Page 56 of Lucky Strike

In the living room, he attached the wall mounts for the floating shelf mantel. She took a seat on the rug, switching her phone to camera mode in order to take a picture. After Sam set the shelf in place he took stock of his work.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I love it.” Luna meant it. The mantel was a dark, natural wood color. The bottom portion was painted white, which was created from a small old bookshelf with the shelving removed. Wood was built onto the sides of the bookshelf in order to create the frame of the fireplace. She added the candles at the base of the bookshelf, lighting them to get the full effect. “It’s so beautiful.”

She took a picture, adding it to an Instagram post. “I need to come up with some good hashtags for this. Hashtag upcycle. Hashtag mood lighting. Hashtag home is where the hearth is.”

Sam took a seat beside her on the shag rug. “Do you hashtag everything in your life?”

“Yup,” she replied, enjoying his teasing. “Everything. Hashtag my hoodie. Hashtag sucker.”

He petted the cat who enjoyed rolling on her back and grabbing the man’s hand with her front paws. “You’re pretty weird. Ow!” After chomping a finger, Duchess sprinted into the bedroom.

“Pretty weird is still pretty so I’ll take it. Did she hurt you?” She inspected his hand for wounds.

“No, just squeezed a little too hard with teeth. You need to make sure she doesn’t knock these candles over and—”

“Start a fire. Yes, I know. This may surprise you, but I’ve owned candles before. But, you have to admit, it would be pretty cute to see a fireman carry her out around their shoulders.”

“And where are you in all of this? Would they rescue the cat first?”

“I don’t know. I just came up with this fantasy. Oh, maybe she can wear a little firefighter hat. Sam, it would be so adorable.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun thinking about our possible demise, especially since I’m right below you, which means the floor would probably collapse on top of me. But you’re right, let’s think about how cute the cat would look in a little firefighter hat. Hashtag kitty fireman. Hashtag dead Sam. There, I’ve done the hard part for you. You’re welcome.”

Luna laughed, pushing him playfully. “Now you’re getting it.”

Sam was funny. Not like a stand-up comedian, but it was more of the quiet kind, the kind no one expected and was able to sneak up on a person. His good sense of humor improved her opinion of him tenfold. She wasn’t sure why it had never been on her list of ideal boyfriend qualities before. Luna was changing this immediately, bumping it to spot number one.

She still held his hand in hers. Luna liked comparing her hand size with his. “Thank you for helping me achieve my fireplace dreams today.”

He lifted his gaze to her face, those warm brown eyes glowing in candlelight. “Your fake dreams?”

She smiled. “Fake fireplace. Real dreams. Not everything is fake.”

Sam’s eyes took in her outfit, including the familiar hoodie. “I kinda like the idea of you inside my clothes.”

She stole a glance at him from beneath lashes while biting back a smile. “I kinda like the idea of you laid out on my rug.”

His head tipped nearer, close enough it wouldn’t take any effort to meet.

She tilted her head closer, her breathing becoming light.

His eyes slowly scanned her face, focusing on her mouth before meeting her gaze again. “I’m not going to kiss you. I’ve already been burned before.”

Neither of them moved. Luna raised a hand, her knuckles tracing the line of his cheekbone as his eyes shuttered closed. “That’s fair. I was a rude, selfish brat then. This is me kissing you.”

She closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sam could haveresisted. He could have gotten up, walked out the door, and demonstrated his unwillingness to be Luna’s plaything.

He first drew nearer because there was something appealing about seeing her in his clothes. Also, the scent of his hoodie had changed. She had washed it, imprinting his garment with her own unique aroma. It was equal parts undistinguished floral mixed with something sweet like cotton candy. He wanted his hoodie if only to wrap himself in the smell of her when she wasn’t around.

When she pressed her lips to his, he didn’t react, didn’t kiss her in return. He let her work his lips with her own. But, like snow on a warm day, his resolve melted. Sam latched his hands to the nape of her neck, angling her closer, his tongue sliding into her parted mouth. The flavor of watermelon soaked into his taste buds. A satisfied moan vibrated from Luna, who removed his baseball hat before trailing fingers through his hair and clutching his T-shirt with one hand.

While the kissing continued on a hot and heavy path, he dragged down the zipper of the hoodie. Without breaking stride, Luna shrugged out of it, tossing the garment aside, before throwing her arms around his neck. That threw his balance off, causing her to pitch backwards to the floor and he caught himself on his forearms.

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