Page 73 of Already Callin’ You Mine

“Okay,” Margeaux injects, fingers flying across her phone. “We can have a fog machine delivered Wednesday if need be.”

“Doesn’t that still use dry ice?” Sawyer asks.

Margeaux looks up, biting her bottom lip. “Does it?” Scrolling on her phone again, she hums as she tries to find the answer. “This says it uses either liquid nitrogen or liquid oxygen. I don’t know enough chemistry to know if that’s a good thing or not.”

I wait for one of the two science nerds on the other side of the table to answer, but both Anton and Sawyer remain silent. So much for that.

“Well, it’s an option,” Margeaux offers, putting her phone down. Turning to Presley, she beams, the I’m all business look on her face melting away. “You’re bringing Otis to Truck or Treat, right?”

My insides clench, waiting on her answer. I assumed they were coming. Actually, I assumed we were all going to go together. But I haven’t actually asked.

Shit…

“Of course, he’s very excited. We got our costumes locked down the other night.”

Relief floods my veins, and I let out a long exhale, reaching over and placing a hand on Presley’s thigh under the table. Her breath catches, a barely audible sound I almost miss, as she slides her free hand down to rest on top of mine. This feels so good—so natural—sitting here, having lunch with her and my family, not a care in the world. Other than if our mama’s dry ice is going to work.

“What’s Otis going as?” I ask, wanting to know everything.

Turning to me, she gives me a knowing smile. Like there’s an inside joke coming.

“Buzz Lightyear. He was recently introduced to the Toy Story movies and became very hyperfocused on that being his costume this year.”

Solid choice, Little Man…

Paired with her answer, that smile starts to make sense, leaving a giddy feeling smack-dab in the center of my chest. Like an earthworm needling itself into the dirt, whatever this feeling is works its way inside me, latching on.

I need to know if this a group costume.

“And you?” I follow up.

“Bo Peep. Not the most original, but the only girl costume I could figure out from Toy Story, other than Andy’s Mom, and Otis insisted I had to be a girl character. Because I’m a girl.”

I snicker, her answer so perfect and she doesn’t even know.

“Need a Woody?”

Presley’s eyes go wide, the pink tint in her cheeks deepening. She took that both ways it was intended. Exactly the response I was hoping for.

“That’s an awfully personal question to just bust out in the lunchroom, dude,” Anton snarks.

Fucker…

“Woody and Buzz are a pair,” I reply calmly, keeping some know-it-all in my voice. “Can’t really have one without the other.”

“Single women everywhere would tend to disagree with you on that,” Sawyer comments, not skipping a beat, her deadpan expression solidly in place. Damn, Anton is really rubbing off on her.

Giggling, Presley squeezes my hand, shooting lightning straight down my spine. “If you really want to put on a cowboy hat and a cowhide vest, I won’t stop you.”

“If that’s what does it for you, I’ll even find spurs and a sheriff’s star.” I wink, hoping to earn another giggle.

Instead, Presley ups the ante. “That’s basic requirements for a proper Woody.”

Now she’s giving me a proper woody. At lunch. In public. You’d think we were in high school all over again with the way my body is reacting to her. Maybe because this is exactly how my body reacted to her in high school. Or maybe it’s because I didn’t get enough time to explore her body the other night—the sound of my name on her lips as she fell apart better than any drug.

I need to focus though. I can’t let myself get carried away—not here. More than our location, I don’t want her to think I’m only after one thing. Unless that one thing is spending time with her—and Otis—getting to know them. Being a⁠—

Nope, not using the F word.