Page 39 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

“Yeah.” His voice is deeper now. “Olive.”

I huff and feign annoyance. “You know it’s Liv.”

“Yeah, I know. And I’ll tell you somethin’ else for free.”

I search out his leg under the table and smooth my hand over his knee. “Yeah? What’s that?”

He swallows. “I’m hopin’ I get to take her for another spin later.”

The pub isn’t set up for dancing tonight. “There’s no music.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Don’t need it. All I need is you in my arms and the beatin’ of our hearts.”

I swallow hard. Jericho McAllister may be a man of few words, but those champion words melt my insides to goop. “Let’s get out of here.”

He simply nods, grabs my hand, and leads me out to his Ute.

And I know exactly where we’re going.

My place.

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