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“Mind Mr. Harry, you hear me?”
She giggles and nods. “I will, Daddy.”
“Have fun, chica,” Leah says with a thumbs-up, to which Joey returns the gesture enthusiastically.
We both watch as Joey skip-walks her way back over toward the main building, while Tiny looks down at her with a goofy smile and listens to god knows what she’s probably chattering on about.
“Looks like it’s just the two of us,” Leah remarks, her voice a touch shakier than normal. I smile at that because it makes the whole situation feel more human.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I won’t bite.” She starts to laugh, but I talk over her seriously to add, “Unless you ask me to.”
Sudden silence descends between us, and she drops to the blanket we have spread out almost violently. I can’t say for a fact that her knees gave out, but it sure as hell seems like it.
And I’m supposed to be the one with the bum leg.
I get down much more gently, swinging my legs out in front of us and crossing them at the ankles before leaning back into my hands. She mimics my posture, and our shoulders rub infinitesimally.
Suddenly, a whistle cracks through the air and a bright light streaks into the sky before exploding what feels like directly above us. I know it’s not—they set up almost three hundred yards to our north—but that doesn’t mean the percussion of each blast doesn’t vibrate right in the center of our chests.
Leah’s face tips up as she watches the display with unconcealed wonder. And the longer they go on, the lower her guard becomes, her body shifting toward mine more and more by the second.
Leah’s side rubs against mine in a way that sparks my awareness to an eleven on a scale of ten. A simple brush of her arm feels like she’s taken her hand and put it directly around my heart.
I don’t know what it is about the crack and pop and flash of the brightly colored celebration in the sky, but it makes the space between us—the past conflict between us—feel practically nonexistent. I can feel the pulse of her breath pointedly, so when the cadence of her inhales increases, it’s not something that goes unnoticed.
I don’t know what it is about us, what it is about her, that’s suddenly driving me to distraction, but I can’t focus on anything but the way her lips look as she runs her tongue across them and glances up at me.
I’ve never felt anything like this—anything this potent—even with Anna. With her, back then, it was rushed and rough and bold. At times, the intensity far outweighed any of the actual feelings.
But this…it’s as if I’m sitting right in a puddle of every emotion I never knew how to feel. Like there’s a peace in the connection with a woman I don’t understand entirely. Like finding out all the little pieces that make her gives me a purpose I didn’t know I needed.
The weight of my stare must eventually become unbearable, because she turns to look at me with a quizzical light to her eyes. But when she sees what’s in mine, all the air in her lungs leaves in one swift rush.
“Rhett?” she questions, searching the depths of my gaze for a transcript of words I can’t find a way to say.
Words like I like you and I want you.
Silently, I slip my hand into her hair until it settles at the back of her neck and lift with a pressure I can’t control.
She doesn’t fight it, doesn’t even challenge, and before I know it, I’m not even applying the weight of my hand at all. I’m chasing her as she moves toward me all of her own free will.
I glance to her perfect, pink, unvarnished lips—a change she’s made over the last couple weeks that I can’t say I don’t like. She’s beautiful, so much so, she doesn’t need any of the shit she thought she did before—tight dresses and high heels and fancy blouses. All she needs is to be herself.
My heart thuds in my chest, and my dick wakes up as the potential for touching my lips to hers becomes real and immediate.
Her tongue darts out from the small diamond-shaped gap between her lips in a nervous attempt to moisten them both, and my dick jerks.
Fuck.
I have to taste her. Now.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly as I get closer and closer to connecting us, and her eyes are hungry—wanton. She’s just as eager as I am, and I can’t fucking wait.
A huge roar from the crowd, one completely unlike the shouts of ooh and aah we’ve been hearing for the last several minutes, jars my attention out of the hammock of Leah’s eyes and brings me back to the world around us. Almost immediately, upon breaking the spell of our connection, there’s the kind of scream no one can ignore.
