Page 186 of Worth the Trip

“You mean them when you’re joking too.”

“That’s why you keep smiling.”

She laughed against my mouth when I kissed her again.

This one took longer.

Her fingers slipped into my locs while my hand settled behind her neck, and Thursday started looking disrespectfully far away.

Eventually, she touched her thumb to my lower lip.

“I should go.”

“I know.”

“You’re not arguing?”

“I’m practicing emotional maturity.”

“How does it feel?”

“Unnatural and poorly rewarded.”

She laughed while I killed the engine.

I walked her to the SUV, carrying the picnic tote and bookstore bag despite the look she gave me.

“I can carry those.”

“I know.”

“You’ve become predictable.”

“Consistency often does.”

I put the tote in the back and the bookstore bag carefully on the passenger seat. My black T-shirt remained folded inside her overnight bag.

I noticed.

Said nothing.

Some victories deserved privacy.

Nolani leaned against the driver’s door while I stood in front of her with one hand at her waist. The field had gone still behind us, and sunlight caught the edges of her curls.

“Call me when you get home.”

“You’re not my parole officer.”

“Nah, love. I’m your man. Different jurisdiction.”

Her lips curved. “What penalties exist for noncompliance?”

“I come looking for you.”

“Dramatic.”

“Practical. I know the route.”