With a laugh, June shakes her head, studying me.“Not one for patience, are you?”
I’m not, but it’s beside the point.
“Who says this has anything to do with patience?”I challenge.
She shrugs but doesn’t answer, choosing to stare at her tiny, almost perfectly golden mallow instead.
Here’s the thing.I’m used to people making assumptions about me.Hell, it comes with the Harden name.But for some reason, June’s assumptions hit differently.They’re…sharper, almost.And the ease with which she pieced together my lack of patience over something as trivial as a fucking marshmallow?Ouch.
“Seriously, I want to know,” I push.“Because from where I’m sitting, it’s a marshmallow.”
“Well, yeah, but…”
“But what, June Bug?”
The same purse of her lips does weird things to me as she eyes me from her periphery.“Do you really prefer the burnt ones over ones like this?”She pulls her roaster from the fire.On it is a perfectly cooked, golden ball of marshmallow guts.Even though it can’t be more than the size of a mini marshmallow you find at the store, I can’t deny the truth.It’s cooked to perfection.But does she need to know that?Nah, I think not.I give her a “You serious?”look, and she laughs again.
“What?It’s good.”
“Have you learned nothing?”I volley.“Size matters, June Bug.And I mean that in every sense.”
Her shoulders shake with amusement before she plucks the pathetically-sized mallow from the stick.Bouncing her eyebrows up and down, she motions for me to take it.“Can’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
“That so?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Careful what you wish for.”
Something dances in her pretty gaze.Is it…mirth?Fuck, she’s pretty when her guard is down.
“And what am I wishing for?”she quips.
“That I’ll steal a taste.”Grabbing her wrist, I bring her fingers to my mouth, wrap my lips around them, and suck the perfectly golden marshmallow from her fingertips.
Bad fucking idea.For more reasons than one.
I blame the alcohol, though it’d be a hell of a lot easier to do if I was blackout drunk and would have no memory of this tomorrow.Instead, I can’t help but memorize the moment.The sweetness of the mallow.The slight saltiness from her skin.The smooth texture against my tongue.
I repeat: Bad.Fucking.Idea.
Her lips part as her focus zeroes in on my lips wrapped around her fingers.Her chest rises and falls on a shallow breath.Honestly, I’m as shocked as she is.What the hell am I doing?Flirting is one thing.Putting your mouth on someone?
Her gaze flicks to mine, but the doubt I expect to see?The shame or discomfort?All of it’s missing.Instead, all that shines back at me is…
Dammit, June Bug.Are you curious?
“June?”someone calls.
Jerking away, June wipes her fingers on her jeans and stands, looking guilty as hell.“Hey, Bryan!”The words come out as a squeak and hit like a bucket of cold water.
Oh.
So, this is where the guilt stems from.
“Sorry, I took so long.The bathrooms are by the parking lot,” Bryan tells her.He stomps toward us through the sand when his attention hits me like a bucket of bricks.“Hey, man.”
Hey?
