Page 47 of Stick Break
“I’m sully?” I bite back a laugh even though Rip looks mortified.
“I…think so.”
I laugh hard. Big Bear here has been bluffing his way through the most awkward ambush in romantic comedy history, and now he’s all flustered and red-faced and weirdly adorable.
I step up, rub his back in sympathy. “Aww, Rip.”
“It’s not funny,” he grumbles, but the way he’s hiding behind his hands suggests he knows it is.
“Oh, it’s hilarious,” I say, rising up on my toes to kiss him.
He blinks, startled. “What was that for?”
“In case she’s watching us from her window,” I whisper with a wink. “Just doing my part for the neighborhood surveillance committee.”
He groans. “Now she’s going to expect wedding updates. Like cake flavors. And venues. And color schemes.”
“You seem to know a lot about weddings.”
“I officiate them, remember?”
“Right.”
“God, what have I done?” He buries his face in his hands, and I swear I see a glimpse of the kind of troublemaker he must’ve been as a kid—charmingly reckless, always caught, never punished.
I gently tug his hands away. “It’s going to be okay,” I say, maybe trying to convince myself too. “We’ll go to dinner, bring a dish. I’ll sing a few songs, we’ll clap politely at old people’s potato salad, and we’ll come home. How bad can it be?”
Rip gives me a look like why would you even say that out loud.
As long as no one recognizes me, it should be okay. And while her granddaughter is into music, I can’t imagine she’d know who I was either. She’s seven. So unless she’s super into scandalous reality TV at bedtime, we’re golden.”
His shoulders slump and he gives a resigned sigh. “Okay, I guess you’re right.” I run my hands up his back and his muscles ripple. “Oh, and just so you know,” He adds. “I may have also told her we’d be…uh quiet. You know. When we have sex.”
I gasp, equal parts amused and horrified. “You did not.”
His sheepish little smile screams, I absolutely did. “Not in those words,” he admits, “But…yeah, kinda.” I shake my head slowly, like he’s just doomed both of us. “Rip. Rip. Rip. That’s unfortunate.”
He lifts a brow. “Why’s that.”
“Because now you’re going to miss out on me screaming your name.” I give him my most innocent smile. He does not take it well.
He growls, a deep, low, dangerous kind of growl that sends heat skittering through me. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
“You did this,” I remind him sweetly, turning to sit, but he catches me and pulls me back into his arms. I bump into his body and—oh, hello there. “You’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”
“I want you screaming my name, babe,” he says his voice gone gravelly.”
I shift slightly against him and feel the way his body responds. My pulse spikes with excitement.
But then…
I turn. “Did someone just clear their throat?”
Rip freezes as he looks past me. “Mrs. Callahan,” he whispers.
We both stare at her cottage, the curtain shifting ever so slightly. He shakes his head. “So much for bending you over that table and taking you right here.”
A shiver races through me as my mind conjures up the image of him doing just that. “Rip,” I push out, suddenly breathless.
