Page 117 of Fire and Icing

He pulls back from our kiss first, running his hand down my hair and gazing into my eyes, a sated smile on his full lips.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For?” I smile up at him.

“Trusting me with your heart.”

I lean in and he holds me close. There aren’t words for what it feels like to be held by Dustin Reed. It’s like finding the safest place on earth and then realizing it’s yours for the having.

“Thank you,” I murmur into his chest.

“For what?” he asks.

“For being patient with me while I came to my senses.”

He pulls back just far enough so that he can still keep his arms around me, but we’re looking into one another’s eyes. “I want to take you on a date.”

“We’ve been …” I start to say we’ve been on a date, but then I realize we really haven’t.

“We’ve done this all backwards,” he says, holding my gaze. “Can I take you out? For real?”

Chapter 26

Dustin

Love is friendship that has caught fire.

~ Ann Landers

Emberleigh stares up at me,wide-eyed, but relaxed.

I never imagined we’d be here, in her gran’s kitchen in the middle of the night, her having just knocked on the basement door because she couldn’t wait to tell me she wanted to pursue something between us.

And that kiss? She surrendered. I felt the moment she released her hesitation and gave in.

It feels like the sweetest victory—a gift, one I’ll treasure forever.

“I’d take you out this weekend, but I have a thing,” I tell her in a soft voice.

Emberleigh’s relaxed, but knowing how quickly her brain can kick in, she might turn and run upstairs any minute if she feels rushed or pressured.

“Oh. No. That’s no problem. You don’t have to take me out.” She stiffens a little.

I run my fingers through her hair, keeping my other arm looped behind her back. Her eyes flutter shut, so I caress her hair again. She hums lightly.

“That feels nice.”

Her eyes open and she gazes up at me.

“I want to take you out,” I say. “But I also want you to come to this gig. I already planned to play this weekend. After the festival, a man approached me. Miles? Do you know him?”

“I do. He owns the Fork & Fiddle.”

“Yeah. Well, he wants me to play a set for him Saturday night. And I’d love it if you would come. I apologize in advance that I’ll be singing country music. I imagine I could throw in one Motown classic without causing too much of a fuss.”

“I’d love that.” She smiles up at me. I press into her back with the palm of my hand.

“That’s not the date, Firecracker. A date, by definition, is you and me without a crowd of people between us.”

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