Swaying into him, she didn’t want the kiss to end. She wanted to lose herself in him, and the memory of all the happy times they’d shared. She’d lost her virginity to him. She’d loved him with the sweet hopefulness of youth, embroidering a future for them in her mind that had been based on wishful thinking more than practical reality.
It hadn’t worked. But she could look back and admit that it had been special. Meaningful. The heart-wrenching end didn’t negate all the good things that came before.
His arms banded tighter as he deepened the kiss, taking the contact from passionate to sizzling, lighting a new fire inside her. And while it would be delicious to burn in that kind of flame, she knew it wasn’t fair to either of them.
Already regretting what she needed to do, she eased away from him slowly. Her lips felt swollen and full from the contact. Her body hyper aware of his. With an effort, she pried her eyes open to see him staring down at her, his breath coming as fast as if he’d just rounded the bases and beaten a throw home.
“I don’t know where that came from.” She’d been the one to initiate the kiss. She took responsibility for crossing that line. “But it was every bit as fun as I remembered.”
His smile made her heart turn a little flip, reminding her that romantic chemistry wasn’t always about kissing. Sometimes the most potent connections were moments like this one. A shared memory. A history that bound them together long after they’d split up.
“Better. And I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the moment I saw you arranging flowers in the barn last week.” His fingers flexed lightly against her hip where he still held her.
For that matter, her hands still rested on his upper arms, fingers stroking the fabric of his gray tee.
“It’s probably not wise to indulge those feelings though.” She forced herself to let go of him. To untwine herself the rest of the way.
Her heel sank into the soft earth behind her, her world off-kilter.
“Says who?” He reached for her, the heat of his gaze caressing her even before his touch. “We’re not hurting anybody since I’m not seeing anyone else right now. And I don’t get the impression you’re dating either.”
“No. I never would have kissed you if I’d been—” She didn’t finish the sentence because he knew that about her.
They’d hurt each other plenty of ways, but not like that. She’d seen firsthand how devastated he’d been by his father’s faithlessness to his mom.
“So the invitation is open if the need to kiss strikes again,” he assured her, his words recalling those breathless moments in his arms. Making her want to recreate them. “But for now, why don’t you show me the rest of the farm and we’ll figure out what’s happening between us later? Preferably over dinner.”
“Like a date?” She tossed the question out there more to stall than anything else. She needed a few moments to gather her thoughts. And more importantly to resurrect defenses fast if Nate got any ideas about spending more time together. Because spending more time with him tempted her.
“We’ll both have to eat eventually,” he pointed out with a shrug, his roguish smile far from casual.
She opened her mouth to argue, but then snapped it shut again, knowing they’d need to talk about the sparks flying between them sooner or later. And while dinner sounded too romantic by half, she also understood that Nate would be out of her life again before she knew it. Once his hand healed a bit more, he’d be back on the road with his team or working on a rehab assignment in Triple A.
A single shared meal couldn’t hurt. If anything, maybe she’d be able to put him and what they’d share in the past for good this time.
That’s why she was probably going to agree.
It didn’t have a damned thing to do with wanting to feel his lips on hers just once more.
*
“More corn bread?”Nate asked her later that night as they shared a picnic table in the shade next to the local dance hall.
Keely shook her head, her hair curling into spirals around her face in the warm air. She wore a gauzy white tunic and denim skirt with silver-studded sandals and big hoop earrings, pretty extras that he would bet she hadn’t reached for in a while. As it was, he’d had a hard time convincing her to go out tonight, and suspected her reluctance had more to do with worries about her dad being alone than any real hesitation about spending time with Nate. At least they’d agreed on a plan to temporarily solve the dispute between her and Everett. She would allow him to plant tomatoes in two smaller patches on her land while he gave her permission to let the sunflowers reach maturity on his ground. At his grandfather’s urging, Nate planned to oversee the tomato planting himself.
Somehow, Nate had gotten Keely to agree to a shared meal to discuss the particulars. Now, as they sat in the picnic area crowded with young families and couples listening to the country band on stage inside the venue, he watched her sip her bottled water as her shoulders swayed to the steel guitar. Around their picnic table, a couple of preschoolers pushed toy dump trucks around the small white stones that covered the ground in the fenced-in eating area. The trees here were strewn with white lights year-round to create an outdoor space. The music was almost as loud out here thanks to the wall of windows that circled historic Hickory Hall. With the wooden shutters all latched up, only screens separated them from people dancing and shooting pool inside.
“I can’t eat another bite,” she announced, setting aside her napkin. “That was delicious.”
“The Hut delivers once again.” He’d missed visiting Hutchinson’s BBQ Market when he was away from Last Stand. The place boasted that they used post oak in their pits when they were making their barbecue. Whatever they did, it yielded the best ribs he’d ever eaten anywhere.
He’d picked up the to-go meal with Keely, then brought it in to the Hickory Hall picnic area, hoping the casual vibe of the outing would make it easier for her to relax and enjoy the date. He still couldn’t quite believe he was sitting across from her after all this time. That kiss had been on his mind every second of the day since she’d stunned him with it this morning.
After how hard she’d pushed him away five years ago—and how surly she’d been earlier this week about having him back in town—it had surprised him to realize how much emotion still ran beneath the surface.
“Do you ever cook while you’re on the road or do you eat out all the time?” she asked, sliding her plate into the empty paper bag from the restaurant.
“I haven’t had access to a kitchen since I moved to Houston,” he admitted, polishing off the last bite of his corn bread before adding his plate to the bag. “I’ve been living in a hotel ever since the call-up.”