Page 39 of This

“Let me know if anything changes.”

She nods, pulling back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She steps down onto the sidewalk before she pivots back around. “And I’ve already done recon. Ford said he and Lincoln are the only two going tomorrow night.”

I sigh out a, “Thank you,” to both her and the universe. No Bentley for at least one more family function.

Once her headlights disappear, I go to my room and finally turn on my phone. I check the messages I missed. Both Dane’s and Keaton’s relaying the information about his grandfather. He lost consciousness at the office. They called the ambulance, doctor ran tests, and he should be released in a few days.

The last text from Dane is from a few minutes ago.

Come back outside.

I smile and grab a hoodie from my bag. Joyce and Patrick are watching a movie in the family room. Neither shows interest as I walk past to the front door. They’re probably just grateful I’ve stopped crawling through windows at twenty-three.Growth.

The sweatshirt hangs past the bottom of my skirt when I pull it on, and I hide my hands in the baggy sleeves on my way off the porch. It takes a second to notice his truck, parked in the shadows a few houses down. I’m almost there when the driver’s door slams shut. Dane steps around the hood and into the yellow cast of a streetlight.

“You need to hurry up.”

“Youneed to learn patience.”

“I have plenty, just not when it comes to you.” He runs his hands over my hips when I reach him and kisses me hard. “See,” he mumbles. “No restraint.” But he finds some after he backs me to the truck. He jerks open the passenger door and picks me up to set me on the seat. “Scoot over.”

I slide toward the middle, and he crawls in.

“How’s your grandpa?”

“Shh,” he says, shutting the door. “He’ll be fine, but right now”—he moves closer and reaches past me for something—“we have business to take care of.”

When his hand reappears, he’s holding a cupcake with a single candle in the middle. I get one more kiss before hearing the flick of a lighter. He tosses it on the dash once the candle burns. The cab illuminates, shadows dancing across his face, and I smile.

“This is so—”

“Cheesy,” he says. “It’s disgustingly cheesy, and I’d hate myself for it if not for that fucking smile.”

I shake my head and touch his cheek. “Sweet. It’s so incredibly sweet.”

The stubble on his jaw scrapes against my skin as he turns to kiss my palm, eyes reflecting the flame when he looks at me again. “Happy birthday, Bennett.”

I lean in, and right as I blow out the candle, his gaze drops to my mouth. I have no idea what happens to my cupcake once the cab darkens. Dane’s mouth slams into mine, both of his hands tugging me over to him. He lifts me—not on top of him, but to the other side so that my shoulders press against the door—and he moves across to where I was a second ago, breaking his mouth away from me.

“What date are we on?” he asks. “Five? Six?”

“Does it matter?” I try to pull him closer, but he won’t budge from his spot in the center of the cab.

“I thought since you don’t fuck on the first date, you’d require at least half a dozen before spreading your legs for me in the truck.”

My feet are on the seat between us, and when his hand skims up from my ankle, I wait for it to reach my knee and drop it to the side. His gaze flashes to mine. “Sixth date it is.”

He doesn’t even slide my panties off, just tosses my legs over his shoulders and nudges the material over like both are in his way. But I guess they are. He dips his head between my thighs, and I hiss out a breath, his mouth grazing over me.

“Fuck,” I say.

“Yeah?” His eyes glint, staring up at me. “Tell me how you really feel.”

I press my lips together, taking it as a challenge, but my plan goes to hell the second his finger slips inside me. One, then another, and I moan. His tongue flicks, and I drop my head back on the window. I lift my hips, seeking more friction he gladly supplies. A screen door slams somewhere, but my mind is in a desire haze, not concerned we’re parked in a residential neighborhood while I grind against his face.

“Oh my God.” I whimper, grasping at his hair.

“Come on, Bennett.” His voice is raspy and pulses through me. “End your birthday right.”

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