Page 13 of Dirty Ginger

The world narrowed on him with each and every meaningful word that passed his mouth. The affection, the protection, the sheer helplessness, all affected her in a way she never anticipated feeling again. She became tangled in the safe energy he projected. The familiarly of having him close. She took in his simmering eyes with so much emotion in them she could barely breathe. The heat of his body, the strength of him, so close to her. His sculpted lips drew her in, closer and closer, until her hands fisted his T-shirt and her mouth met his.

Beckett stiffened. He did not return the kiss.

At the coldness against her mouth, she gasped and broke away, horror making her blood run cold. “Oh my God, Beckett, I’m so sorry.”

Only silence greeted her. Was he shaking?

His eyebrow slowly arched. “Did you do that to shut me up or because you wanted to kiss me?”

Heat crept over her face. “I don’t know why I did that.” She swallowed deeply, and then began rambling, “No that’s not true. I was just thinking how nice it felt to have someone protecting me and caring about me… and it seemed familiar and safe… and your mouth looked good…”

More silence descended. Until all the shock on Beckett’s face was swept away to reveal raw, unadulterated lust, an expression she hadn’t seen from him for a very long time. It occurred to her then she missed being looked at like that – with fierce hunger. Like no other woman compared to her. Like he didn’t care what hell he had to walk through to reach her, he’d do it time and time again. Like he was just the reckless kid that wanted something and didn’t care what the consequences cost him.

She wanted to be that person she was back then with him. The one who didn’t know what heartbreak felt like. The one who laughed often and believed anything was possible. She swallowed again, swearing her heart was beating loud enough for both of them to hear.

A beat.

Then a gasp ripped from her throat as he grabbed the front of her shirt and yanked her against the hard planes of his body. He did what she didn’t do. He finished the kiss.

A moment later, her back hit the beer tank, and Beckett wasted no time devouring her neck with his hot kisses. She pushed off his cowboy hat to run her hands through his hair, feeling her sane mind unravel at his passion. Her mind shut off and only her body was thinking now. Beckett’s touch was imprinted on her skin, reminding her of teenage freedom and wild affection.

“Ew, my eyes,” Maisie screamed.

Amelia broke away from Beckett with a loud gasp, snapping her eyes open, finding her sisters standing in the barn’s open double doors. Maisie was blinking rapidly, and Clara’s back was ramrod straight. Amelia stared at them for a second before they both turned and walked away.

Beckett chuckled proudly. But Amelia wasn’t laughing at what her sisters had caught her doing two weeks after she was dumped at the altar. “There is something wrong with me,” Amelia muttered. “Seriously, something wrong with me. I can’t believe I just kissed you like that. I’m sorry, Beckett. Please forgive me.”

Right as she raised her shaky hands to cover her face, Beckett grabbed her wrists. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he stated. The kiss he dropped on her mouth was indecent and the best kiss of her entire life. He gave her a panty-melting smirk. “Just to clarify, I’m not one bit sorry about that kiss.”

When he released her, she wobbled. Sure, back when they dated, Beckett had always known how to make her blush and kiss her just right, but this was a man’s kiss, not the kiss of a kid looking for some fun. This kiss had intent, power, and made her hunger to taste it again.

Before she could even think straight, he was striding past her sisters, giving them a simple hello like what they’d walked in on was everyday business.

Clara whirled around to Amelia, her eyes huge and mouth gaping open. She appeared to try to talk, but nothing was coming out.

Maisie gave a shit-eating grin. “If that’s not a spectacular welcome home, I don’t know what is.”

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