Page 246 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
I press my lips together. “It’s weird,” I say. “Accepting something I spent so long fighting.”
“I know.” His fingers trail until they find mine.
He lifts my hand and brings it to his mouth.
Reverent.
Unhurried.
Warm.
His lips brush slowly over my skin, deliberate and savoring each knuckle. “I’ll give them my T-shirt if you give them yours.”
My lips rise. “But you wearing this shirt really turns me on.”
“Imagine if it were off.”
I gasp, soft and small.
“Or if this Love Quilt were wrapped around our naked bodies, intertwined by the fireplace on a cool night?”
I swallow. “You’re very convincing.”
“Convincing enough to have a picnic with me in the gazebo and enjoy Meemaw’s cornbread?”
I slant a grin at him. “With extra honey.”
“All the honey.”
I shrug with a roll of my eyes. “I suppose you’re more of a sucker than I thought. Can’t even say no to a little food bribery. I’ll remember that.”
“You do that.” He leans down and brushes his lips over mine.
A soft, short graze before he leaves me wanting more to pack the picnic basket.
I exhale a breath before throwing the tablecloth over my shoulder and glaring at it for being an addition to a quilt I’ve always resisted.
“You trying to glare it into submission?” I love the smirk he sends me.
I tilt my chin up defiantly, letting a slow, sultry smile spread across my face. “If it doesn’t submit, maybe I’ll have to show it how I handle disobedience.”
His gaze flickers with heat. “Disobedience has never been so tempting.”
Neither has stripping off my clothes and letting him take me on this counter. And the look we share makes me briefly wonder if that’s in the cards for us.
Then he holds out his arm, elbow bent. “Ready?”
I’m ready for him to grasp my underarms and haul me into the counter and kiss me until I can’t breathe.
I’m ready for that.
But I loop my arm in his, and we walk outside.
The backyard is lush and alive, wrapped in tall plants and thick vines forming a natural wall, blocking out the neighbors. Towering greenery stretches upward, its leaves overlapping into a lush canopy.
“This garden has a whole vibe. Almost like we’re back in the country.” My eyes don’t know where to look, from the moss hanging off tree bark, to ferns clustered at their roots, and patches of clover.
“They took this Airbnb to a whole new level.” He tries to sound grumpy, but I can hear how impressed he is.
