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Keep your gratitude. I want you. Just you.
He wanted to hold her, talk to her, kiss her . . . And if now wasn’t the time or the place, hell, he’d find another.
He drew Caroline in front of him. Placing his hands on her waist, careful to keep his touch light, he looked down into her green eyes. “Do you trust me?”
“As much as I trust anyone,” she said.
She didn’t say no.
The smile hit him hard and fast even though he knew her answer was a far cry from yes. Grinning like he’d won the freaking lottery, he released her right hip and raised his hand to her mouth. He ran his thumb over the pad of her lips and murmured, “Kiss me. Long and hard.”
Her brow knit together. “And that will tell Josie’s dad and the rest of the police force—”
“That we’re sharing a helluva lot more than pies. But don’t do it for them. Kiss me because you want to. Because you remember what if felt like last time and you want—”
“More.” She raised her hands to his face and cupped his jaw. Her gaze honed in on his lips as if assessing her target. Then she rose up on her toes and leaned forward. Her lips brushed his and he closed his eyes. The reception faded into the background. Music, voices, the sounds of laughter and joy blended together.
Don’t pull back.
He tightened his hold on her hips. If she refused to deepen the kiss, he’d settle for long. They’d work their way up to hard.
Already there. . .
But his hard-on wasn’t invited to this kiss.
Caroline stepped forward and pressed her body against his. Her lips parted as their gentle kiss shifted into hot-and-heavy territory. Their tongues touched. Greedy. Hungry. And oh man, he felt a surge of desire to take everything this woman had to give.
She moved closer until she practically straddled his left leg. His fingers dug into the fabric of her dress. His hands were tempted to roam over her lower back, to search for a sign that she’d forgotten her underwear, but he kept the impulse in check. Her inner thigh brushed his.
No gun.
Stripped of her defenses—her weapon, her don’t-mess-with-me baggy T-shirt, and her place in the shadows—Caroline was a bold, passionate woman. And he hated the fact that labels held her back. Victim. Outlaw. She was so much more than her past.
She released her hold on him and broke the kiss.
“Now what?” she murmured.
He caught her hand in his. “Now we take a walk.”
“Josh—”
“We need to talk.” He led her past the dance floor and through the maze of tables. He nodded to Noah, who was staring after them, probably debating if he should step in and demand to know what the hell was going on. But Caroline had told her friend to stay out of her ‘friendship’ with Josh. And the groom trusted her to take care of herself—most of the time.
They stepped out of the tent and headed into the night. Stars blanketed the sky overhead and a nearly full moon illuminated the grassy stretch between the reception and the old barn. Josh debated checking the door to see if the groom had locked it up for the party. The old building was home to a handful of cats and the old mechanical bull from Big Buck’s days as a country western barn catering to loggers instead of college kids.
He glanced at Caroline. “Cold?”
“I’m fine.” She stopped and pulled her hand free from his grip. “It’s warm still. Especially for September.”
“Yeah. Dry too.”
“Why are we out here, Josh?” she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Heck, she looked badass even in the pale green sundress with her lips red from their kiss.
“I want you. So damn much. And you sure as hell haven’t missed that fact.”
“No.” Her gaze drifted to his fly as if recalling the feel of his erection pressed against her. “You’ve dropped off a lot of pies.”
