Page 316 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
I hold up a finger. “Dean was close. He guessed the Ferris wheel.”
“It was obviously a Ferris wheel.”
“No. He guessed making out at the top. Orgasm. Everything.”
Hart snorts. “He would.”
“Everyone called him a pervert.”
He scoops me around the waist, drawing me close to him. I love when he lifts me to where he’s entirely in control, toes grazing the ground.
“While our siblings are entertained trying to decode the book, we’ll be busy making sure we finish the second part of eachone. Secretly hiding away, disappearing long enough to have my way with you.”
“Yes, please.”
He chuckles. “Besides, it’s been kind of fun with them. I mean, it hasn’t been entirely unbearable.”
My eyes widen. “Is grumpy, growly Hart Wilde admitting to having a good time out in the hustle and bustle of life?”
“Absolutely.” His lips brush mine. “What about you? Are you okay with me inviting them? It’s your book too. Should’ve asked.”
“I don’t mind. I’ve had fun too.”
He gasps. “Is clipboard, follow the rules, stay on track, Jade Fox throwing caution to the wind, and letting her hair down—”
“No. I like my hair up.”
“Me too.” His hand slides down my ponytail. “Easier to grab.” He pulls my hair, tilting my head to kiss me.
“You kinky freak.”
“Takes one to know one.”
The guys stay behind after finishing the construction work, and the rest of the group arrives once our booths are closed for the night. Everyone chips in to get the tent ready for tomorrow night’s appreciation barbecue and dance. By the time the last bulb of lights blinks on, everyone’s sweaty and dusty from stomping around the grassy dirt all day.
“I can’t wait to rinse off.” Hannah wipes her face with a paper napkin as if that’s going to do anything.
“You have a little dirt here.” I swipe my chin and she mimics the action on herself, smearing it further.
“Better?”
“Got it,” I lie, tugging my messy ponytail tighter.
The thought immediately has my eyes finding Hart. The guy knows the right things to say to get my blood flowing.
He’s rolling up extension cords with his brother, sleeves pushed up, forearms smudged with dirt. And maybe I stare too long, because Hannah nudges me with her elbow. “You look about to seconds away from pouncing him.”
“It’s called eye-fucking.” Celi struts between us.
I slap her for being so vulgar, but I very well might have been eye-fucking him on repeat.
By the time we pack up the last of the extra supplies, it’s dark outside. It’s a quick drive to the campsite, and everyone scrambles for the RV’s showers.
“Wanna hit the campground bathhouse?” Hart asks.
I’d rather take a shower at the guesthouse, but we don’t have a vehicle to get there.
“Sure. I’ll grab my stuff.”
