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Oh. Damn. My heart. “You’re a sweet talker.”
“Jo, you’re important to me, and I want to be important to you.”
Hewasimportant. Scary important. Too important for something temporary, but there it was. The intensity of his gaze, the rapid beating of his heart, and the heat coming off his skin as we swayed to a song I didn’t recognize. It short-circuited my brain.
He was amazing, too good to be true, and the sex was off the charts. Did he want something more with me? How would that even work?
“You’re important.” I stared at his chest, the place where I knew his T-shirt covered the hawk tattoo. He wanted to change. Lucas had changed into a dream and changed me into a woman who thought she could have the dream. When he changed back to the Seattle tech guru he was, it would only leave me with memories. I needed to make them good ones.
I looked at him with a hooded gaze and he returned one of his own.
“Can I see you later?” he asked. “I want to hold you all night. We both have to be up early.”
“I’m sweaty and smell like food. I need a shower.”
“That can be arranged. I know a place with a big shower only steps from a warm bed.”
Oh man, spending the evening at this family party, spending the night wrapped in his arms. I wasn’t strong enough to resist. I would enjoy this as long as I could. “That sounds perfect.”
He dipped his head and gave me a soft kiss. It was meant to be chaste and family-friendly, but all I could think of was where else I wanted that mouth. This man.
34
JO
“The pictures are stunning,”Mom said at our weekly lunchtime call.
“The fields look exactly like that, Mom. Some time, you and Dad will have to come out and see it. You won’t believe it.”
“You know we want to. We will. We’ll find the time. We’ll make the time,” she said before we said our goodbyes. I know they wanted to come, but it was a long flight, and money didn’t grow on trees, and some relative always needed a ride into the city for a doctor’s appointment. Both Mom and Dad led full lives in their retirement, and they were happy right where they were. I’m the one who left. The unspoken law of Southern culture, I had to be the one to come back.
After two weeks, the Tulip Festival was on track to be a raging success. This year, the clear skies and breathtaking colors attracted record crowds, and every tulip farm in town buzzed with activity. I was busy with extra hours at The Elliot and a few short-term gigs cooking meals at other farms for families who were too exhausted to cook for themselves at the end of the day. Lucas and I kept missing each other, and it sucked.
Me:Sorry I missed your call. Got home late.
Lucas:How was work?
Me:Busy, sweaty, exhausting, exhilarating. Like old times.
Lucas:Do you think Miles will offer you full-time?
Me:Nah. I was hired as backup sous chef for peak times. They don’t need another FT.
Lucas:Back to sweaty and exhilarating. Next time come here. Crawl in bed. Wake me with your tongue somewhere interesting.
Me:Don’t forget exhausted.
Lucas:Ok, wake me. I’ll do all the work.
Me:[eggplant emoji]
Lucas:All for you, Sweetness.
Me:[smiley face emoji]
Me:How’s the festival?
Lucas:Busy. Sales are up. Lines moving faster with the new point of sale software I installed. More people stay and buy things. Only had a few late nights working on glitches.
