I thought he was going to kiss me again, but he kissed my forehead and whispered my name against my skin.
My fingers flexed into his solid chest as a low growl came from the back of his throat. “I’m not so sure about my next set of plans.”
I focused on my breathing so I could talk without seeming like I had just had a life-altering moment. “Why’s that?”
“It involves lying down on the quilts.”
I giggled as he moved his lips down my face, causing my entire body to spread with warmth. When he kissed my lips softly yet quickly, he took a step back.
I’d never had a man make me feel like this before. He oozed romance whether he thought he did or not. It was completely natural for him and that made all the difference in the world.
I placed my hands over my cheeks in an attempt to cool them. “We could . . . um . . . put the baskets between us? Although I would hope two grown, mature adults would have more self-control than that.”
He nodded. “I agree.”
“May I ask though why we’re laying down on them?”
Malcolm twisted his head, wondering if I was being serious or not. “To look at the stars as they come out.”
Oh. My. God. Is this guy for real?
I wanted desperately to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I did the next logical thing.
I spun around as I looked for the cameras. They had to be around there somewhere. What sick fucker is playing this cruel joke on me?
“Paislie, what are you doing?” Malcolm asked as I continued to look around.
“I’m looking around for the cameras. You know, for the people to jump out and yell something about how I’m on some reality show and I just got pranked.”
His face softened as he reached for my hand. “Nope. But I will tell you you’re giving my ego a huge boost.”
I couldn’t help but start laughing as he pulled me over to the quilts. “Lie down and look straight up.”
Doing as he said, I started to see the stars. “How pretty.”
Malcolm didn’t try to hold my hand or even lay near me . . . much to my disappointment. “Look at all the stars coming out the darker it gets,” I whispered. Why had I never done anything like this before?
“If you think this is amazing, you should see them at my ranch.”
I turned my head and asked, “In North Carolina?”
“Nope. Here in Texas. Right now my sister, Autumn, and her young daughter, Sophie, are living there. Her rotten, asshole fucker husband told her he didn’t want a family anymore and asked her leave.”
My stomach felt sick as I thought about Autumn and Sophie and how I knew what they were feeling. “He doesn’t want his daughter?”
“I said the same thing. What kind of fucker does that?”
I closed my eyes and barely said, “A monster.”
Malcolm sighed but kept looking up. “Tell me about you, Paislie. I don’t have the unfair advantage of Googling you and finding all the fun stuff out like you did.”
I bit down on my lip and smiled. “I’m pretty boring. Nothing really to tell.”
“Oh, no way. Spill it.”
I slowly took in a deep breath. I’d never told anyone about my childhood or the fact that I was raised in an orphanage.
No. One.
But with Malcolm, I felt the need to share everything with him and I couldn’t stop myself if I wanted to. “It’s really kind of a depressing story. One I’m sure you could totally do without hearing.”
He rolled over on his side and rested his head on his hand. When I glanced his way, I couldn’t help but notice how built he was. Damn. I bet he had rock-solid abs and a chest that would make me—
“I don’t think so. I want to hear it. Please.”
Dear God. Please give me the ability to not give in to my desires.
I looked back up at the sky and fixed my eyes on one single star and started talking before my brain could catch up with my silly heart.
“I was eight years old when my father left me at St. Patrick’s Orphanage. I wanted so badly for him to want me, but he never did.”
Malcolm’s hand took mine as I kept my eyes focused on the stars. “Your mom?”
Tears pooled in my eyes as I bit down hard on my inside cheek before speaking again. “She died when I was five.”
His hand squeezed mine. “I’m so sorry. Do you remember her?” A slow smile spread across my face as I thought of my only memory of her.
“I remember standing on a chair at the counter. It must have been Christmas because we were making cookies, and I remember pressing the cookie cutters into the dough. I can’t for the life of me remember what shape they were though.”
Malcolm ran his thumb over my hand and I couldn’t ignore the way it caused my skin to tingle. “Tell me what she looked like.”