Page 32 of Meet Me in the Vines
“Audrey, wait up!” I shout.
She keeps walking, her pace not slowing for me. I jog next to her and match her stride.
“Where’s Noah?” I ask. She gives me the side-eye like she’s annoyed I’m invading her space. I mean, I kind of am, but that’s beside the point.
“He’s riding with Frank Bozer. They should be here any minute.” She throws her hair behind one shoulder. “Can you, like, not walk so close to me?” she says curtly while holding her palm up to put space between us.
I make a big show of moving my feet half an inch away, punctuating the gesture with a smile and a cocked eyebrow. I’ll try anything to hear her laugh again.
God, I dream about her laugh.
She scoffs and shakes her head, moving further away from me, keeping her eyes forward. I’ll take what I can get.
“So, how long are you in town for? Or…are you home for good now?” I ask.
Please say the latter.
“Pop and I are spreading Gran’s ashes on Sunday, then back home to New York the next day.”
Damn, my heart drops at her calling New York her home.
“You are home, Mou—Audrey,” I correct myself, not wanting to annoy her more than I already have. She keeps her head down at my comment. If she’s only going to be here for a few more days, then I need to man the fuck up.
I step in front of her and block her from rounding the corner to Sip & Savor. She stops in her tracks and crosses her arms, looking drop-dead gorgeous as she tilts her head and slightly pouts her lips.
“What are you doing, Donovan?” she sighs, running her fingers through her hair.
I hold out my hands for her to grab. She looks down, hesitant, but keeps her arms crossed. Stoic as ever.
“I want you to be surprised when we get to the front of the shop. Close your eyes. Please?” I beg softly. I give her my best puppy dog eyes, and a tiny smile forms on her lips.
She’s so fucking pretty.
She rolls her eyes before closing them, putting her hands in mine. A jolt of electricity zaps when we touch, fully charged. Her hands mold into mine like they were created for each other. A perfect fit.
I walk backward slowly, making sure I don’t eat shit and mess up this moment. She takes a wobbly step forward and laughs, biting her lip. I breathe out a chuckle with a beaming grin on my face. I’m glad her eyes are closed so she doesn’t see how stupid I look. Her laugh is the best sound in the world.
We get to the front of the shop and I stand behind her, adjusting her shoulders to face forward.
“Donovan, I know you’re dragging this out. Can I open my eyes now?” she asks impatiently. She sucks in a deep inhale through her nose and exhales while lulling her neck from side to side.
My arms snake around her waist from behind, and her breath hitches. I expect her to throw me off, but she doesn’t. I lean my chin on her shoulder and breathe in her sweet, floral skin.
“I hope you like what we did in there. You know, for Violet,” I murmur softly in her ear.
With her eyes still closed, she rests her hands on mine and lets me hold her, melting into my touch.
Let me just stay here a while longer.
“Open your eyes,” I whisper.
Her eyes flutter open and land on a framed black-and-white picture of Violet holding a glass of wine that rests on an easel by the door. She turns her head to face me with teary eyes, and I squeeze her tighter.
“Kerry took that picture of her one night at Siren’s Flask. He’s a photographer now. Violet loved happy hour with the boys,” I chuckle, basking in the good times we had when Violet and Mrs. Dickson would crash our boys’ nights at the bar. Her gaze stays fixed on the picture as she leans her head back on my chest. It takes everything in me to stop myself from kissing her.
“I love it. Thank you, Donovan.”
Anything for you, Mouse.
