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Nash wore a huge, approving smile and followed suit. By the time they were finished, Vivian was stuffed, and any cravings that might have tried to sneak up on her later had been sated.
“That was amazing,” she complimented, although the chef was nowhere nearby to hear.
“I told ya, Sam is the best barbeque slinger in the state,” Nash declared. “No one does it better. I tried once. Didn’t even come close.”
She hadn’t missed how Sam had gone from being the best in the town to the state. Next time he staked a claim, she’d bet he’d be the best in the country, maybe even the world. She shook her head.
“I bet Ms. Gretta could take him on,” Vivian told him as they got up to dump their trash and once again strode hand in hand toward the pull area where people congregated several rows deep to watch the event.
“She could, but she decided a long time ago that she had to share the glory or she’d never have any friends. Her words, not mine.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Vivian said, laughing.
The closer they got to the tractors, the louder everything became, making it nearly impossible for either of them to hold a conversation and be heard. Nash pushed his way through to the front, and Vivian followed. Since they couldn’t speak, he steered her where he wanted her, which happened to be directly in front of him and slightly to the side. His hand rested on her hip, and his body touched hers from her left shoulder all the way down to her thigh, making Vivian hyper-aware of him, to the point she wasn’t really seeing the tractors racing in front of her.
Announcers were shouting over loudspeakers, giving a play-by-play, while people shouted and hooted their excitement. Vivian was only vaguely aware of any of it.
Could Nash feel that between them, the electricity? Was he even slightly aware, or was it just her? If he could feel even half of what she was, then he was good at faking it because she felt like she was about to combust.
How could anyone have such a profound effect on her? Nash wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore, but logically, she still felt she should have spent more time with him, learning all his ins and outs, before reaching such the boiling point of desire.
His fingers moved gently against her hip as he watched the show over her shoulder, and his chest bumped against her each time he joined in shouting until Vivian was certain she would melt into a puddle right there at his feet.
Thoughts of their single kiss were still fresh in her mind, despite feeling as if it’d happened years ago instead of just days.
She needed to feel his lips against hers again. She needed more than just a friendly gesture or touch or holding hands.
Vivian needed passion and…friction. Yes, she needed good old-fashioned friction to satisfy the craving that had risen like a beast inside of her. But she knew they were far from that stage in their relationship—or whatever this was—and she closed her eyes, determined to push her desire for more back. But all she could see was Nash and those blue eyes as they held hers and he leaned in, seconds before that fated kiss that would rise up to haunt her day in and day out.
A moan bubbled up her throat unbidden.
“Are you okay?” Nash asked, those delicious lips she craved another taste of so badly just beside her ear, the deep base of his voice piercing through the din.
Startled, Vivian’s eyes snapped open, and she blinked several times to clear away the fog of the memory. It was interesting how Nash’s very presence heated her up, yet his voice in that moment was as effective as a bucketful of ice water being dumped over her head to cool her back down.
“Yes,” she croaked, then cleared her throat and repeated, “Yes. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Is the heat botherin’ you?”
She wanted to say no, but instead, she said, “A little. I think I should sit down for this next one.”
Worried, he nodded, and the hand he had on her hip turned possessive as he turned her with him and began leading the way back to the picnic area.
“You don’t have to come with me,” she insisted, once they had put enough distance between them and the crowd and racing tractors to be heard. “I don’t want to spoil your fun.”
“Nothin’ is spoiled,” he assured her, keeping her close to his side. So close, in fact, that their steps faltered every other one from their hips knocking together. “Here we are.” He settled her down on a vacant bench, his hand lingering on her shoulder as if he was afraid to leave her alone. “I’m going to go grab a coupla waters.”
She nodded. Water sounded good. She needed to cool off, get her head together, and stop fantasizing about something that may never happen. It would only lead to disappointment.
After a moment’s hesitation, he left…and that’s when the girl across from her with the two kids decided to strike up a conversation.
“So, you and Nash, huh?” She waggled her strawberry blonde eyebrows.
“Excuse me?”
She wrinkled her freckled nose and scooped up a tiny bit of mashed sweet potatoes from a paper plate to feed to the toddler on her lap. “You’re the talk of the town. Heck, I feel like I practically know ya, ‘cept we just met.”
Vivian couldn’t say the same. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
