Page 106 of Ripped & Shipped
“I like how you think.”
I actually grab three slices, since I promised Ella Mae two and I know she’ll hold me to it. We walk out front, right along the river. The lights of the city sparkle on the water. We eat our cake and talk about our day.
When Ella Mae finishes, I take her plate away from her and set it off to the side on a concrete half-wall that runs along the river.
She shivers a little. It’s not cold out here, but there’s an occasional breeze coming in over the water.
“Are you cold?” I ask, moving closer and looping my arm around her shoulder.
“Not cold, but that feels nice anyway.”
I need to kiss her. I can’t go one more minute looking at her in that dress, holding her in my arms, smelling her sweet citrus-cinnamon scent and not kiss her.
I look around. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.
“I think we’re being watched,” I say.
I don’t know if anyone’s watching us, and I don’t care. I also don’t give Ella Mae any time to confirm or deny my suspicions.
I bend in, twirling one of the tendrils of hair in my fingers. She looks up at me, anticipation written all over her face. I move closer.
“I’m going to kiss you, Ella Mae.”
“Yes, please,” she breathes out softly.
Never one to turn down a reasonable request, I move my mouth closer to hers. This may be a fake kiss, but my brain is not computing that fact. For my heart, this is the most real kiss of my life.
I put my hand behind Ella Mae’s neck and hold her to me while my lips move with hers. She lets out the softest sound from somewhere in her throat and I wonder how I’m still standing upright. She’s my undoing. Always has been, and with any luck, she always will be.
She places a hand on my chest, and for the briefest moment, I think she’s going to push me away, but she fists my tie and drags me toward herself. I put my other hand around her and pull her near, running my fingers in soft caresses over her lower back. She loops her other hand behind my head and runs her fingers through my hair.
We kiss for far longer than would be necessary to convince anyone we were dating. When Ella Mae pulls away, she has a bewildered look on her face. I’m not sure what I look like, but I feel my smile tugging at my cheeks.
“Okay. Well,” she says.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice husky from our kiss. “I’m pretty sure that convinced everyone we’re not faking.”
CHAPTER36
Ella Mae
“Did you have a nice weekend?”Chris asks me.
We’re a half-hour outside Cincinnati, on our way back to Bordeaux. My head’s been buried in my phone. It’s the third time he asked the question, but I’m partially acting oblivious. It’s true, I’m focused on my post. But I’m also trying to sort through my thoughts and feelings—which is not an easy task with Chris sitting less than three feet away from me in the cab of his truck.
That was the best kiss of my life.
It was probably the best kiss of anyone’s life. I mean, no offense to Liam Hemsworth and Miley Cyrus, Kim Kardashian and Kayne West, Angelina and Brad, or any other famous smoochers. Their kisses might have been special, hot, even newsworthy, but they weren’t life-changing, earth-shattering kisses. And that one last night—it was.
I think I’m having a hot flash just remembering the way Chris held me, the feel of our lips meeting, and the way he gently rubbed his fingers on my back.
I know we were putting on a show. And believe me, I’m all about giving people what they want to see. But I’m not a fool, and that kiss was for more than show. I think. And if it was more, what does that even mean?
Chris asks the question again. Bless him. I don’t want to make him mad by ignoring him. I just don’t know if there’s enough room in this truck for him, me, and the memory of that kiss.
“Did you have a nice weekend?”
I nod and hum, “Mm hmm,” while keeping my eyes super-duper focused on my phone.
