It’s a silly thing to say, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. The first thing except for the truth.

Maybe what he lacks is a family.

The mere idea of verbalizing that to Cole terrifies me. What if he thinks I’m suggesting it—as in, Hey, we should be a family. Because I’m not suggesting that. Who would I be to think that he and I are on that level? It’s laughable. It’s ridiculous.

It’s impossible.

Cole grins. “I don’t think that’s the issue.”

“Have you had an interior designer look at it?”

His grin gets wider. “I haven’t. You think that will help?”

I shrug, my cheeks flushing. Stop talking before you think.

“Maybe I’ll give it a try,” he says.

“Great.”

He laughs and stands. “I probably need to get going.”

I scramble to my feet too. “Really? Why?”

He reaches for my hands. I place my palms against his. He pulls me closer—so close that our chests nearly touch.

Instantly, the vibe goes from slightly awkward to complete ease. He nestles his fingers together at the small of my back. The embrace, that really isn’t one, causes all tension to exit my body. In its place is a comfort and peace that I wish I could bottle up for later.

For when he’s gone.

For when I’m alone and needing to find this feeling that I’m afraid only comes with him.

“If I don’t leave now,” he says, his voice just above a whisper, “I’m going to have a hard time not kissing you.”

I grin. “So?”

“And if I start kissing you, I’ll want to touch you.”

“And?”

He kisses my forehead. His lips linger against my skin. I lean toward him, closing my eyes, and try to take his advice. Don’t let your thoughts turn into worries.

When he pulls away, I sigh.

“I have some calls to make early,” he says. “And you have work tomorrow, right?”

I nod.

He takes my hand in his again and leads me upstairs.

I’m not sure what I expected tonight, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t him leaving so soon—even though it’s not so soon. It’s already well after nine o’clock.

It’s just that the night was so perfect, and I hate to see it end.

We get to the door and Cole stops. He turns around.

His eyes sparkle as he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of my face. “You really like it here in Ohio, don’t you?”

My hands tremble as I loop my fingers in the waistband of his joggers.

I’m not sure what he’s asking me or why—and I’m afraid to think about it too much.

“Yeah,” I say. “My roots are here. This is my home.”

Cole nods, biting his lip. “Okay.”