level was at maximum, and without giving his speech the responsible consideration it likely deserved, I allowed my melodramatic nomadic heart to veto all deliberations. “Okay.”

Because, honestly? Forever with Jethro, in this gorgeous house, in this secluded and beautiful part of the world sounded like perfection. It sounded like everything I never knew I wanted, but in this moment felt with absolute certainty was where I belonged.

It also might’ve been seasoned with a dash of escapism, but I pushed that inconvenient thought away.

“Okay.” He nodded once, as though things were settled. And yet, he looked a little sad. Why does he look sad?

“Okay,” I said again, closing the distance between us, my hands on my hips. When I reached Jethro, I pressed a kiss to his mouth, just a quick taste, because I couldn’t help myself. His lips were soft and hot and perfect. But I touched him nowhere else. It’s just . . . he had fantastic lips. My heart skipped back to my chest at the thought of this being the first of many kisses. “Let’s do this.”

His eyes were olive green today with gold flecks around the irises, and they looked confused. “Do what?”

“Let’s do this thing.” I pointed between the two of us. “Let’s do this not-temporary thing.”

He blinked. “What?”

I gestured to the house behind him. “I love your house. I’d like a tour. And if you have a sex dungeon, I’d like a chance to mentally prepare for the sex swing, but I can totally see raising our theoretical kids here. In case you haven’t noticed, I have birthing hips, so that’s a bonus. But you need a playground back here.” I gestured to the meadow with a flick of my wrist. “Also, I must warn you, at some point my abuela will pressure you into converting to Catholicism. And all our daughters will have a quinceañera, but we’ll cross those giant dresses when we come to them.”

The creases in his features smoothed while I spoke, and his stare adopted an edge of wonder. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.” I was.

And yet he appeared to be torn. “Sienna . . .”

“Jethro.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“No. I don’t, not yet. And you don’t know me. But you didn’t ask me to marry you. You asked that I not approach a relationship with you as something temporary. You asked for a shot at forever, and I’m asking for the same thing from you.”

His hands went to his hips. His eyes moved over my features like this might be the last time we’d be this close. “You’re a movie star. A celebrity with millions of fans.”

“And you’re a wildlife ranger who traps giant, dangerous black bears for a living and acts like it’s no big deal. Tell me that doesn’t sound like a heaping helping of crazy, with bizarre gravy, and a slice of mashed loco for Cocoa Puffs.”

His breathing and the teetering look in his gaze told me I almost had him. Almost. Something was holding him back. He just needed one more push . . .

“These stockings are thigh highs,” I abruptly announced. “Want to see?” Not waiting for his response, I took a step back and lifted my skirt, showing him where the tops of the stockings met my upper legs.

I glanced up to find Jethro’s eyes locked on my legs, his gaze growing hotter.

Excellent.

“And the panties match,” I volunteered, biting my bottom lip and drawing his darkened gaze back to mine.