Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family #7)(40)

My mind is reeling, and I feel a huge wave of relief crashing over me. I take a few steps back, planning to hover around the back room for a minute or two, so Blake doesn't put two and two together. Unfortunately, Blake himself steps into the room.

He takes one glance at me and just knows.

"You listened." It isn't a question. I'm pretty sure he can read the relief on my face. I nod, keeping my gaze focused on the top button of his polo shirt.

"And you're avoiding my eyes because … ?"

I chance a glance upward. "Why did you turn her down?"

"Because I'm not interested." After a beat, he says, "You think I'd touch you the way I did on Saturday and then hook up with someone else?"

I can't find my voice so I just move my weight from one foot to the other, feeling like a fool. Blake closes the distance between us, raising one hand. He rests the pad of his thumb on my jawline, close to my earlobe. His other fingers go into my hair. He brings me closer, lowering his mouth to my ear. "I'm only interested in one woman. You." He feathers his lips on my cheek, sending all my senses into a tailspin.

"I feel a little silly," I admit. My voice is shaking with joy and relief.

"Don't." He kisses my temple, holding me close to him. "But I will need you to give me more credit than that." He hugs me even closer as I nod against his chest.

"I thought...maybe it was a one-time thing, and I didn't realize it."

"It wasn't a one-time thing. And just so we're clear, I don't want you just in my bed. I want you in my life."

"You're a sweet talker, Blake Bennett, and you're so good at it. Can you do it some more?"

Snuggling against him with my entire body, I soak in all of that goodness and warmth, and at the same time my fingers press into his back, feeling him up. I'm an excellent multitasker if I do say so myself.

"I mean it." He pushes me away a few inches so he can look down at me. I swear to God, I will melt right here in his arms. "I don't share, and I'd never ask you to either."



       
         
       
        

"Okay."

"So we're clear on this front?" His eyes are full of determination and heat.

"Yes."

He seals his mouth against mine and I sigh, bracing my hands on his strong arms. Something shifted between us just now, and it fills me with a giddy happiness, so I'm going to hold on to it.

"Go upstairs. I'm going to close here and prepare everything for tomorrow," he says when we pull apart.

"I'll help."

"Nah, you're tired."

"But I won't be able to sleep right now. I'm too wired." Being held in those strong arms of his while he tells me he wants me in his life will do that to me.

"Take a hot bath and relax."

I might have done that, if not for two things. One, I'm not ready yet to say good night. And two, his voice is commanding again. I forgot how much I like that.

"I told you before you're not the boss of me, Blake."

"You keep saying that. I'll have to prove the opposite."

Well, he's a terrible people reader if he can't tell this is exactly what I'm aiming for. I might have to spell it out for him, but then he might use it to his advantage, and who knows where that might get us?

"Go upstairs."

"Or what, will you boss me around some more?"

"You bet."

"What if I don't want to go upstairs?"

Blake leans in to me, brushing his lips on my forehead, then down my temple. He stops when his mouth is inches away from mine. "Then I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there."

"You're so hot when you're bossy," I admit. He frowns.

"You gave me shit for it at the ranch, and now."

Yep, I'll have to spell it out. "I was riling you up. Get with the program. By the way, can I make you jealous from time to time? Back at the ranch...you were so hot, all possessive."

He lets out a strangled groan. "You're killing me. Killing. And the answer is no unless you want me to kiss you right on the spot, staking my claim on you."

I grin. "But that's exactly what I'm going for."

***

Blake



I cup her head, kissing her hard. Then I take her hand and lead her to the back with determined strides. There is a small office there, which I never use. I prefer to work surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the bar, often just sitting at one of the bar tables to work on my laptop. The office is too small and private for my taste, but now I appreciate its existence very much.

Once inside, I lift Clara up, propping her ass on the small wooden desk, which makes a dubious sound like it might give in.