Page 129 of Ripped & Shipped
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“How about you?” he asks.
“What about me?”
I flip on my side, so my arm splays across Chris’ chest and my bent leg is propped slightly over his. It makes it easier to see his face from this position—to look into his eyes.
“Are you feeling lucky to have me?” he asks.
“I’m feeling something,” I say with a note of mischief in my voice.
I reach up and stroke Chris’ beard.
His eyes heat with the touch. In an instant, I’m flipped onto the blanket and he’s the one half-hovering over me.
I squeal and smile up at Chris.
His eyes roam over my features and a predatory smile takes over that gorgeous face. The skin around his eyes crinkles with his grin. Then his mouth descends to mine. I expect a fierce kiss, full of hunger and passion. Instead, this is the most reverent, tender, careful caress of lips. His beard tickles my face just the slightest.
Our mouths connect, and Chris runs his hand through my hair and then cups his palm behind my head. I run my hands along his back, cataloging the muscles beneath his shirt. My fingers roam to his arm. More muscles ripple beneath my touch. We’re deepening the kiss, and like a fire that started as only a smolder, the intensity builds between us with licks of flames now. We lie there kissing, saying things we haven’t dared to speak aloud. Making promises we intend to keep. Sharing a secret meant only for the two of us.
When Chris pulls back, he runs his fingers through my hair, smoothing the wild strands that went haywire from our kiss. Then he gently runs his palm down my cheek, brushes his pointer finger along my hairline, rubs the pad of his thumb across my still sensitive lower lip.
He looks like he has so much to say to me. His eyes are full of thoughts. Maybe he’s as dumbfounded as I am. How did the two of us end up here—willingly?
I giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Us. We’re funny. You and me. The least likely pairing in all of Bordeaux. Probably all of Ohio.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “But then again, no. You just have to look a little deeper to see we’re meant to be. We just fit.”
Just when I think my heart can’t take anymore, he says something like that, and I feel like someone pumped me full of helium. I could float up and mingle with the stars if he weren’t hovering over me, leaning on his elbow, keeping me grounded in this truck bed.
CHAPTER43
Chris
“So,you sent the message and made it seem like it was from her?” I ask Aiden.
We’re standing around Aiden’s kitchen island. I’m looking over his shoulder at his laptop. Em’s with the kids on a playdate at Aiden’s sister’s. It’s just me and Aiden here—and their dog, goats, and that crazy llama.
“Yeah. I made it look like Ella Mae invited him to meet her at the Big Boy in Columbus. He jumped on that invite way too quickly. He’s eager. So, then I sent him a message.” Aiden pauses and opens the app on his computer. “Here. See it? I made it look like she’s asking him for a photo so she can identify him when he comes into the restaurant.”
Duke walks in Aiden’s front door. “Hey, broskis! What’s up? What are we working on here?”
He walks right up to us, and peers over Aiden’s other shoulder.
“Is that Ella Mae’s account?”
Confusion rightfully clouds his features. Why would Aiden and I be sitting alone in the kitchen looking at Ella Mae’s Instagram?
“Yeah,” I say.
Aiden gives me a questioning glance. I nod. We’re going to have to let Duke in on everything.
“So,” I say. “You know that guy who’s been lightly stalking Ella Mae for a few months?”
