Page 106 of The Charm of You

I can’t picture him enjoying a city like Atlanta, just as I can’t imagine living somewhere like New York City. Not that it’s something I need to consider.

Caroline is here now. We’re having fun with each other now.

Hell, I know good and well we’re way past simple fun, no matter how hard I’ve tried to fight it—and I have fucking tried.

But it doesn’t change the facts of our reality.

As I back away from Bernie, someone loops their arm through mine, shocking me out of my trance.

Caroline’s perfume soothes my sudden onslaught of doubts.

“Operation: Homecoming Chili Dinner is underway,” she says as she leans into me, her mouth near my cheek. “The ladies in charge are enjoying their own meal before everyone joins them after the game. They have Patsy Cline going, and as I was leaving, I think a poker war was breaking out.”

I grunt, picturing my mother and the other ladies of this town in their updos from weekly salon appointments gathering in our old cafeteria to play cards and gossip. I wouldn’t be surprised if Carol or Annabelle busted out a few cigars like mob bosses from the seventies.

“Our mothers are a hoot,” Caroline adds. “And inappropriate. I can’t believe the number of filthy jokes they can toss back and forth about chili and beans and spoons.”

“They sure do know how to have a good time.”

She bounces in front of me and pokes my chest. “If only you knew how…”

“I’m plenty of fun.” I level her with a narrow glare. “As you might recall, I made even a run-of-the-mill phone call fun.”

She tucks her chin onto her shoulder, and mischief swirls in her aqua eyes. “What else you got?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? And look”—I wave a hand over my black shirt—“I’m wearing our school colors.”

“You’re right. You’re totally letting loose. I almost didn’t recognize you with all the fun you’re exuding,” she says sarcastically.

“Exuding, huh?” I suppress a grin. “Is that the kind of big words they teach you in the city?”

“What city? Tonight, I’m just a Southern belle with a large, devilish appetite. Care to curb it?” She grabs my hands and steps between them into my embrace.

“I’m sure I can lend a hand,” I mumble against her parted, begging lips.

I succumb to the temptation and slant my mouth over hers in a slow, searing kiss, but it doesn’t last nearly as long as I’d like. She pulls back, her blue eyes dark with desire, and I groan.

“If we leave right now, I’ll lend both hands. What do you say?” I bargain.

“I think I’d like to keep you waiting.” She wiggles her eyebrows and leads me toward the concession stand, offering me the perfect view of her bouncing ass.

She changed into a dress similar to the one she wore in the parade—a black number that drives me wild, much like the first. Her shimmery gold blazer is a stark contrast to the dark color of her dress, as is her blonde hair, which cascades over her shoulders and down her back in silky waves.

The way her hair shined underneath the moonlight the other night in the back of my truck slams into me. She was so hot in my arms. Echoes of her dirty moans and satisfied cries fill my ears.

How am I supposed to survive this football game when my damn balls are turning bluer and bluer with every step we take toward the crowd?

Behind her in line, I discreetly adjust myself, but it still doesn’t help, especially since I accidentally brush my knuckles against her ass in the process.

The amused, all-knowing glance she tosses over her shoulder at me only worsens matters. In fact, it makes me want to spank her—something I still crave to do.

With Caroline, I imagine it’d be hot. It would be hot as hell to smack the good little princess on her ass cheek until it’s red.

I rub a hand over my face and tamp down such fantasies.

Caroline hooks her arm through mine again and walks next to me as we move up in line. “What are you thinking about?” she whispers, and I nearly lose the battle of squashing my dirty thoughts.

“Popcorn,” I clip through gritted teeth.

---