Page 22 of Boats, Moats, & Root Beer Floats

She opened her mouth to say something, but Al rattled his tins. “You’re right. We need coffee.”

I blinked. “We’ve had coffee this whole time?” Lindy halted and twisted to stare at me. I had the impression the ghost did, too. “What?”

She let out a gust of a sigh. “Kitchen. Come on.”

This time around I let Lindy tow me about the castle. I checked the fire before we left the room but it had burned almost to ashes overnight. The moment we left the tower, the chill set in. I grabbed my coat and Lindy simply kept her rug.

Whatever works best.

It suited her, like everything she did. Lindy Watson didn’t concern herself with society’s prescriptive restrictions, casting them off to lead her life on her terms.

That was the sort of woman I could fall for hard and fast. Hell, I’d already started.

Telling myself the walk down the stairs would solve all problems with my back, I clambered after her through the castle like a lame puppy, trying not to wince when my bullshit mantra proved to be exactly that.

“And...coffee.” Lindy swept her arms in ata-daamotion as she unveiled a short tower of instant coffee in—you betcha—tins that sat slightly behind the cases of root beer in the pantry.

Yep, they were stacked.

One edged out a little but didn’t rattle as Lindy reached for it in her tiptoes and threatened the natural existence of everything in the vicinity with the rug she wrapped about her.

I reached over her head. “Let me save, uh, that for you,” I offered, grinning.

“Sure. You’re still milking the cow.”

“Whatever you want.” I shrugged.

She twisted in the small space between the pantry shelves where I loomed over her, still clutching the coffee tin. “Did you just agree with me?” she asked, peering up at me through her lashes with no small degree of suspicion.

“Maybe?” I stifled a smirk, but she batted at my chest anyway.

“Stop it.” Lindy waggled a finger in my face. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“So many things.”

She let out an exasperated sound that fell so far into the realm of cuteness I couldn’t help it. Catching her chin in my free hand, I muttered, “Al, out,” giving her just enough time to squint at me before I kissed her.

Really kissed her.

This wasn’t a graze of lips on lips, or anything innocent or sweet. This was three days of me holding back around a womanwho, in close confines was all things exhausting, stunning, frustrating and cute as fuck in varying degrees.

And the most creative and compassionate, quiet mind amongst her brand of chaos I’d ever met.

She was perfect.

My mouth crashed against hers in anything but a sweet kiss, warning her that if she responded or didn’t push me away, the ghost was likely to find himself banished from several rooms in the castle post haste.

I pulled back far enough to let her suck in a startled breath, placing the coffee tin carefully to the side. “Sorry. No, actually, I’m not, dammit?—”

She cut my rambling off by sliding a hand behind my neck and pulling me closer. The sheer determination mixed with vulnerability in her gaze nearly did me in. A groan left me as our mouths collided a second time and I knew I wouldn’t be pulling away from her hot, sweet taste anytime soon.

Her breath whispered against my lips as her courage failed, but that was alright; I had enough for both of us. Sliding my tongue across her bottom lip I tasted the sweetness of last night’s whiskey. That we never ate the night before at all hit me hard. I’d fallen into my own trap and not fed her. Which I would, and soon. But right now she was in my arms and I wasn’t letting her go for a while.

Her mouth parted, letting me in. A soft sound tore from her throat as I glided my tongue the length of hers, gathering her closer when she arched for me. Her body fit perfectly to mine as I knew she would when I was looking up at her yesterday as she fixed the garlands I mangled.

Lindy moaned when I kissed her harder, freeing her chin to tangle my fingers in her hair and holding her tight. My other hand gripped her waist beneath the blankets, and I slid a kneebetween her legs to push her up onto the benchtop beneath the shelves in the butler’s pantry.

Breath whooshed from her as her rump hit the flat surface. I used my knees to spread her legs, stepping between her thighs. The discarded blanket crumpled around her in a fluffy pool as I ground against her. Soft sounds poured from her throat into my mouth and I swallowed each that drove my arousal higher as she rubbed her body to mine.

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