Page 75 of Chasing Forever
“In the town square,” a woman mutters from the sidewalk as she walks by.
I glance past her. Mrs. Little, my third-grade teacher. She never liked me anyway.
I mutter the code for meal break into my radio. “Can I take you to dinner?”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
“Does it count as a date?”
I start rolling up the window. If she wants it to count, it counts. If she doesn’t, I’m still taking her out. I climb out, and she tilts her head to look at me.
“I think I’d term it an impromptu meeting,” I say.
She laughs and lets it slide. I love when she’s stubborn until she’s not.
“Put those cookies in your car, and then I’m taking you to The Sprout House.”
“Oh, yummy,” she says, unlocking the door to her SUV and doing just that.
My chest swells with satisfaction at her giddiness because I know she loves the chicken sandwich there, and I’m making her happy.
“How long is your dinner break?” she asks.
“An hour.”
She slides her arm through mine and curls her body against me. “We could do a lot of stuff in an hour.” She waggles her eyebrows.
I chuckle, but I don’t play back this time. I lean in a little. “Not tonight. I’m going to taste every inch of you the first time I have you naked.”
Her breath catches. Her body stiffens for half a second—then melts into mine again. And now all I can think about is her under me and moaning my name.
I could take her home now, but I don’t want our first time to be rushed. I don’t want her slipping back to her place afterward. I want her in my bed for the entire night. In the morning, I want her walking downstairs in my T-shirt, smirking over what I did to her the night before. Hell, I’d take her on the kitchen table. Maybe in the shower too.
“So, you’re good with this?” I ask, dragging myself out of the fantasy. If she only knew what I was picturing.
“What?”
“Walking with me. People knowing.” I nod at our surroundings.
“I think everyone already does know.” She looks around, noticing the lingering stares.
But none of them are mean. No whispers, no glares. Mostly smiles. Willowbrook loves gossip, but they enjoy a love story more.
“They know we’re married but not together.”
She laughs and leans her head on my shoulder. “The irony, right? I guess we’ll have to talk about that at some point. Do I only have so many days to change my name?”
Thinking about her sharing my name spurs a caveman response and it’s like she’s flipped a switch—I need to have her now. I groan and slide my hand into hers, tugging her faster down the sidewalk.
“Where are we going?” she asks, her steps trying to match mine.
I don’t even think. I just take her hand and lead her around the back of the buildings, cutting through the narrow walkway until we’re hidden in the alley. She follows without asking any questions.
The second we’re out of view, I press her against the brick wall and kiss her, all the desperation inside me that never gets enough of her coming through.
My mouth drops to her neck, to that spot just beneath her ear, and she gasps. My breath is ragged, and I don’t bother hiding how much I want her.
