Page 47 of Keeping You
A lump forms in my throat. “I'm trying.”
“Good.” A hint of her old self flickers through. “So… when’s the wedding?”
“Jesus.” I laugh, shaking my head. “We just started dating.”
She grins now, wide and carefree. “Kidding. Mostly. But seriously, Luke, don’t wait too long. You two have wasted enough time already.”
Her words become an echo as I walk her to her car, the stars just starting to appear in the night sky. The air feels sharp and alive, humming with something that has my blood pumping faster than it has in years.
My steps are easier than they’ve been in years. The guilt over Stu isn’t gone, probably never will be, but for the first time, I think I can carry it without buckling under the pressure.
Because now I know where I'm headed.
I’m taking Harper’s words to heart, and I'm not wasting another minute.
Chapter Fourteen
Callie
Midway through organizing books for next month's young adult reading circle, the familiar rumble of Luke's motorcycle can be heard approaching from down the street. I’ve stopped trying to suppress my happiness whenever I see or hear him.
The past few days have been nothing short of magical. When we’re not working, we’re together. When we do venture out of the safety of my little house, we’re inevitably spotted by Harper, by old classmates, by people who love nothing more than good gossip. Nikki is still a little wary, but that’s because she worries about me.
I sneak a glance in the hallway mirror, securing my ponytail and smoothing stray hairs. I know he doesn’t care if I’m picture-perfect, but the truth is, I want to look nice for him. Maybe because every time his eyes land on me, it feels like sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky.
A soft knock at the door startles me from my thoughts. I hurry to open it, and there he is, broad shoulders filling the frame, his uniform shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing just enough skin to make my mouth go dry. His hair is a little messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it all day, and there’sa shadow of stubble along his jaw that makes my fingers itch to touch it.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says in that sexy, low rumble that curls through me like a just stirred fire. His smile reaches his eyes, softening that sharp, chiseled face in a way that always knocks the breath out of me.
My voice is light, teasing, even though my pulse is hammering. I step back to let him in. “You know you don’t have to knock anymore, right?”
He doesn’t answer with words. He closes the door behind him, then in one smooth motion, slides an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him. His kiss starts slow, coaxing, before it deepens with a hunger that steals the air from my lungs. My fingers clutch at his shoulders, sliding up into his hair as heat blooms low in my belly.
When we finally part, I’m breathing like I just ran a mile.
“Maybe I want to give you time to change your mind about letting me in,” he murmurs, lips grazing mine.
“Never,” I manage, though it comes out embarrassingly breathy.
He chuckles, kissing me again, gentler this time, like punctuation to a thought. “I’ve been thinking about doing that all day.”
“Just that?” I tease, trailing my fingers along the back of his neck, playing with the short hairs there.
His eyes darken, and his fingers grip my hip. “Among other things.”
The thing between us burns hot, and for a second, I consider letting him carry me straight to the bedroom. But my practical side kicks in. Barely.
“Coffee?” I offer, stepping back before we end up on the floor in the entryway. “I just put the kettle on for tea, but I’ve got fresh coffee pods for the machine.”
“Sure.” He follows me into the kitchen, his presence filling the small space, grounding me and yet setting me completely off-balance at the same time.
I busy myself getting a coffee brewed for him while he leans against the counter, watching me like there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. That look makes my skin prickle and my breasts ache in the best possible way.
“How was your day?” I ask, reaching for the sugar.
“The usual.” His lips quirk in that crooked half-smirk that kills me every time. “Couple speeding tickets. Rescued Miss June’s cat, again.”
“My hero,” I say, fluttering my lashes dramatically, while he laughs a deep, rich sound that warms me all the way to my toes.
