“Because it’s a rust-bucket death-trap and probably should be put out of its misery but I figured you’d freak out if I sent it straight to the scrap yard.”
“It is not a death-trap.” She loved her Cavalier. She’d had it since the day she’d gotten her license. Used every penny of the money she’d save working two part-time jobs to buy it. The car had served her well.
“I notice you didn’t argue the rust-bucket description. And how can you say it’s not a death trap when it coughed and spluttered its way up the street when you got here. I don’t know how it made it from one side of Hope Falls to the other, never mind from one side of the country to the other.”
She huffed. Hadn’t she thought more than once on her trip across the country that the old convertible wouldn’t make it? Dammit. She hated that he was right. Signing, she said, “Fine. A mechanic should look at it.”
Tris laughed. “Jeez, Cov, don’t let my concern for your safety twist your arm.”
Rolling her eyes, she poked out her tongue.
He moved before she blinked. Swooped in and planted his mouth over hers, sucking her tongue between his lips and dancing his across it. The kiss was unexpected, the flash of sensation, the rush of emotion, not so much.
She remembered kissing him. Remembered his lips on hers had a way of wiping her mind clear of everything but him. More. More of him.
Whimpering, she softened, her body leaning into his, her arms sliding around his waist in an attempt to find an anchor. To hold on to the one solid thing left in her world.
The kiss went on and on until they were both gasping for breath.
Pulling apart, she stared up at him, her gaze searching his for an answer. To what question she hadn’t a clue but if she looked long enough, deep enough, surely she’d find the clarity she was looking for.
“Cov.”
Her name whispered though his lips. The ones wet from their kiss. And she remembered hearing that tremor in his voice too. Being in Tris’s arms brought back so many memories. Like a movie reel they rolled across her mind delivered in Technicolor with the added bonus of remembered sensation, taste and smell.
He’d played her body so effortlessly that night. Stroked her skin and marked her bones with every brush of his flesh on hers. She hadn’t known anything like it. Tris had loved each and every inch of her with such desperate enthusiasm that she’d been helpless to do anything but surrender. Returning his passion with an urgent fervor of her own, she indulged in fantasies she’d never dreamed of fulfilling.
It was the most amazing night of her life.
And she’d thanked him by shoving him out the door the next morning and keeping their babies a secret for months.
Taking a step back, she pulled out of his arms. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? I kissed you. I should be the one apologizing.” He dragged a hand through his hair before rubbing it over the stubble on his chin. “I shouldn’t have touched you. It won’t happen again.”
“I’m not sorry about the kiss.” Was he insane? Who in their right mind would be sorry about a kiss like that? She might have what people referred to as ‘baby-brain’ but she was with it enough to know there was nothing to be sorry for in that kiss.
“What are you apologizing for then?”
She wanted to smile at the look of confusion on his face but didn’t think it would help the situation. “I’m sorry I threw you out. Sorry for whatever horrible things I said. I didn’t mean one word.”
He tipped his head to the side and regarded her with shrewd eyes. “You don’t remember what you said do you?”
“Ah…” Covington shook her head.
“Jesus.” A bark of laughter exploded from his chest. “Shit. You don’t remember a word and didn’t mean any of them anyway, and I tucked tail and ran because of them.”
“Oh.” He’d left because of what she’d said?
Shaking his head, he said, “Yeah. Fucked that up royally.”
“I—”
He dragged her in, gave her a quick squeeze then spun her in the direction of the bathroom. “Go. We’re going to be late.”
“But—” He gave her a slap on the ass. “Hey!”
“Get going. I’ll ring Lance about your bag. We’ll swing past on the way to the clinic.”
