Page 48 of Adrift

I bring the marshmallow away from the flames—this time, managing to keep it golden but not blackened—and lean into Gage like I’m trying to prop him upright. “That’s so sad, Gage. I’m sorry.”

Gage just shrugs and clears his throat. “Beer was already winning over cider when they moved here. They knew the writing was on the wall. You can’t push a boulder uphill.”

I shake my head. “But you can wait until the customers get all the way over the mountain and pass you by, and then let go.”

“And kill them all?” Gage squints at me. “I’m worried about this business model.”

The corner of his lips twitches as I laugh. “The boulder is lightweight, like… a bubble. A rainbow, feel-good bubble.”

“I’m making cider, not unicorn farts.”

This time, I manage to lean backward so I don’t faceplant in the stove while I laugh my ass off.

He really deserves everything—and I wish I could give it to him. But all I can give him is… well, everything I have.

“Okay,” I tell him at last, now that I can breathe again. “Okay. I’ll work with you.”

Gage stops and stares at me, a slow grin forming on his face.

“Until the festival,” I add hastily. “I landed you in this mess. I’ll help you pull it off with more flying colours than a unicorn fart.”

But Gage doesn’t laugh. He just watches me with such an earnest expression that my chest aches all over again. “Really?”

“Really,” I promise, setting down my skewer to take one of his big hands in both of mine. “I’ve got you.”

Gage clears his throat. Then he does it again, and my throat goes tight as the world blurs a little around me. He sweeps me into a hug—so tight I almost can’t breathe.

And then he kisses me, soft and sweet and playful, until the tears are forgotten and we’re tumbling against each other, giggling like we’re on the inside of this perfect joke that nobody else will ever understand.

“You might be good at making messes, but I’m good at cleaning them up,” Gage tells me. “Besides, Mother Nature loves a mess.”

“I prefer to think of it as controlled chaos, thank you very much,” I tell him, raising my chin for a sassy little head tilt. “Not that I can be controlled.” I wink at him. “But I’ll let you boss me around sometimes, to balance things out.”

Nervous sparks of excitement rush through me as I wait for his reaction.

Gage’s eyes flash, dark and hungry. He lifts his chin and tilts his head to one side slightly, and then he reaches out to turn off the camp stove.

Then, Gage raises his last s’more to his lips and takes a slow, sensual bite. And I’m spellbound, my lips parted as I breathlessly watch gooey marshmallow and melted chocolate sliding down his fingertips.

He finishes his s’more, and without even saying a word, he raises his hand toward me. An invitation, but more than that… a command that I want to fall over myself to obey.

Holy fuck.

I sink back onto my heels and half-close my eyes, grabbing his wrist like he’s offering me the first drink of water after an endless desert.

And he might well be.

Finally, finally, finally…!

I’m dizzy with excitement, but I don’t want to rush. There’s too much on the line. Not just our present, but the past—and, more than that, the future.

So I slow myself down, slowly closing my lips around the tip of his index finger. I suck my cheeks in gently, swirling my tongue around his finger as I take it into my mouth a little at a time.

He twists his hand palm-up as I come back up and bob my head down again, and when I peek through my lashes, there’s the tiniest little smile on his lips.

I’m transfixed.

How is he so bloody hot?

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