My heart beats erratically. I’ve done interviews, red carpets, and a hundred moments where I face the public for the job. Not once have I ever felt like this.
So I lean forward, pulling her close, brushing my lips against hers tentatively. The kiss is sweet and slow. That is until Mallory slides her hands around my neck, pressing her lips harder against mine with a little more urgency. I take her legs and flip them across mine so that she is lying across me and I can get closer.
Kissing Mallory is exciting. I anchor one hand around her waist and the other behind her neck as I deepen the kiss. When I open my mouth, she does the same. The taste of her setting my body on fire. My heart thumps as her tongue probes mine, my mouth ravishing hers. Our breaths grow heavy as we kiss and kiss, the wind rustling around us, the river babbling.
Mallory’s Apple Watch dings, and she pulls away, glancing at the message. “That’s my sister, letting me know they’re heading to the main saloon for some board games.”
I brush a loose strand of dark hair away from her face. “When can I see you again?”
“Do you work after dinner?”
“Nope.”
We both stand, and she brushes off non-existent dirt from the back of her denim shorts, her black Fleetwood Mac tee stretched over her ample chest. I can’t help but scan her body from head to toe, those curves just about do me in.
“Want to meet over at the pavilion? We can walk to the lake from there.”
“See you then, Cowboy.”
“See you then, Prickly Pear.”
I watch her go until the treeline takes her, my guitar still warm in my hands, seeds of guilt blooming in my gut.
Chapter 8
Mallory
“That’s it!” Kate slaps down her last trick like she’s closing a court case, her cards slinging across the table from the force. “Oh, yeah!”
Izzy counts the pile of playing cards in front of them. “Omigawd. We won.” Her gray eyes blink as she bites her bottom lip.
“Obviously, bestie!” Kate is already standing, arms out. “I bid four and took four. You went nil. We’re geniuses.”
Bree rolls her eyes. “You bid four and panicked each round.” She writes something on the scorepad without elaborating.
Kate scoffs. “It was controlled panic. That’s totally different.”
Bree flops back in her chair. “We had them, Mal. What went wrong?” She takes a sip from her ‘loves bad decisions’ travel mug. She had one made for each of especially for this trip.
“We did not have them.”
“We had a vibe.” Her words fumble around her straw.
I squint, the corners of my mouth pulling up slightly. “We had mimosas.”
All three ladies grab their insulated tumblers in a spontaneous cheers, so I raise my hot pink one and take a sip.
We’re in the saloon playing cards and board games, which are kept on some shelves near the old-time jukebox. Since the counter’s only open at night, we made tumblers of mimosas to drink as we play. Two games of spades and half our insulated tumblers later, we’re all a little tipsy and feeling silly.
Kate is doing a slow victory shimmy around the table, holding her ‘loves red flags’ cup. Izzy watches her, pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” I tell my twin, knowing full well this will only encourage her.
She pirouettes my direction and hugs me from behind, kissing me on the top of my head with a loud mwuah. “You love me.” She squeezes my shoulders before prancing back to her seat.
Izzy is already shuffling the deck. “Your boys were so cute at the pool, Mal!”
“They were.” Bree’s eyes shine brightly at me. “Declan and Gunnar make good funcles.”
