Page 40 of The Charm of You

We meet in the middle again, pawing at each other before we even seal our connection. Kissing her harder than before, I dig my hands into her hips and spin us around, where I press her against the side of the car I was working on.

She arches into me, and her manic hands roam over my arms while her tongue explores my mouth like she’s unleashing years’ worth of pent-up tension.

My thumb brushes the exposed sliver of skin around her waist, and my blood fucking sears. I swear I hear a hiss similar to one a steak on a grill makes. As her moans become pleas for more, I lose my head. It’s as surprising as it is embarrassing how hungry I am to give her exactly what she wants.

I fist her hair as I bite her bottom lip, then massage the same swollen spot of flesh.

Mercilessly, I earn gasp after gasp. Whimper upon whimper. With each reward, my pants tighten, and I become someone else entirely.

I’m the man of the month Caroline Summers is kissing.

The door to the garage scrapes the cement as it opens, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Judd mumbling. It’s like I’m hearing his voice through water, and I can’t make sense of it.

Caroline jolts in my hold, and I lunge backward.

I peer at Judd, who’s frozen by the door, his eyes wider than when he found a scrape on his precious new car last month.

“Oh,” Caroline draws out as she flattens her palm against the side of the car. “I see what you mean about how smooth this is. Thank you for, um, showing me that. I’m in the market for a… smooth car.”

“Right.” I swipe at the corners of my lips as my brain short-circuits.

What the hell just happened?

chapter

twelve

CAROLINE

Maren sets a purple cup of hot coffee in front of me on the narrow counter. I stare a beat too long at the white sleeve around it, reading the Cream and Sugar logo across the front over and over.

My hand extends money on its own accord. It moves as if the limb doesn’t even belong to me. I think I hear her refuse, and I want to believe I say thank you, but my mind is spinning.

I drift past my friend’s coffee truck toward a picnic table, which is adorably tucked underneath a mossy oak. A few kids play on the playground nearby, where some of the parents chase them around. One woman has a Cocker Spaniel that’s basically walking her instead of the other way around, and a guy wearing a knee brace and headphones larger than his head jogs past her.

The echoes of a seemingly normal afternoon in the sun meander over to me as I sink onto the wooden bench. This day is anything but normal, though.

As I pop the top off my cup to cool my drink, I lose myself in the cinnamon aroma. I stare into the frothy milk covering the top like an oracle might peer into a well, waiting for it to give me answers as to what just happened with Austin.

The electricity of his tongue.

The feral way he bit my bottom lip.

His heated body flush against mine.

Our kiss was raw and full of passion. It was greedy and far from gentle. It’s something I’ve never experienced before.

I’m freaking putty right now.

How did this happen? One minute we were arguing, and the next, we were clawing at each other. When Judd walked in, I was mortified, which is why I ran out of there like the building was crumbling. I just left my car in the parking lot and bolted straight for the solace of Maren’s coffee truck. Since it’s located two streets over, it’s the perfect escape.

“Did you go to the gym this morning?” she asks, lowering herself onto the bench opposite from me.

I touch the back of my hand to my heated cheeks. “No. Why?”

“You look like Sable did yesterday when Old Gus mistook the ladies’ locker room as the men’s. I don’t know who of the two was more embarrassed.” Maren shakes her head.

I laugh nervously and sip my coffee, then lick the foam from my upper lip. As the fall breeze caresses my burning cheeks, I wiggle on my seat and ask, “What did you think of me in high school?”

---