“You didn’t chase me, though, did you?” she counters, glancing away from me.
"I can't stop thinking about you," I tell her. No games. No charm. Just the raw, aching truth of it. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried."
Her eyes glass over and her lips part.
“I can’t stop either,” she breathes out.
And I'm done.
I close the last inch between us and press my mouth to hers.
She tastes the same. Sweet and warm and just a little bit reckless, and the second our lips meet, her hands come off that wall and fist into the front of my shirt like she's been drowning and I'm the only thing keeping her above water.
I kiss her slow. Both hands pressed flat against the wall beside her head. I kiss her like I've been starving for it, because I have. I kiss her like I'm telling her something I don't have the words for yet. I keep my hands planted on that damn wall because I don’t have the restraint not to fuck her here.
Even I have my limits, and in my son's playroom on his birthday is one of them.
She makes a raspy sound against my mouth, and it almost takes my knees out from under me.
I deepen the kiss, and she lets me. Melts into me. Her fingers slide up my chest, curl around the back of my neck, and pull me closer, and I swear to God, every wall I've ever built starts to come down.
Every bit of willpower I have to keep my hands on the wall starts to fizzle.
The door flies open.
"Dad! Gary escaped again! He's eating the?—"
We break apart. Fast. But, not fast enough.
Wyatt stands in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Behind him, I can hear Ace yelling something about a goat and the birthday cake.
My son blinks at me. Then at Lola. Then back at me. And then he grins. "Are you kissing my friend?"
Lola makes a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a groan, her hand flying to cover her mouth, her face almost the same color of her hair.
I clear my throat. Straighten up and adjust my hat. "Go catch your goat, son."
He giggles and then erupts into full-blown hysterical giggles and takes off down the hall screaming, "UNCLE ACE! DADDY WAS KISSING THE FOOD LADY!"
Lola drops her head against the wall and closes her eyes. "Oh my God."
I look at her. Completely flushed and her lips swollen from my kiss. Her hand is still gripping the front of my shirt like she forgot to let go.
I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. "You and me ain't done, firefly. Not even close."
I kiss her again, and she moans into my mouth. Holy fuck. I need her. I need her more than the air I breathe. I pull back, searching her eyes.
This time, I’m going to do it properly. Like she deserves. And I don’t think I can let her go.
“I seem to make very questionable decisions when you’re around, cowboy,” she whispers.
I chuckle, watching as she bites down on her lip. “Ditto, city girl. Ditto.”
And then I tip my hat and walk out of that room before I do something I can't take back. But I'm smiling.
For the first time in a long time, I'm really fucking smiling.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE