Page 28 of Once Upon a Boyband
Adam
“I’m notsure I made the smartest shoe decision this evening,” Laney says, glancing down at her feet.
We’re in the driveway at the rescue, and I can’t drive the four-by-four I usually use to get around because it has a flat tire I haven’t fixed yet.
“Want to just wait on the porch? I’ll bring Ringo to you,” I say.
Laney frowns and props her hands on her hips. “And see only one puppy when I could see eight?” She shakes her head, then takes hold of my arm, using me to steady herself as she reaches down and pulls off her shoes. “This will work. I’ll just walk barefoot.”
“You aren’t walking barefoot. It’s dark, and the grass is in need of a good mowing. You could step on a snake or a tick or get chigger bites.”
She holds up her shoes. “Um. These sandals would not protect me againstanyof those things.”
“Still. I don’t want you to get hurt.” I reach for her shoes and set them on the edge of the porch, then crouch down in front of her. “Jump on.”
“You’re going to piggyback me all the way to the barn?”
“It’s not that far.”
She huffs, but then she slips her hands onto my shoulders, and jumps. I catch her legs, adjusting until she’s comfortably on my hips, her feet dangling on either side. Her toenails are painted light blue, something I hadn’t noticed until right now.
“Are you dying?” she asks.
“Totally comfortable.” I head off toward the barn. Between the property’s floodlights and the moonlight overhead, I can see the grassy path easily enough, but I take it a little slower than normal anyway, just to be safe.
“You don’t have to pretend like I’m not heavy,” Laney says, her voice close to my ear. “The women in my family are built to last.”
I chuckle. “What does that mean?”
“It means we have dense bones. We’re quarter horses, not thoroughbreds.”
“I don’t know anything about horses, but I think I know what you mean?”
“My grandmother, my mom, both of my aunts, me and my sister—none of us have ever broken a bone. And doctors are always surprised by how much we weigh.”
I pause and shift Laney a little higher on my back. “That…explains a lot,” I say, pretending to strain.
She lets out a gasp and wiggles like she’s trying to get down, but I hold on tightly. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding, I promise! You don’t feel heavy at all.”
She leans forward, laughing as her arms circle a littlemore tightly around my neck. I catch the scent of honeysuckle on her hair, and it’s all I can do not to breathe in an obvious lungful of Laney-scented air.
“You’re very funny, Mr.—” She pauses. “Actually, it just occurred to me that I don’t know your last name.”
“It isn’t in my chart at your office?”
“Probably somewhere, but the main part just lists the rescue.”
I force myself to relax, to keep my movements steady as I cross the last few yards to the barn door. Driscoll isn’t a super unusual last name, so I’m not normally nervous about telling people what it is. But Laney is a Midnight Rush fan, and Deke was her favorite. I can’t be sure she won’t notice the commonality.
Not that it will mean anything. A lot of people have the last name Driscoll.
Then again, if she does make the connection, maybe this would be a good time to tell her the truth.
The thought almost makes me queasy.
Tonight has been good.So good.We’ve talked and joked and laughed, and the chemistry has been amazing. We click intellectually, which is possibly the sexiest thing about her, but the physical chemistry is intense too.
I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing her since dessert, when, like an idiot, I flung crème brûlée onto her face and then touched her lip to wipe it off. Her skin was soft, and her mouth parted the slightest bit at the contact and…yeah.It’s bad. And now, carrying her across the lawn, having so much ofhertouching so much ofmeis only making it worse.
