Page 69 of Tangled Up

CARLY

Being in Beck’s arms is like standing at the top of a cliff, high above the clouds, and taking a deep breath… andflying.

It’s diving into the ocean after lying out in the hot sun all day and feeling the delicious release of heat from my skin. It’s the secret dream I’ve held so dear, the one I thought was impossible, coming true.

He looks at me with those deep blue eyes. He cups my cheeks in his warm hands and slides my tears away with his thumbs before kissing me with soft lips.

Threading my fingers in his hair, I rise onto my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. His arms circle my waist, and the noise of the festival fades away.

Last night we danced, and all the old feelings came rushing to the surface. When we were young, playing and laughing came so easy to us. When we were teens, he’d steal pansies from Mrs. Garvey’s yard and give them to me. This morning, he gave me a whole bouquet.

When I saw him tonight, I wasn’t sure what to think, but he rushed to me, pulling me into his arms, and making it clear to everyone he was mine. Then he promised…I’ll never hurt you again.

His face turns, and he kisses my cheek, tracing his lips down the side of my neck. “Will you come home with me tonight?”

Our eyes meet, and I want to say yes. Instead, I make a sad face. “I promised Aunt Viv I’d help her get all her stuff back to the house.”

“Okay.” He’s not pushing, but I’m a little sad. “I’ll come by first thing in the morning.”

We stroll along the sidewalk to where Aunt Viv is tearing down the church booth, putting away the knitted oven mitts and knife holders.

“Both of my blankets sold!” She’s happily stuffing the remaining items in a crate. “Almost everything sold except these novelty pieces.”

“Who carries a knife in yarn?” I lift the brown, knitted holster, and Beck shakes his head, chuckling.

I put the giant monkey he won for me in one of the empty crates and pause to look at him. He is so damn hot, it makes me dizzy.

“It’s a novelty item, Caroline.” My aunt takes the yarn sheath from me and stuffs it in the crate. “Someone bought my blanket, but they never came back to get it.”

“Oh, that was me.” Beck steps forward to retrieve the gray and navy blanket from under the table. “I paid the kid extra to hold it for me.”

Aunt Viv’s eyes widen. “You bought my blanket?”

She sounds like a lovesick teenager, and I’m not sure if I should laugh or tell her to back off. He’s mine. The thought stretches my grin even bigger, making my cheeks hurt.

“I thought it would go well in my room.” He holds it up and slides his hands over the knitted material. “It’s really good workmanship.”

I squint an eye at him, trying to figure out if he realizes what he’s doing. Aunt Viv is wrapped around his little finger, and he’s just smiling, holding her blanket like no big deal.

“Come on, Prince Charming.” I shake my head, taking his arm. “Would you carry these crates to the back of her wagon?”

My aunt didn’t bother driving her car. Nobody really drives in Eden unless absolutely necessary. Instead, she has a little red wagon with the white Radio Flyer logo on the side.

“Of course.” Beck picks up the plastic crates, and I pause to admire the flex of his muscles.

“This way.” Aunt Viv leads him down the path to where she left her cart, and I stay back at the table, gathering the plastic tablecloth into a roll and folding up the little table signs.

Most of the vendors have gone, and it’s growing darker and a bit chillier on this side of the pier. I pull a sweater out of my aunt’s bag at the back of the booth and slip it over my shoulders. I’ve just put the last of the items in the remaining box when a shuffling noise out near the breakers catches my attention.

Looking up, I think I catch a glint of orange disappearing into the sea oats. “Ollie? Is that you?”

Mr. Callahan’s cat is pretty much the community cat these days. He goes from house to house like a hobbit getting second breakfast and elevensies from whoever will feed him.

I smile, wrapping the sweater tighter around my waist as I scoot out from behind the table and skip across the path to where he seemed to have gone. I’ve just taken a few steps into the darkness when I hear a noise that isn’t a cat.

It sounds more like a human humming through heavy breathing. It sounds feral and wild, and the hair on the back of my neck rises.

“Is someone there?” I call, straining my eyes into the darkness.

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