She glances up at the elk head, then back at me, and her expression shifts to mock-serious. "Is it just me, or is that elk looking at us?"
"Yeah, he is," I say.
"Why is he looking at us?"
"Um, can’t you see he’s jealous of how much fun we’re having?”
She grins at me, and rests her hand on my forearm, casually, like she doesn't realize she's doing it. And her skin on mine is scorching.
We're closer than before. When did we get this close? I can count the freckles across the bridge of her nose. There aren't many—just a scatter. I want to press my lips to each one.
You don't get to want that, buddy. You're a liar in a small town bar, just wasting the time of a pretty young woman.
I should leave. I should close my tab and go back to the motel and be smart about this.
"So, Tom." She leans in close enough that her lips almost brush my ear, and every nerve ending in my body stands at attention. "You drive a truck?"
"I do."
"The backseat of your cab big enough for two?"
I pull back to look at her, just to make sure I heard her right. She's biting her bottom lip, and her cheeks are pink. She knowsexactlywhat she's asking.
She’s bold. Ilikebold. "What's a nice girl like you asking to get in the back seat of an old man’s truck for?”
"First of all, you're not old." She pokes me in the chest. "Second, I’m not agirl. And third, we've both been drinking and nobody's driving anywhere for a while.” She straightens up on her stool, chin lifted. "Also, for the record, I'm a black belt in karate. I can handle myself. Even after a few drinks.”
"Is that right?"
"Mm-hm. So if you try anything I don't want, I'll break your nose."
"Fair enough." I drop my voice. "You're welcome to tie my hands if it'll make you feel safer. So I behave."
Something hot and wild flashes in her eyes. "I'm not asking to go to your truck so you'llbehave."
The sound that comes out of my throat when I swallow is rough and cracked.
"Tab," I say to the bartender without looking away from her. "Close me out."
The parking lot is cool and smells of wood and gravel dust, and Kaylee walks beside me hands on my arm.
Every point of contact feels like a lit match. Her heels crunch on the gravel and she stumbles slightly on a loose stone, and my hand finds the small of her back to steady her. She leans into it, my palm burning where I'm touching her through the thin fabric of that dress.
I unlock the truck and open the door for her. She steps up and slides in first and I follow, pulling the door shut behind me.
The world shrinks to the size of this cab and us. The distant thump of country music comes from the bar, the parking lot light throwing a dim amber glow through the windows.
I can see her pulse fluttering in her throat as her hand comes up to my jaw…fingertips light, almost tentative, tracing the stubble there. She searches my face as if she's looking for a reason to stop, but when she doesn't find one she closes the distance.
Her sweet mouth presses against mine, and it's so fucking soft.
I let her lead. Her lips are warm and taste like those whiskey sours. She kisses me slowly, exploring, her fingers stroking along my neck. It's the gentlest thing anyone's done to me in years, and it almost breaks me.
Then she makes this sound—this tiny, wanting little hum against my mouth—and my restraint snaps like a dry branch.
I fist my hand in the back of her hair, tilting her head to change the angle, and I kiss her the way I've been thinking about kissing her for the last two hours. Deeply. Thoroughly.
My other hand finds her waist and pulls her closer, and she gasps into my mouth, grabbing the front of my shirt with both hands.