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“I’m trying to make a living the best way I know how, and I’m failing at it. I could lead a United States Marine battalion, but I can’t figure out how to get people to like my Facebook page. I pulled people out of the rubble of a building, but I can’t even get enough clients to fill my week.”
Her eyes bounced between his. So dark, so intense, so hardened, and he didn’t want or need meaningless words of praise. He wasn’t aYou can do it!kind of guy. So instead, she did the thing she was good at. “How can I help?”
“I don’t know.” He let out an exhausted breath. “You know how to code a website?”
“I don’t, but my friend Laney is a marketing guru. She might have some tips or know someone who can do it for cheap. Do you want me to talk to her?”
She could physically see him swallowing his pride after a minute. “Yeah.” He sat up. “I guess.” But before she could respond, he went on, “What time do you leave tomorrow?”
“Flight’s at eleven.”
He stood up, pulling her with him. “Me and my brothers are going out for dinner tonight, but do you have a ride to the airport tomorrow?”
“I was going to get a Lyft.”
“I’ll take you.”
“Okay.” She smiled, and he kissed her cheek.
“I’ll let you finish up. I just wanted to come by to apologize. I didn’t mean to…” He gestured to the floor as if his guts were spilled there.
“I’m glad you did.”
He offered her one more kiss on her lips, infinitely sweet but much too short, before backing away. “Text me later. Let me know what time you want to leave.”
15
The next day, Sam and the girls exchanged GIFs in anticipation of finally being together again. Laney sent one of shots being poured. Bronte sent a whole bunch of random people dancing. Then Gem came back with Kristen Wiig drunk on a plane. Sam typedMe in a few hoursbefore hopping in the shower.
With her bags packed, her hair falling in waves from letting it dry naturally, and her AirPods tucked safely in the front pocket of her cutoffs, she met Mike out on the sidewalk.
“Lemme grab that,” he said, reaching for the small suitcase. “All set?”
She smiled her thanks and got into his car, buckling her seat belt. Behind the wheel, Mike paused the small movement of putting the key in the ignition when he caught her eyes and smiled. “Is that my shirt?”
She looked down at the white V neck, practically a dress with the sleeves reaching down to her elbows. She’d knotted it at her waist. “Uh, yeah.” When he cocked his head to the side, that single eyebrow with the slash through it raised, she tucked her sunglasses on her head, pretending her whole body wasn’t going up in flames. “Remember, like, two weeks ago, when your mom made ribs, and Jimmy and I came over? I got barbecue sauce on my shirt, and you gave me this to put on.”
He hummed out an agreement and took her by surprise when he leaned over, tugging her chin between his fingers to press his mouth to hers. His lips were always so soft, the softest part of his body, and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her hands around his neck, pulling him to her. He was so big yet so gentle, and with a stroke of his tongue to her lower lip, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.
“Hi,” he said.
She breathed out a laugh. “Hi.”
He shifted back another two inches and cleared his throat. “I don’t know what that was about. Some kind of Cro-Magnon gene still hanging around inside me that really,reallylikes you wearing my T-shirt.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I like wearing your T-shirt too.”
After one more kiss, he turned the ignition over. “What’re your plans while you’re over there? Besides all the drinks and dicks.”
“That’s pretty much it, I think.”
He tossed her a heated look, one that made promises as well as threats, both of them delicious.
“The dancing will be totally PG, and I’m not planning on bringing anyone back to the house.”
He grabbed hold of her hand, twining his fingers with hers.
“Bronte said Chris hired us a personal chef for the weekend, so I’m going to eat my face off.”
