Page 18 of Hooked on a Feeling

Starr laughed. “But that doesn’t make sense. Grandpa always knew she played cards.”

“Don’t ask me. That was just what she’d said. It wasn’t her card day, and she’d snuck over there anyway. She was very relieved when I took the basket.”

“Grandma loved playing cards. That is one of the highlights I remember about her. That, and she loved being on the boat.”

“How did your parents end up being so…” John struggled to find a word that wouldn’t offend her. Hippie was on his tongue, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

“Hippies. That’s the word you’re looking for. Or free spirits, which seems to be the term that’s more in vogue these days. Regardless, they are hippies to the core. I don’t know how it happened. Dad moved to Colorado because Mom’s family was there. They lived out of a van for a while. They were van lifers before it was trendy. They just never really grew up. They are stuck in the party stage.”

She pushed back her plate, and John wanted so badly to lean over and kiss her. Even in a sketchy place like this. “My tacos weren’t bad. I hope they don’t make me sick.”

“You’re unbelievable. The place is fine.”

“Here’s your check. No rush.” The bartender took their empty plates, and Starr went to grab the check, but John scooped it up first.

“I’ll pay.” He double-checked the amount. “It’s a whole twenty-five dollars? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“That’s great. Two meals and two drinks.”

John didn’t add that the entire bill came to an amount a normal entree would cost him. He left a generous tip and stood. Starr stood at the same time, putting them practically chest to chest. He wanted to kiss her again. He knew he shouldn’t. Her hand went to his forearm, and she gave him a squeeze.

“Thanks for dinner.”

In response, he leaned over in that crowded and dingy bar and placed his lips on hers.

Chapter Eight

That kiss.

John had kissed her. Again.

And his second kiss was just as yummy as the first. She pressed a finger to her lips, loving the way she could still feel his mouth on hers. Were they going to keep kissing and pretend that she wasn’t leaving Emerald Port and wasn’t part of the Young family? Even if she stayed, there was no way she could ever show up at his parents’ house for Sunday dinner.

She would never be welcomed by his mom and dad.

But his lips were so intoxicating, it was hard to think straight around him. When his car slid into the marina parking lot and came to a stop, she faced him. “Would you like to come in for a drink?” Not for sex. Just a drink.

“I probably shouldn’t.”

“This is not a sex invite, John. Come on.” She got out and slammed the door, knowing that he would follow, based on his laughter.

“I probably shouldn’t have kissed you back there.” He caught up to her while she found her keys to unlock the door to the cottage. “Twice. Probably shouldn’t have done it either time.”

“Do you regret it?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Then stop making comments about it.” She pushed the door open, and they went inside. She grabbed two beers. “Here. A cheers to forging new friendships and trying to escape old family feuds.”

She clinked her bottle against his, and John looked around the house. He moved closer to the large portrait of a yacht on the far wall, and Starr couldn’t help but admire his physique. It was a brief moment in which she could appreciate his beauty—gawk—without him noticing. What would he feel like between her legs? The weight of him against her frame?

“This is my grandfather’s old ship.”

“What?” Starr stepped up to the picture. “How do you know?”

He pointed to an emblem on the side of the boat. Starboard Ships was printed above an image of a yacht. “Right here. But also because I remember it.”

“What does that mean? My grandfather bought a boat from Blue?”

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