Page 82 of Legs

“Sorry?”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Not sorry?”

Exasperated, she crushed the bottle against her chest, going for the boob rub after all. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I have my own wine.”

“Yeah. Okay. But maybe save the full-body contact for later.” My dirty princess was drawing a crowd.

“Need I remind you that you’re supposed to be the wild one? Stop smothering me.”

I planted my hands on the table and leaned toward her. “I plan to smother you plenty. Later. For now, we have a wager to complete.”

Huffing out a playful breath, she clutched the bottle and crooked her finger, beckoning me to follow. I did, magnetically. I’d have trailed her to the ends of the Earth, if she asked. She led us to a quiet corner of the tent, behind a divider. The noise dulled, jazz tunes fading to swirling notes. She turned and pulled me against her.

“This is too much.” She clutched my tie, face pleading…for what?

“It’s not enough, Ray. One apology, a thousand, would never be enough, because you’re it for me. I need you to know I’m willing to build my world around you. You make me want to do better, be better. You’re my sunshine.”

I lifted the bottle from her hands and placed it on the ground. She didn’t release my tie, so the whole thing was awkward, my upper body twisting while I reached down. I chuckled, but my laugh faded once I had her in my arms. “I’m a passionate guy, which means I might make some bad choices from time to time. It also means I’ll love you fiercely. I’ll also grovel. Whatever it takes to make amends. I won’t bury things again. Consider it a hard lesson learned.” I lowered my lips until they ghosted over hers. “Will you forgive me?”

“I already did.”

“Say it again. Then I’ll apologize again. I’ll do it until I’ve erased all your doubts.”

Instead of answering, she tugged my tie, and our lips connected in our corner of the world. The back of her top dipped low. So low, I slipped my fingers inside. Skin as smooth as velvet greeted me.

Her mouth was eager against mine, and fuck, she tasted like apples and sunshine and lemonade. She tasted like Chardonnay and a future we’d build together. We moved against each other, mouths wet, tongues tangoing with sensual groans. I was hard already, my fancy jeans about to split a seam, but I pulled back, aching. I had to. Any longer and Rachel’s mother would never show her face in this crowd again.

Rachel flattened her hands on my chest. “Did I win?”

I blinked a few times until her meaning registered. “That’s up to you.” When she frowned, I went on, “Technically, you won. You knew it was an Offshoot Chardonnay, but since the name of the wine is different, you can claim a loophole.”

I didn’t know what wager she’d written, had no idea if winning or losing would bode well for us. This was me handing her control again. I was hers to keep or discard. I’d live with the fallout.

“Win,” she said, releasing my tie and smoothing it down. “I win. But you might not like my prize. So I offer you the same loophole. If it’s too much, you can shoot me down.”

Well, then. Curiosity nipping at me, I reached into my pocket and pulled out her neatly folded paper. She knotted her fingers in an anxious twirl.

Ready or not…

Her letters were straight and neat—typical Rachel—words that blockaded my throat and compressed my ribs. Words I hadn’t dared hope for.

“You mean it?” I asked.

“I do. I love you, Jimmy.”

I reread her chosen prizes:

If I win, we move in together. If you win, we move in together.

My heart damn near exploded. I wasn’t sure I deserved a woman like Rachel, but I’d spend a lifetime trying. I refolded the note and tucked it away. “I’m keeping this under lock and key. There’s no backing out now.”

“No loophole, then?”

“Are you kidding? It took me ages to get a sleepover. You’re stuck with me, Sunshine.”

“With Superglue,” came her reply. Then she said, “I got a piercing.”