Page 16 of Wild Hearts

Grace shyly ducks her head, but it’s the truth, and I don’t see the point in hiding the erotic dreams she's starred in. She’s an attractive woman. Short. Curvy. A perfect handful.

“Um, I’ll take your word for it. Do you want to walk around some more?”

“Hell, yeah. How about we swing by Miss Patty’s booth? I can introduce you to Max's wife, Kendra.”

We head in that direction, and at one point, Kayla sees us, her mouth gaping open like a beached fish, but Grace doesn’t comment, so neither do I.

Our destination clears of guests when the family of five Kendra was talking to waves goodbye, leaving an opening for us to step up to the table.

“Well, look who decided to return. Are you planning on helping us pack up tonight, too?” Kendra asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope, I just wanted to introduce Grace and her dog, Shadow. They’re new in town, but they’re friends with Elsie Hawkins from the elementary school.”

Max jumps to his feet and offers Grace a hand to shake. “We've already met, but since you had a head injury at the time…” He shrugs sheepishly. “Max Linfield, Wes’s best friend since kindergarten, and this beautiful woman is my wife, Kendra. How do you know Wes? I don't think you mentioned it before.”

No one could ever accuse Max of being subtle. He cuts right to the chase.

“We met on my first day in town. One of my tires blew on the drive in, and he was kind enough to take care of it for me.”

“Was he now?” Max turns to me with a sly expression. The puzzle pieces are coming together for him. My fixation at The Ole Aces. Our run-in at Dusty’s. The bike accident. And now meeting at the carnival.

Kendra elbows him in the gut. “Welcome to Suitor’s Crossing. Have you been to the bridge yet?” The conversation continues from there as the women launch into the charm of the town’s legend.

Another hour passes before Grace yawns and bows out for the evening with a promise to plan a coffee date with Kendra. We walk to the edge of the park, away from the gravel parking lot of cars, so I ask, “Did you drive?”

“No, I biked. It’s locked up over there.” She points to a metal rack. Hers is the lone bicycle left.

“I’m gonna have to get you on a real bike soon.”

“I d-don’t know… I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”

That doesn’t surprise me.

Grace is a good girl.

Riding on the back of a Harley, clinging to a man with those soft hands of hers doesn’t fit that image.

“We need to change that,” I rasp, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, my hand lingering on her skin. Grace’s breathing hitches in her chest as her lashes flutter against her cheeks.

I’m going to kiss this woman.

I need to kiss this woman.

Swooping forward, our lips press together in a simple yet electric touch.

And my whole world is changed.

Because Grace is shy yet giving and so damn sweet it fucking hurts. My tongue teases her bottom lip until she allows me entry, and I groan at the slick heat of her mouth.

There’s a crack in my chest. A fissure opening beneath the weight of a thousand different emotions. It’s momentous. Terrifying.

All because of a kiss.

And I know I’m fucking screwed.

CHAPTER SEVEN

GRACE

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