Free Hard to Hold (True Romance) by Julie Leto

so happy about it. He wanted to load the plates into her dishwasher, but as she hadn’t yet emptied the previous load and didn’t want to bother with such a production now, she insisted that he simply set them in hot, soapy water. He complied, but only after rinsing them nearly spotless.
    After that, he wiped down the coffee table and rinsed out the now-empty wine bottle for recycling. He might have dragged out her vacuum to do a light run around the living area if she hadn’t suggested that they take Sirus for a walk down to the nearby café, where they could sit outside and share a slice of cheesecake and espresso. The only sweet thing she seemed to have in her cupboard was a half-eaten sleeve of Chips Ahoy.
    “It’s kind of cold out,” he warned.
    Anne shrugged. “That’s what wool is for. Just give me a sec to bundle up.”
    She tore into her bedroom. For the first time in recent memory, she noticed how untidy it was. She had clothes on the floor, a bra bunched up on the side table and a week’s worth of water glasses lined up across the dresser. As she dug into her drawer to find clothes that were functionally warm and aesthetically attractive, she wondered what would happen if Mike ended up in here at some point. Would he kiss her again or clean up first?
    Not that she had any intention of inviting him into her bed so soon. They had not, as he’d pointed out, even had a real date yet. While Anne was a big fan of sex, she had to keep her eyes on the prize. Go-nowhere hookups were not her speed and Michael had the potential to be so much more. The fact that he’d shared something as important to him as a neurological disorder after they’d known each other for a short time implied that he saw her in the same light—as someone who might just go the distance.
    The thought made her knees wobbly, so she took a second to sit on her bed.
    Since before Anne had moved to New York from San Antonio, she’d known what she wanted—a guy in her life who would last a lifetime. She’d done the partying thing and the casual dating thing, but a serious relationship had remained elusive. Her gaze drifted to the second nightstand she’d bought.
    Maybe it wouldn’t be wasted space after all.
    Laughing at her sudden seriousness, Anne decided that over-thinking her interactions with Michael before they’d even had a first date was more than a little premature. The furthest ahead she needed to anticipate for was the next hour or two, so she dashed into the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She then tore off her sweater, put on a snug, long-sleeve shirt and layered a heavier sweater over it. She traded her comfy shoes for lined boots and grabbed her coat, hat, and gloves. Then, as a last thought, she snagged her favorite lip balm. She hoped Michael liked the flavor of honey.
    “Ready,” she announced.
    Mike was standing by the door, his hands buried deep in his pockets, and looking way more serious than a man about to eat cheesecake should.
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “Just wondering. About the Tourette’s. Does it bother you?”
    He’d risked a lot, setting such a disclosure on the table so early on. He’d either acted on impulse or out of deep courage, both of which gained her admiration.
    “Should it?”
    “It’s not something I ordinarily disclose so early in a—”
    He cut himself off, but Anne was good enough with words to know that the next one he was about to say was “relationship.” She was relieved that he kept that word to himself, but at the same time, the idea that this man already had the notion in his brain thrilled her.
    He leaned back against the door and held out his hand. She took it and with gentle slowness, he reeled her closer. An inch of space existed between them, but as his kiss had burned itself into her body’s memory after only a few brief seconds of contact, her mouth quivered.
    “I’m honored you told me,” she said. “But I know what it is, and I know what I’m getting