The Delivery of Decor (Shiloh Ridge Ranch in Three Rivers #7) - Liz Isaacson Page 0,104
She twirled away from him, feeling lighter than she had in a long, long time.
Ward chuckled and hung back. Dot faced him again, and she wondered if it would be considered lame or stupid to tell him she loved him in a grocery store. She bit the words back, hoping the actions she’d exhibited in the past hour spoke enough for now.
“So we’re getting dinner here?” he asked, reaching down for a bagged salad.
“They have these great ready-to-eat meals,” she said. “Heat and eat.”
“Are we eating at your place?”
“I can do heat and eat, Ward,” she said, adding some sarcasm to her tone.
“I’ll be there to supervise.” He grinned at her. “Get what you want, sweetheart. Some of these look like they take an hour or so.”
Dot moved down the refrigerated unit to find her favorite one. “I love this chicken Picatta with wild rice and mushrooms.” She picked up two containers of it, because each one only had a single chicken breast in it. “Sound good?”
“Yep. I’m easy to please.”
Dot almost teased him that that was so far from the truth, but she held back those words too. She smiled at him, let him buy a salad to go with it, and they got out of the grocery store. Since they both had vehicles there, they had to drive separately to her house, and she realized she’d have to drive herself up to the ranch too.
“No,” she said as she pulled into her driveway. “Just ask if you can stay with him.” A smile bloomed through her whole body, and she ran into the house to get the oven preheating while Ward parked behind her.
She let him in the front door, and Dot’s nerves suddenly took over. He stepped past her to the kitchen counter and set down the food. “I like your place,” he said, turning back to her. “But you’ll come live with me on the ranch when we get married, right?”
He took her into his arms, shocking her with his words and his actions. Before she could answer, he bent his head closer and kissed her. This was a different kind of kiss than what he’d done in the parking lot. Different than what she’d felt at Small Plates. Different than any kiss they’d shared at the ranch, even the one before she’d left.
“I love you, Dot,” Ward whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, their breath mingling and his lips still so close. “I know it’s fast, and I used to care. I hope it doesn’t scare you, but I love you, and I think you should know.”
He kissed her again, and Dot knew. She felt the love of this amazing cowboy drifting through her, and she desperately wanted him to know she loved him too.
“I’m sorry I come off as arrogant,” he said, moving his lips to her neck. She clung to him. “I don’t mean to be demanding.” He pushed his hands through her hair. “I am going to fuss over you, Dorothy. I’m really good at it, and I can’t help doing it for the people I love.” He smiled at her. “Can you put up with me?”
“I can try,” she said, her throat so dry.
He chuckled and tried to step away from her. Dot increased her grip on his shoulders, drawing his attention back to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
“All right, then,” he said. “I accept your apology.”
“I’m sorry I drove away.”
“From the ranch?”
“From you,” she said. “You specifically.” She swallowed and told herself not to look away from him. “When I realized I was in love with you, I got behind the wheel of my car and drove as fast as I could to tell you. Then you weren’t there, and then we were at the store….” She reached up and traced her fingertips down the side of his face.
“You’re so good-looking, and you so know it.” She smiled at him, glad when the storm that had come into his face when she’d told him that previously didn’t arrive. “I like that you’re confident. I like that you demand high quality. I’m trying, Ward. I take my blood sugar all the time to make sure you won’t have to watch me go into a diabetic coma. I’m so sorry about that.”
Remorse moved through Dot, and Ward shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I’m an idiot for making it sound like it was.” He looked down and back up. “Forgive me for that, please.”