Page 57 of Small Town Boy

His strong hand rubs my back, my purge of emotions taking control of the whole moment. Noel doesn’t seem to mind though. I can feel our bond deepening as he holds me, the world that is “us” starting to take shape.

“As much as I want to tell Marie to kiss my ass, all this brought you to me. And I can’t hate that.”

I sputter out a laugh, which might be the wrong reaction, but I don’t care. I’m too content in his arms to focus on anything else. Tightening his hold on me, Noel starts to sway, kissing the top of my head. It’s wonderful and perfect, just like him. Shifting in his lap, I try to look up at him, wanting to see those intense brown eyes of his. Only, my shifting paired with his swaying doesn’t give me the result I want.

Splash!

16

BRONWYN

“I should get you out of these wet clothes.”

Noel steps into me, running his hand along my side, my soaking wet clothes clinging to me like a second skin. A very stiff, uncomfortable one at that. Gripping my hip, he places a chaste kiss right at my hairline, looking borderline guilty.

Hitting the water had been a shock all on its own. The temperature upped the ante. But it had also provided just the tension breaker—and laugh—that we needed. It gave us a moment to recover from the cloud that was hanging over us, making way for the sunshine to revel in the newness of us. Because after tonight, we are definitely an “us.”

He’d made quick work of getting us out of the water—only after fetching the fishing pole that had tumbled in after us—scooping me up as soon as we hit dry land and taking me back to the truck. His boots made a loud, weird squishing sound, like two full gallon jugs stomping on the wood, water sloshing out of them with each step, making me giggle the whole way. Especially since halfway there he realized he left a pole and the blanket, dropping me only long enough to dash to retrieve them.

“Might be a good idea.”

“Might? You’re shivering.”

Not because of water…

Noel shifts his weight, my body following his movements. Eyes locked with mine, I can see the emotion flowing behind them, his mind cranking even though he’s quiet as a church mouse. I wish I could read those thoughts, have some insight into what he’s thinking. If his mind is winding down the same roads mine is. If all this means as much to him as it does me.

He rocks back on one foot, leaving a hand on my hip, cool air seeping between us. Goose bumps crawl up my exposed skin, and I fight back a physical reaction. So, maybe I’m colder than I thought. Now that the sun is all the way down, all the heat of the day disappeared quickly.

Reaching behind me, Noel pulls a towel from an old, threadbare duffle that had been shoved under the bench seat of his truck. I expect him to hand it to me, but instead, he shakes it out and runs it over my hair, squeezing the long, wet strands. His touch feels good—even through a towel—making me crave more. More that doesn’t involve any kind of fabric.

Taking the towel from him, I pick up where he left off, watching as he puts the fishing gear in the bed of his truck. His normally well-fit jeans are molded to him even more than usual thanks to being soaked, and I’m unable to take my eyes off him. I swear, you could bounce a quarter off his ass.

“Like what you see?” he asks, not bothering to turn and look at me. I can hear the smirk in his voice, making me want to challenge him. He might think he knows me after this last week, but I’m not going to let him off that easy.

“It’s not bad.”

“Not bad?”

He whips around, lunging toward me. I’m not quick enough on my feet to react in time, his hand circling my waist and pushing me up against the truck. The metal is cool, pressing against my wet shirt, a bead of water slipping down my back. I suck in a breath, ready to fight back, when Noel does the unthinkable.

He tickles me.

His fingers slip under the hem of my shirt, dancing lightly across my skin. The feeling hits me instantly and I squeal, the sound echoing into the night air. Noel huffs out a single chuckle, increasing his intensity as I wiggle and giggle, trying to escape his torture. But it’s no use.

At least until he leans in.

Pausing only briefly before diving in, he kisses me. Quick, simple, with no pretense. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world. A small-town boy showing his girl some affection.

“Couldn’t help but steal a kiss.”

“That’s okay. I won’t accuse you of being a thief.”

“Does that mean I can do this?”

Resting his arm flat against the truck above my head, he places a knuckle under my chin, lifting it upward. My insides go all mushy, my knees turning to Jell-O. I stop breathing, the anticipation of his kiss swirling in my stomach. Noel seems to know it too, hovering right at my lips, his breath tickling my skin. All my self-control is dangling on the edge, and I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. Thankfully, Noel can’t resist either, pressing his lips to mine, kissing me deeply.

And I’m done for. Stick a fork in me, because that’s all she wrote. He has my number and I do not want it back.