Page 23 of Keeping It
“It’s not even a skill you have…yet,” I fire back, smiling. “You’re not a jump master.”
Tahoe’s hands slip down my waist and around to my ass. “Right now I want to show you a few of my other skills.”
“Kitchen demo? I hate to burst your bubble but I have that skill, too,” I tease. His gaze is fire as he watches my mouth while I speak. Wetting his lips, he swallows hard, his grip firm against my backside. “Not impressed with that,” I add, egging him on. “What else do you have for me? What skill?”
His eyes spark open wide, then he nods slowly. “Something you’ll never forget, Sunny.”
It’s a threat. One I willingly accept without offense. The sunlight has all but vanished since our conversation began and now there’s just the low light from a chandelier with two working bulbs. It’s easy to have more confidence than I should, in the dark, with his hands owning me the way they are right now, so I press my mouth to his. The response is immediate and real—the lighting of a fire that has never been here before. He pulls me into his lap and the bulge between his legs is so mountainous I inhale sharply.
“You’re feeling one of my skills right now,” Tahoe says, nuzzling his face into my neck.
The scruff on his cheeks and chin scrape against my neck.
“Isn’t that more of a gift than a skill?” I ask, my voice breaking. Caroline May doesn’t play games like this—she doesn’t play games at all. Against his lips, I steer away, “Why do you call me Sunny? You think I’m the sun? My sunny disposition?”
I feel his grin against my skin. “A touch more morbid than that,” he admits, bringing his hands up to hold my face in place as he works his mouth against mine for a beat or two. “The earth would die without the sun,” he growls, then looks me directly in the eye. “Sunny.”
I do die a little inside, right at this moment. At least the little girl with dreams of a man sweeping her off her feet swooned.
Tahoe groans, and pushes me out of his lap, with that look in his eye that turns my stomach upside down. Now that I understand what it means, I know I’ve seen it many times in the past month. Dozens of times, when I mistook it for irritation, or annoyance. It seems I’m as delusional and blind as my friends say I am.
A loud bang on the front door sends both of us across the room. Instinctively, he pushes me behind him with a straight arm before he opens the door with the other. “I saw your bikes when I was driving by. Just wanted to stop in,” Shirley says, peeking at me around Tahoe’s body. “What are you guys up to? Congratulations by the way,” Shirley says, focusing on him instead of me. “You have some big balls. Buying this place. Man!”
“Shirley,” I cry. “Stop it!”
Tahoe chuckles and opens the door wide enough for my friend to slip through. Shrugging, she says, “He does! Whether he knows it or not. Don’t be such a prude, Caroline,” she says, and then licks her lips. “I was congratulating him on purchasing another piece of Bronze Bay.”
He raises one brow. “Anotherpiece?” he asks, a half smirk pulling the corner of his mouth.
Shirley cranes her neck to look at me and lets her gaze float back to Tahoe. “Yeah,” she replies.
“Oh, my God! I’m right here!” Suddenly, I don’t want Shirley meddling in my love life, or lack thereof. “Humans can’t be purchased!” I shout, throwing my hands up.
Tahoe’s smile fades to something more somber. “They are, though.” He runs a hand through his hair, the tattoos under his biceps peek from his shirt.
Shirley and I both look at him, with what I’m sure is the standard, horrified expression. I’m reminded of what he is. What he’s capable of.
“I closed with your mama tonight. She mentioned you two are having dinner up on the hill tomorrow,” Shirley says, doing her best impression of me, trying to wield the power of the southern topic change.
I’m still thinking about what it is Tahoe does when he’s working—the things he’s been exposed to that I have no clue about. He responds to Shirley’s statement by making a joke about the house on the hill, and confirms the plans. I wasn’t nervous about the dinner. Not until now. What if they ask him what he does? Will he answer in generic code words to hide the truth?
They continue to talk and I don’t chime in until I hear a lull in conversation. “You going to the spot tonight?” Sometimes they have parties on weekday nights if the weather is nice.
“Yeah,” Shirley replies, picking at her fingernail polish. “Caleb was pretty pissed tonight so I asked if he wanted to go with.” She meets my eyes, and I understand why he’s pissed.
“Oh,” I reply, swallowing hard. “I was just about to head home. We were finishing up,” I explain, motioning to the kitchen. “Deciding what should happen in there.”
“They still got the ugly olive appliances?” Shirley asks.
Tahoe sighs, nodding. “Yep. Pepto Bismal tile in the bathroom, too.”
“Caroline can give you the heads up with all of the local stores. The appliance store downtown doesn’t have much of a selection, but he can order most anything you want. Everyone ordering stuff online these days really is a buzzkill for stores like that,” she explains. “Making peace after buying a portion of town history is a good choice.” Holding a hand out with a takeout bag. “Dessert.” Shirley thrusts the bag into my hand.
Narrowing my eyes, I examine the bag. “Oh, I saw your bike and decided to stop in,” I mock. “You’re such a liar. I knew better, Shirley.”
She laughs. “Fine, you caught me, but I did come bearing gifts.” I peek in the bag to find two slices of my mama’s famous peach pie. “I’ll see you later, Care.” She glances at Tahoe, and instead of bidding him farewell, she growls like a tiger, a throaty, embarrassing noise.
Closing the door behind her, I spin on Tahoe. He’s ready for me, hands on his hips. “Don’t beat around the bush,” he says, tilting his head to one side. “Give it to me.”
