Page 67 of Small Town Frenzy
She licks her lips right after, as if she wants to taste me before it fades. “What was that for?”
“No reason. So it was a sultry night . . .”
“Relaxing for two days got boring, so we went out for dinner and dancing.” She chuckles to herself as if the memory evoked it. “I wanted to see the ocean and the stars and to cool off by getting out of that stuffy bar. So we left. I didn’t get twenty feet from the door before I saw a god among men walking down the street.”
“I like this story.”
“Thought you might,” she says, cracking a bigger smile for me.
Dragging my fingers over her arm and higher to herneck, I study the bluff of her jaw and trace along the edge. “Tell me more about this god among men.”
Her laughter is heartier this time, with no air of tension or rush to return to her home. She doesn’t even appear tired, not that I want to waste time sleeping. “Golden tan and wild locks of hair on top bleached from the sun as if he spent his days surfing and his nights sleeping under the moon.”
“I like him.”
Winning another laugh from her has me grinning like a victor on the podium stand. She leans closer, and whispers, “Me, too, but don’t tell him.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I murmur, and mime locking my lips and tossing the key behind me. “I think you left off after sleeping under the moon.”
Her chest rattles with laughter again. “Where would I be if you weren’t here to keep me on track when it comes to him?”
“He’s a fascinating man. Books should be written about him.”
“I heard there was a billboard once.”
Chuckling, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling of the porch, which is another project I mentally add to the endless to-do list of this house. “Ah. The infamous billboard.” Glancing at her, I ask, “How’d you know about that?”
“Word gets around these parts.”
I narrow my eyes at her, not sure that would be something she’d hear recently. “It’s old news.”
“It’s new news to me.” She reaches over and doodles on my arm. When I shift my gaze to the ceiling again, two of her fingers travel up my arm, then down onto my chest, where she scrapes her nails lightly across a spot before gently rubbing to soothe it. “Will you tell me about it?”
“The god among men was much more interesting.” I roll my head to the side and look into her eyes. I discover something new every time I see them. This time is no different, but it’s something I probably shouldn’t have noticed after what happened earlier between us—a future together. The subtle change in green, caught between the electric and the sage, settles in on softened marine that has me craving to dive into her again. I blink several times to clear this urgent pull I have to her as if we’ve become latched together and destiny is cranking the winch.
Draping my arm over my closed eyes, I start to realize how much I care what Cricket thinks, how much I love hearing her speak, the sound of her laughter, and how she looks at me. I realize how much I care about her.
Tethered . . .
“The moment I saw him, I knew he’d be the father of my kids?—”
“What?” I’m wide fucking awake and have been dropped right back the fuck into reality. “What do you mean you knew I’d be the father of your kids?”
Cackling, she wraps her arms over her stomach. “I thought I was losing you, so I thought I’d hook you back into the story.”
I relax on the exhale of a heavy breath. “I was here.”
“You sure?” A dose of sympathy echoes through her expression. “You looked like you either drifted off to sleep or your thoughts had wandered off.” Lifting onto her elbow, she says, “I can go if you want?”
Reaching over, I graze my hand across her shoulder. “No. I don’t want that at all. I’m listening.” I manage a smile despite the hurricane of emotions destroying any reasonable thought I might be having. It’s been a week, not even. I shouldn’t feel this strongly about her. It’s too soon.Too fast.
But a niggling at the back of my mind is quick to remind me that this is four years in the making. There’s nothing wrong with falling in love with the mother of my child.
Love . . .
Holy shit.
I’m thirty-fucking-five. Love isn’t something I’ve ever recklessly fallen into. With Cricket, though, I’m caught in her quicksand with no way to survive from going under. Shit. I swallow, the sound louder than intended. She glances at my throat and then higher, and asks, “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
