“Ask me.”
I couldn't breathe properly. Couldn't think past the way she was looking at me, eyes dark and certain.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Finally.” She pulled me down. “Yes.”
Her lips met mine, soft and sure, and every thought in my head scattered.
Rosie tasted like honey and sunshine, and her fingers tightened in my shirt like she was afraid I'd pull away. Not a chance. I cupped her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones, kissing her like I hadn't been thinking about this for days.
She made a small sound against my mouth and rose on her toes, pressing closer. Her hands slid up my chest to my shoulders, and when I deepened the kiss, she responded with an enthusiasm that made my knees go weak.
I pulled her closer. She pressed against me, and the small laugh she breathed into my mouth made me dizzy.
More.I wanted more of this, more of her, more of everything.
Her fingers threaded into my hair, tugging slightly, and I groaned against her lips. She smiled—I felt it—and kissed me harder.
A crash shattered the moment.
I jerked back, heart hammering.
A wooden crate lay overturned at my feet, kale and lettuce scattered across the pavement. My elbow had caught the edge when I'd pulled Rosie closer.
“Crap.” I dropped to my knees, gathering greens with hands that weren't quite steady.
“Cal, it's fine?—”
“I knocked over your inventory.” I grabbed a bunch of kale, inspecting the leaves. Still good. I set it carefully back in the crate.
“It's just kale.”
“It shouldn't go to waste.” Another bundle. The lettuce looked intact too. “I wasn't paying attention.”
“You were busy.” Her voice held something that made my hands pause. “I liked what you were busy doing.”
Heat flooded my face. I focused on collecting the last of the greens, arranging them in the crate with more care than necessary.
When I finally stood, brushing dirt from my knees, Rosie was watching me with this soft expression that made my chest tight.
“What?”
“You're so annoyingly helpful.” She shook her head, but she was smiling. “Even when you're the one who made the mess.”
“I should clean up after myself.”
“Most people would've just kicked the crate aside and kept kissing me.”
My pulse kicked. “Did you want me to keep kissing you?”
“Obviously.” She stepped closer, eyes bright. “But you had to be all responsible about the vegetables first.”
“They're your livelihood.”
“I know.” Her hand found mine. “That's what I—” She stopped, bit her lip. “That's what I like about you.”
Warmth settled in my chest.