Page 56 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess

Talia narrowed her eyes. “That was hostile.”

“You’ve eaten half of it.”

“I’m contributing to portion control.”

I held the cheese near her mouth.

She leaned forward and took it from my fingers.

She brushed her lips over my skin.

I rested one hand on her bare thigh.

Talia tilted her head.

“You’re thinking again,” she said.

“I do that.”

“You become quiet in a specific way.”

“I’m usually quiet.”

“Not like this.”

I moved my thumb once against her thigh. “What do you want to know?”

“If having me here didn’t mean losing your freedom, what would you want?”

I glanced past her toward the main room.

Her handbag sat on the table beside my work folder. One of her gold bracelets rested near the sink because she’d removed it while helping with dinner.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“That isn’t true.”

“It’s the answer I can give you.”

Talia waited.

I wanted her things to remain where they were.

I wanted to leave for work and know she’d be at the cabin when I returned. I pictured her arguing with my refrigerator, asking questions at job sites, moving the pillow out of our way, and filling quiet rooms I’d built to hold one person.

I nearly asked her to stay. I didn’t know what I’d be asking her to give up.

“The town celebration is Saturday,” I said.

She tightened her grip on the edge of the counter.

“I know.”

“You bought the dress for it.”

“I bought the dress because it fit.”

“Do you want to go?”