Page 59 of Choosing Us

“And what do we have here?” she asks, pulling out a bag of chocolate chips.

“Well, apparently, I’m not very patient at letting my dough chill for cookies, so I thought you could show me a thing or two, then while it chills, I could return the favor,” I say over my shoulder as I grab the mixer from my butler’s pantry.

Her eyes dance with glee. “Sounds like an excellent plan to me.”

I’m a pretty good student and keep the flour spillage to a minimum while Harlow walks me through one of her favorite chocolate chip cookie recipes. She looks so domestic in my kitchen. In fact, she looks like she belongs.

“Now, the recipe calls for letting the dough chill for at least an hour, so…” Harlow looks at me and bites her lower lip.

“I have just the thing, but first…” I pause to reach over to my phone and bring up the playlist I made for this moment. As the guitar’s opening notes start playing from the built-in speakers, Harlow looks up to the ceiling before turning back to me as I walk toward her.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do since I saw you at Vivian and Walker’s wedding. What do you say, Lo? Do you want to dance with me?” I extend my hand to her as she lights up.

“I’d love to, Ryan.” She takes my hand, and I pull her into my arms. “Mmm. This is a nice song. I recognize the voice but not the song.”

“He’s one of my favorite country artists, and he’s such a talented songwriter, too.”

The song goes on to talk about the power of a woman’s love and how it can change your life, which makes me hold Harlow just a little tighter. I’ve heard this song before, but I’ve never felt it, not like this.

“Did you pick the song?” Harlow asks as she looks up at me.

A lyric about the strength of a woman’s love plays before I respond. “Yeah, I made the playlist.”

Harlow starts playing with the hair at the base of my neck, and as we slow dance in my kitchen, it’s the final nail in the coffin.

This woman owns me.

And I’m not even sure she realizes it.

“Ryan, I…”

“It’s okay, Harlow. If you need more time, this weekend can just be us being together. There’s no pressure here, I promise. I’m happy to be with you, whatever you want,” I sincerely plead for her to believe me, despite my own physical discomfort, but it’s no secret that I am extremely attractive to Harlow.

“No, it’s not that.” She looks away, and I realize I misread her. Is she … is she embarrassed?

“Hey, what’s going on? You can tell me anything.”

“I was just going to say … really, it’s silly.” She is blushing and I’m intrigued. I move one hand from her waist and brush a rogue strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

I don’t push. I just give her space.

She takes a deep breath and meets my gaze again. Good, I like when her eyes are on me.

“I was just going to say that … this sounds embarrassing now to say out loud … but I missed you this week.” She leans over and nuzzles into my chest. “I missed this and how good you always smell, and how safe you make me feel.”

“I don’t think there’s anything embarrassing about that, Lo. I think that sounds pretty fan-fucking-tastic to me.”

She shoots her head up in surprise to my response. “Really?”

“Yeah, baby, just means we are on the same page, because I feel exactly the same way—and I missed you in my arms just as much, if not more.”

“I make you feel safe, huh?” she whispers as she rises up to close the gap between us.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re a great shot, but it’s not a physical safety I’m talking about, Harlow.”

“No?”