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His plan was to back away but when her soft eyes met his, his pulse raced. With very little blinking, she stared at him. His eyes lowered to her lips and his own mouth flooded with moisture. Did he lean in? Would she have pulled away?
“Okay people,” Ms. Diana said walking out of Heather’s house. “I think the men are ready for us.”
Desmond descended the ladder. His eyes widened. “Sure, Ms. Diana. Whatever you say.”
“Everything’s plugged in, right?” Terrance's forehead furrowed.
Allen walked over to the surge cord. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“Shall we do a countdown?” Morgan asked.
Heather came outside behind her sister wrapped in a throw blanket. She glowed in the moonlight and her smile made his breath quicken.
Morgan held up her hand for the countdown. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
Allen flipped the switch and Heather’s house twinkled in lights. The crowd cheered and a few ladies hugged her. Some waved goodbye while her mother and sister took turns hugging her. Allen shook the hands of those that said goodnight, but Ms. Diana caught him off guard with another hug.
She patted his back. “Thank you for making my daughter happy today.”
“Anyone would have done it.”
Ms. Diana looked back at her daughter who was hugging Emily. “I don’t think so. Have a good night.” She walked away.
Allen then faced Heather who called Tinsel back inside. He waved, and she motioned for him to come closer. He needed to leave—now, but like a moth to a flame, he walked closer.
Heather rubbed at her arms. “This is so beautiful.”
She was too, but he didn’t say it aloud. Instead, he looked around. “It is nice.”
“And I hear you had something to do with this.”
Allen’s smile gave him away. “Small town news travels fast.”
“If it’s my mother, even faster.”
They both laughed, but then Heather teared up. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He froze at first, but then his arms wrapped around her waist. Their height difference didn’t matter because she fit his frame. He held her close, breathing in her familiar floral scent.
“I’m sorry.” Heather drew back but was still in his embrace. She wiped one cheek. “I’m not this emotional.”
Allen reached and stroked her cheek. “It’s okay.”
Heather’s eyes dropped to his lips. “I... I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Allen’s rational ways screamed for him to hurry to his truck, but holding Heather felt like home. “Probably not.”
“This could get complicated.” She looked up at him, her eyes were still damp.
“I know.”
“But…”
He cupped her cheek once more and then rested his hand on her shoulder. Heather leaned into his touch and Allen pressed his forehead against hers. The alarms went off in his head like sirens, but when Heather leaned in further, Allen didn’t pull back. Their lips met, and he cupped her face in his hands. Heather pressed her hands against his back, sinking into his body.
Her mouth was as sweet as he imagined. Her lips were soft. He deepened the kiss as she caressed his back. His hands ran down her neck and she shivered. Soon they switched with her arms around his neck and his around her waist. Heather’s blanket fell to the porch.
Did he hear bells? Who heard bells when they kissed? That only happened in movies, right? If only the skeletons of his past didn’t creep inside him.
Pulling away was best, but his lips relished in her taste. Heather’s mouth opened but nothing came out. He watched as she poked her tongue into her cheek. Would she understand his reasons? Was he ready to talk about it? Allen instead bent and picked up her blanket. He handed it to her.
