Page 50 of That Kiss

“It already is.” He grabs my hand, stilling my movements. “Especially with the way I see guys look at you.”

“Is that jealousy rearing its ugly head?”

“Are you trying to make me jealous by not telling people?”

“No, I hope you know I wouldn’t do that.”

“I’d like to think you wouldn’t, and I know it’s probably my own insecurity talking, but I also have to hear the cowboys talk about which one gets to hit on you, or which one gets to shoot their shot.”

“Explains your reaction that night at the bar. Look, if it comes up again and they try to make a move on me or dance with me, then we’ll tell everyone. It’s not a big deal; I selfishly just want you all to myself.” I lie across his chest, his hand coming to rest against my back.

“I understand, baby. I won’t push it.”

“Can I talk to your dad yet?”

“Here are your two beers; that’ll be $14 even. Thanks for coming to Fall Fest.” I hand the beers over to the man in front of me, ignoring Decker.

“Keep the change.” He nods toward us with a smile and walks back to his wife.

I put the change in the tip jar and turn back to Decker. “Seriously?” I pull out my phone. “It’s been six hours since our conversation this morning. And if you’re wanting to ask my dad’s permission to date me or whatever, he’s going to laugh in your face at the suggestion that his daughter is his property.”

“First off,” he runs his hand over his beard and looks down at me, “I never said I was asking anyone’s permission when it came to you. I know damn well nobody on this earth could tell Juniper Riley what to do.” He grins and it makes a flurry of butterflies come to life in my belly. “Second, it’s not about asking him anything, it’s about the fact that our dads are friends with a great deal of respect for each other, and I want him to know I’m not just fucking around with you. With my past, I think I owe it to any dad—whose daughter I intend to marry—to explain that I’m not that man anymore.”

I didn’t expect his reason to be that deep. I thought it was about asking for my dad’s permission. “I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry.” Our fingers intertwine on their own, our bodies swaying closer toward each other.

“I mean it, honey. I’m not screwing this up again, and I want to do everything in my power to make it as easy on you as possible to forgive and trust me.” He brushes my hair behind my ear, an endearing move he’d done once or twice before he ever kissed me.

“I love when you do that.”

“This?” He does it again on the other side. “And what about when I do this?” He leans forward, his lips dusting mine.

I know that the idea of us hiding our love to keep it just between us is impossible. I can’t keep myself from touching him, from smiling at him, from stealing little moments like this. I press my hands against his shirt. “Do it again.”

“You know people can see us? I think it might be obvious with the way you’re looking at me that we’re a little more than friends.”

“I don’t care,” I whisper against his lips. “Kiss me again.”

The crash of an empty beer keg falling into another startles us apart.

“Sorry about that,” Bernice says, emerging from the back of the tent, “not as agile as I used to be.” She struggles to grab the keg that’s now rolling away.

“Got it!” Deck jumps into action, cleaning up the mess and pointing toward a wooden rocking chair at the front of the tent. “Go sit down and relax, Bernice. You’re always working too hard.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Her laugh is accompanied by a deep smoker’s cough. “I gotta keep moving so I can stay young. Find me husband number four.” She winks, jabbing me with her elbow. “Fight ya for him.”

My mouth falls open and I look from Bernice, who is rolling with laughter, to Decker, who just shakes his head. “You hear that?”

Bernice loops her arm through mine. “I’ve watched you two fall in love behind this bar, and it’s the cutest thing. Don’t act so surprised. You know the bartender always has the tea.” She winks at me, tearing up. “He’s a good man, Juney.”

“He’s an amazing man,” I say as she pulls me into a hug.

“It just makes me so happy to see you kids growing up and falling in love.” She pulls my hands up between us, squeezing them in her own. “You better invite me to the wedding.”

I laugh and assure her she’s getting ahead of herself, even though the two times Decker mentioned marrying me in the last 24 hours didn’t go unnoticed. It’s pretty much all I can focus on.

“Of course you’ll be there. Who else is going to lead the crowd in the conga line?”

I see why he wants to tell everyone. The way Bernice tearfully looks at us with so much happiness, it feels amazing to have others celebrate our love with us.

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