Page 21 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

He shrugs. “She tried to teach me piano, too, but I wasn’t the kind of boy who liked to sit still let alone stay inside.”

Farm boy.

We share a moment of silence.

“I like you, Jerry, but we need to take this slow.”Is that a warning to him or a reminder to myself?

Jerry nods and grips my waist with a gentle squeeze. “I can do that.” Goosebumps ripple over my skin like a swarm of bees. “You feel this, right?” he asks, his eyes soft, searching.

My insides melt.Lord, yes, I do.

“We’re as good as strangers.”

He clucks his tongue. “That’s easy fixed.”

“How?” It’s a stupid question, yet I ask.

His eyes darken and a smirk tickles his lips as he slides his hands to join at my lower back. “Just dance with me. Race me to the corner and back. I dunno. Spend time with me and maybe you’ll see me as more than a fr—”

“Friends don’t give me goosebumps.” I weave my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a rumble in his chest.

“Oh, sugar. Don’t I know it.” His arms tighten around my waist, pulling me into his hard body.

Beneath the muted streetlight, the giant willow tree whistling in the breeze, Jerry and I dance.

He spins me. We laugh. He sings along to the music, our bodies moving closer, in sync.

My heart opens just a crack, reminding me it’s still there, as shattered as it is.

I stare up into his dark eyes, his warmth, his moves grounding me, gifting me with a type of calm I haven’t experienced in a while, by simply being in his arms.

Heady from his scent, in the comfort of his embrace, I want more. My gaze falls to his lips as he opens his mouth.

“Liv, I—”

I smash my lips to his.

He tenses for a split second before his tongue licks at my lips, seeking entry.

The hint of whisky on his breath is like a splash of fuel to the fire burning within me.

His hold on me tightens. Something hard grows against my hip.Oh. Hello there, soldier.

With a grind of my hips against him, I revel in the way our bodies fit. It whips the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy, causing heat to pool in my lower belly.

When I claw at his shirt, I pull my lips from his, breathless.

His chest labours for air as he rests his forehead against mine. “Guessing we’ve surpassed strangers,” he whispers.

“Ha. Yeah.” I blow out a breath through pursed lips, trying to calm my raging hormones. “What were you going to say? Before?” I flatten my hands against his chest, the rounded curves of his pecs taunting my hands to explore further.

What the hell is wrong with me?

His chuckle is deep, rumbling against my fingers. “It’s a bit redundant now.”

“Why?”

“I was gonna say I was findin’ it real hard not to kiss you.”

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