Page 25 of Big Pitch Energy

“Yeah, I guess we should.”

We walked back to the truck, and he opened the passenger-side door and held my hand as I stepped inside, just like he did when he picked me up. The drive back was quiet, easy. I felt settled. The kind of calm that comes after a good laugh, a good walk, and a good night.

When he pulled into my driveway and shifted into park, the truck suddenly felt very small. He turned to me, the dashboard lights casting soft shadows across his face.

“Thanks for a great night, Hope.” His voice was lower than usual. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” I said softly.

“I'd really like to do this again sometime.”

“I'd like that too,” I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being.

Our eyes locked, and the world seemed to slow around us. Then Sam leaned across the console, slowly enough that I could have pulled away if I wanted to. I didn't want to.

The kiss was soft, slow. Not rushed, not uncertain, just…intentional. His hand slid up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing a lazy path along my skin. The kiss deepened slowly, gaining confidence, his lips warm and tender. I caught the subtle taste of cola and something else I couldn’t name, somethingthat was all him. When he finally pulled away, I blinked, dazed, suddenly aware I hadn’t taken a breath in what felt like forever.

“I should walk you to your door,” he murmured.

He stepped out of the truck, came around, and helped me out. The short walk up the path to my front porch felt electric. I fumbled with my keys, hyper-aware of his presence behind me. When I finally got the door unlocked, I turned to face him, my heart thudding in my chest.

“Would you like to come in for a drink?”

The words left my mouth before I could overthink them.

Sam's eyes darkened slightly.

“I'd love to, but it probably isn't a good idea.”

“Probably not,” I agreed, though part of me wanted to argue.

Then he stepped forward, closing the distance between us again. This time when he kissed me, there was nothing tentative about it. One of his hands slipped around my waist, pulling me against him while the other tangled in my hair. My back pressed against the door frame as our bodies aligned perfectly, chest to chest, hip to hip, and I could feel every inch of him solid, warm, there.

My hands slid up his chest, anchoring myself as his mouth moved against mine. There was more pressure this time. More need. The rough edge of his beard brushed against my cheek and jaw, sending shivers through me. My heart hammered as our bodies pressed together.

When his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened to him with a small sound that would have embarrassed me if I'd been capable of feeling anything beyond the sensations he was creating.

Time disappeared. There was only the taste of him, the scent of his cologne mingled with something earthy and male, the feel of his body against mine. When he finally pulled away, it felt like surfacing from underwater.

We stood there breathing heavily, foreheads touching. His eyes were darker than I'd ever seen them, pupils expanded so that only a thin ring of color remained.

“I should go,” he whispered. “Goodnight Hope.”

He brushed one more feather-light kiss across my lips before stepping back, breaking the connection between us except for his hand, which had slid down to intertwine with mine.

“I'll talk to you tomorrow?”

The question in his voice made my heart flip.

“Sounds good.”

That said, he nodded and as I watched him walk back to his truck, with the night air cooling my flushed skin, I knew something fundamental in my life had shifted. Whatever path I'd been on before tonight had just forked, and I'd chosen a direction that led straight to him.

The thought should have terrified me, but as I touched my fingertips to my still-tingling lips, all I felt was impatience for tomorrow to arrive.

Chapter Seven

Sam

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