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“Thank you,” I said primly, straightening my dress over my thighs.
He raised his glass, touched it to mine. We took a sip.
“So,” I started, “is there an occasion we’re celebrating? Or did you just want to tease me with forbidden dairy?”
“No occasion. I knew we’d be out here with the tractor, and I thought you’d like a picnic.”
“Enough to Pinterest it.” I pressed a hand to my heart.
But he laughed. “You’re the worst.”
“You’re the worst.”
“You’re welcome for teaching you how to drive the tractor, by the way.”
“You let me drive for like four seconds before you took over. I mean, it tracks, but still.” I took a sip and reached for another cracker. “Think next time I can get to third?”
“Ooh, I like it when you say it like that. Sounds dirty.”
I set my whiskey down on the cheese board and crawled toward him, saying in a fake sexy voice, “Want me to grind your gear shaft?”
He leaned back a little, his legs stretched out in front of him, that smirk on his face. “I really do.”
I climbed into his lap, straddling him. “Put your key in the ignition and rev her up.” I shimmied my shoulders, still using my ha-cha-cha voice.
A laugh as he put down his glass. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“Why, do you have better?” I flicked open the top button of his plaid shirt.
His hands slid up my thighs to cup my ass. “Hop on—I’ve got a full load.”
I undid another button. “Not bad. When was the last time you had your shaft lubed?”
“About the same time I had my ball bearings checked.”
I nibbled my smiling bottom lip, working on unfastening the rest. “Lucky for you, this is a full-service shop.”
“Good. Maybe you can figure out what to do when I show you how I handle curves.”
“If you were a car door, I’d slam you all night.”
He volleyed, “What are the chances of me popping your clutch?”
I laughed, burying my face in his neck. “Okay, that’s a good one. Um … oh, I’ve got one. Wanna jack me up and check out my undercarriage?”
“Been thinking about it all day.” His hand slipped under my hem and to my ass. His smile fell. “Fuck, Livi, you’re not wearing panties?”
“No. It made riding the tractor real interesting.”
He sat up, held me around the waist, tipped me back. Kissed me deep and long. When he broke away, I lifted to my knees to get his pants out of the way. He took the moment to slide his hand up the tender flesh of my thigh, arresting my attention.
“I’ve never felt lucky,” he said, his voice rough.
My hands stilled. I peered into his face until he looked up at me.
“Never,” he said with somber sadness. “How’d you do it? How’d you make me feel this way?”
My chest ached, heavy with emotion I couldn’t acknowledge, that we couldn’t speak without jinxing it.
So instead, I said, “So there was this seance …”
And then he was laughing with adoration on his face. I held his jaw, lifted it. He wound his arms around my waist and pulled me to him.
“I don’t think it’s just me or you,” I said. “I think it’s us. I don’t know where it came from. All I know is, I don’t want to lose it.”
He lowered me onto his lap, cupped my neck, brought his lips to mine in silent accord, and kissed me.
I didn’t know how I could have kissed him so many times and still be surprised. He put on an unfeeling front, convincing everyone around him that he didn’t care. But the truth was, he cared so much, it nearly broke him. He’d never say it. But I felt it in the way he kissed me, in the way he touched me. It was a kiss always on the verge of longing, as if what he had would slip away. It was with a sense of presence, as if he needed to be here—right here—so he could remember every moment when it was gone.
He kissed me in such a way that exposed him, and what I saw broke my heart. It triggered some deep and aching desire to be everything he needed, to give myself to him so he’d know love was real and that he deserved it. Because I didn’t think he knew.
I made it a point to show him.
I hoped I already had.
My hand found its way between us, finishing its abandoned job to free him. Guiding him to meet me. Fitting him just inside of me. Letting gravity do the rest.
Our foreheads pressed together when I was seated, my body squeezing him, his throbbing in an echo. On trembling legs, I rose and fell, his face in my hand, our gazes locked. And then he pulled me down for a bruising kiss, guiding the rest of me with his free hand on my hip.
