Page 75 of Feel It in the Air

19

MARGEAUX

The soundsof country music and voices greet me as I roll up to the cottage, even through my rolled-up windows. The thrum of the beat, alternating with the loud voices, is both oddly welcoming and a new chink in my anxiety armor. Glancing at the clock, my brain short-circuits, unable to actually process the numbers and their meaning.

All I know is that I’m supposed to have already arrived.

And by the sounds of it, I’m the last to get here.

Shit…

Sucking in air until my diaphragm hurts, I blow it out fast and hard, more than a little unsure what that move was supposed to accomplish. It sure wasn’t calming me down. It also did nothing but waste my time while I was already late. Good job, Margeaux.

Way to fuck up your first Friendsgiving…

This is what I get for thinking I could squeeze in a trip to the grocery store before heading over here. I knew better. But no, I convinced myself that going today would mean the veggies would be that much fresher, even though, let’s face it, they are probably the same ones that were sitting on the shelf yesterday. Hickory Hills isn’t that big and Wright’s Grocery isn’t that in demand. It’s doubtful they got an overnight delivery just so I could have fresher bell peppers.

Yet, in my head, that’s what was happening. Since today was an official half day at Hayes, I reasoned that I had more than enough time to pop over to Wright’s before coming home to help cook Friendsgiving.

I mean, to Gus’s. Gus’s home. Because it’s not my home. Even if I have let my imagination run wild and picture what it would be like to live here with him. Doesn’t make it mine.

Truthfully, I should have had time. The office officially closed at noon. Since so many Hayes employees end up working at the Gobble Wobble on actual Thanksgiving, the company gives everyone a half day on Tuesday, plus Wednesday and Friday off to make up for it. Which is wonderful. If it had actually worked out that way.

“Margeaux!”

The chorus of voices calling out my name makes it hard to tell exactly who notices me first as I get out of my car, but it doesn’t matter. Because there’s only one man I care about. And that’s the one who is currently jogging my way.

My insides hush, a calmness taking over, leaving room for only the sound of my racing pulse as I watch Gus close the gap between us, his dark jeans and fitted hunter-green Henley making him look like he belongs on a site for some autumnal photoshoot. Like the kind of photo that belongs on the cover of a romance novel.

As he slows down, Gus’s smile grows wider. But with it, my worry returns. My panic about being late. That I’m ruining this whole afternoon.

He starts to talk, but I cut him off. “I’m sorry I’m late. I⁠—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…”

Strong hands land on my hips, steadying me. They’re an anchor I didn’t realize I needed, but somehow Gus did. I suck in another long, hard breath, letting my diaphragm stretch once again, this time holding it for a beat longer, trying to relax. It doesn’t work though. All it does is force my words out of me like vomit.

Word vomit.

“I’m late, I know. I meant to be here…I don’t even know. But I got out of the office later than…and then the grocery, and I didn’t see Mrs. Burch this time but⁠—”

Gus captures my mouth with his, cutting me off with a punishing kiss. His lips are hard, strong, and in charge. As are his hands as they dig into my hips, my flesh giving way underneath the fabric of my jeans. He’s not gentle about anything, walking us the half a step backward, pushing me up against my car, and pressing his body over mine. He rocks his hips against me, and I mewl, whimpering into the kiss and wrapping my fingers into his shirt, trying to tug him in closer.

Fuck me, I need more.

Gus gives it to me too. My brain goes blank as he runs his fingers along the inside of the waistband of my jeans, never letting up on the kiss. The kiss that I can feel all the way in my toes. Nothing else matters. Not as long as he keeps kissing me like this. Keeps me pinned against him—his hard body holding mine captive in a way that lets me know I’ve never been safer or more adored by anyone. Ever.

Pulling back slowly, he keeps his hips pressed against mine. I’m unable to move, both from the way he’s holding me and because my knees are still weak from that kiss, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You were saying?” he asks, wearing the ridiculous smirk of a man who knows he did good. Which, to be fair, he did. More than good, actually.

I blink, my pleasure-drunk self returning to earth. “Ummm…”

“You’re not late. I don’t know why you’d think that. It’s not even two, we’re not planning to eat until six-ish, and we never start on time.”

I heave out a sigh, relaxing into him even more. “But all your brothers are already here…”

“Not everyone.” Gus throws a look over his shoulder, my gaze following. Sure enough, there’s one missing. “The Booby Trap doesn’t close ’til four, and Ewan will be busy all day, since it’s hunting season, so doubtful he’ll be out of there before five. The rest of them have been here causing trouble all day.”