Page 99 of Branded
“How about when I told you I wasn’t interested.”
He grinned, nipped my nose. “Still warm.”
“And when I ran from the party?”
A press of his mouth to mine. “Still warm.”
“And—”
A deeper kiss, tongue dipping in and tangling with mine.
“Baby,” I began when he pulled back. “I?—”
His eyes sparked with amusement, but he merely swiped a thumb across my lips and straightened, saying, “Oh hey, Mom.”
And I died.
Right there.
Just a little.
I had a drink in my hand—and one in my belly—and it made things slightly better.
At least with alcohol the memory of turning and seeing Smitty’s mom behind me, an indulgent smile on her face, had faded slightly.
My heart had still been racing, my legs shaking just the littlest bit, and then I’d had to introduce myself and make small talk until Smitty’s dad and brother had returned from parking the car.
Celeste had a broken foot, a cane, and a sense of humor that rivaled Smitty’s, joking that she’d break the other foot if it meant she’d get curbside service, and hearing that, seeing the easy smile that was like Smitty’s, the sparkling brown eyes that were so similar to her son’s, and the tension had eased inside me.
No spinning blades, whirling machetes slicing through me.
Just a bit of shy and following Smitty’s lead.
Which had been as it always was—patient and easy-going.
So, by the time his dad and brother came, the blades stayed sheathed, and I was able to stay relaxed…relatively anyway.
Ryan, Smitty’s dad, was a little quiet. Not standoffish, but seemingly just used to Smitty and Celeste dominating the conversation. Brandon, his brother, was quiet as well, but…he kind of gave me a weird vibe.
Like…there was some tension under the surface I couldn’t comprehend.
Nothing overt.
Nothing terrible.
Just…something that was rubbing and uncomfortable and might eventually cut through to the surface. And in the meantime, it was all just?—
There.
Barely-healed over.
“Here you go,” Julie said, sliding a plate of food in front of Celeste. “The daily special with tomato soup.” A shift of movement brought food to me (I’d laid off the cheese and gone for wings), and then the guys’ burgers were off the large tray Julie had perched on her shoulder and dispersed to their proper locations.
“Thanks, Jules,” I said, having gotten to know the server, at least a little bit, considering how often I’d been into CeCe’s.
The other woman smiled and gave me a sly high-five as she mouthed, “You got this.”
And so far, I had.
