Yeah. We should close the coffee shop tomorrow. Take a day off totake our time.
“You don’t have much privacy up on the porch like that,” a woman’s voice calls.
Reed draws away enough to look over his shoulder. An older neighbor of mine strolls down the street, using a walking stick to help her along. Another one of my mother’s friends, and part of Fran and Nora’s inner circle.
“Hi, Barb.” I wave from behind Reed, whose hands still cup my face. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“It’s nice enough. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take it inside.” She waves, shooing us away as she carries herself out of view.
When Reed looks back at me, his eyes have returned to their normal chocolate brown. Barb doused his smolder like pouring water over a campfire. I’m both grateful and annoyed that not all of Mom’s friends are keen to see us making out in public.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks.
“Having dinner with Cassie, from library craft night.” Her text inviting me to hang out at Delish sounded like the perfect plan a few days ago, but now I wish my schedule was completely empty so Reed can claim it all.
Not truly, though. I’m looking forward to getting to know herbetter. I don’t want to be that woman who cancels plans with friends to be with a man. Even if I’ve heard that exact advice somewhere before.
His mouth quirks. “The next night?”
“I’m free on Tuesday.”
He nods. “Tuesday it is.”
I won’t be counting down the minutes or anything.
He presses one last, lingering kiss to the side of my mouth. Exactly over my dimple, which is probably going crazy from how wildly I’m smiling right now.
“I should go.” He makes it sound like a hardship. My grump knows how to get a girl to swoon.
With every step he takes toward his Bronco, disappointment wells inside me like the tide washing in. I can be patient until our date. We’ll see each other tomorrow. I can exercise self-control.
Well. He did say I didn’t need to work on my self-control, didn’t he? No point in beingtoopatient.
I run down the porch steps after him. “Reed.”
He turns. “Yeah?”
I throw myself into his arms, giving him the sendoff he deserves. Our mouths fuse, his arms wrapping around me to lift me off my feet. His back hits the side of the Bronco, and I’m sure we’re making an even bigger, more public display of our affection than the kiss Barb witnessed. Watch me not care.
Kissing Reed Bridger is a delight I’m determined to indulge in every day. The scratch of his beard. The play of his tongue. The strength of his hands splayed across my back. I am a crow, and his kisses are all the best shiny things I’ve ever seen. I want every possible variety for my collection.
Happiness burns through me so bright, I smile against his mouth. Nerves still linger like dust motes I can’t clear away when it comes to the uncharted territory we’re headed into, but who better to help me through it than a former park ranger?
When I finally pull back and he sets me on my feet, I beam up at him. “See you tomorrow.”
His newfound smiles are amazing, but the dazed look in his eyes right now, like he’s not quite thinking clearly? I should pat myself on the back for that.
I let myself inside the house, the rumble of Reed’s Bronco driving off giving me the same warm fuzzies as listening to Stormy’s happy purr. I assume. I haven’t actually experienced it yet. Miracles happen every day, right?
The moment I close and lock the door behind me, my phone starts to ring. I pull it out and see my mom’s name on the screen. Her timing is so uncanny, my skin prickles along my back. It’s almost like they’re watching me on secret cameras.
I peer into the corners of the room, even though I know there’s nothing there. Reed and I just painted these walls, and I pulled down all their old decor. If they had cameras in here, they would know about the redecorating, and I would have already heard their opinions on it.
Still. Seriously considering even for a moment that my parents might be spying on me is a pretty bleak assessment.
“Hi, Mom.” I go upstairs to my room rather than hang out on the stiff-backed couch. Stormy’s curled up on my bed, and my overworked heart melts a little more for him. He hasn’t actually slept in my bed at night yet, but this is a huge step. I gently settle on the other side of the bed, careful not to disturb him.
“Rosie! Are you having a good weekend, honey?”
