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Cal, surprise in his eyes, smiled wider. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Royal nodded. “Take him on in, Mackey.” He watched Mackey grab Cal’s hand and lead him up the back steps and into the house, then turned back to Beau, a hint of grudging respect in his eyes. “Boy’s got good manners.”
Beau, his grin hesitant, nodded. “Yes, he d—”
“Must’ve got ’em from his mama.” Royal headed back up the steps, opened the back door, then pointed over his shoulder at Beau as he was closing the door behind him. “You can stay out here and build the fire.”
Beau shook his head, but his grin returned.
“What are you smiling about?” Kit asked.
“Your dad. He said Cal has good manners. That’s about as close to a compliment as I’ve ever gotten from him.” He raised his eyebrow, pride evident in his expression. “And,” he stressed, “he said I could stay out here.”
Kit laughed. “How is that a compliment?”
“He could’ve said I had to leave altogether, but he didn’t.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and twisted it, wringing it out. “That’s progress, my friend.” He smiled wider and wiped the mud off his face with the damp hem of his T-shirt. “That’s progress.”
Pleasure tingled through Kit as one of his big hands lifted, smoothed over his stubbled jaw, then rubbed the back of his strong neck. “Are we?” she asked softly.
“Are we what?” Still smiling, he narrowed his eyes, allowed his gaze to rove over her forehead and cheeks. “I missed a spot. You still have a bit of mud on your chin.” He lifted the hem of his T-shirt and motioned toward her face. “May I?”
She nodded absently. “Sure, but—” The firm but gentle rub of his cloth-covered thumb against her chin made her breath catch. She stilled, absorbing his tender touch. Admiring the strong curve of his jaw as he dipped his head closer, his wet hair brushing her temple. A pang of jealousy hit, unwanted and unwelcome.
“Are we what?” his deep voice prompted.
Kit blinked. His head had turned, and his eyes were on her, studying her expression.
“Are we . . . ?” She swallowed hard, her attention moving over his handsome face. In spite of his deep tan, the sun had burned him a little during their time on the water, leaving behind a soft rosy glow across the upper halves of his lean cheeks. She lifted her hand and traced her damp fingertips lightly over the rosy color in his right cheek, leaving two droplets of water behind. “Are we friends?” she whispered. “Like you and Viv? Is that what we are?”
He leaned closer, his smile fading, as his thumb left her chin and skimmed across her lower lip. “No.”
“No?” She held her breath. Didn’t move. Afraid, more than anything, that he’d draw away, removing the warmth of his wide chest and the pleasurable flutter his touch had stirred within her.
“No,” he repeated firmly. “Nothing like Viv. Let’s leave her out of this, okay?”
She studied the dimple in his chin. The strong column of his throat.
“Whatever this is between us . . .” He nudged the tip of her nose with his, tilting her face up, his mouth poised above hers, blue eyes dark with desire and invitation. “Whatever we have, it’s different.”
Relief moved through her, and she lifted to her toes, touched her mouth to his, parted his warm lips with hers. The taste of him hit her tongue, and groaning softly, he pressed closer, the rough brush of stubble on his jaw rubbing across her smooth cheek, heightening the rush of pleasure through her veins.
The door slammed open, and they sprang apart. Kit’s cheeks flamed as Royal stomped down the back steps. He crossed the backyard, a glass bottle of soda in each hand, and stopped in front of Beau.
Royal shoved one of the bottles against Beau’s middle. “I’ll get the fire going.”
Face flushing, Beau grabbed the bottle with both hands before it fell to the ground. “Thank you, R—”
“Don’t care how old you are, boy,” Royal bit out. “While you’re on my land, you best keep your lips on that instead of my daughter.”
CHAPTER7
Though he was still thoroughly embarrassed after leaving Teague Cottage and returning home hours later, Beau couldn’t stop smiling.
“And Dad got stuck in the mud.” Cal, seated at the kitchen table between Nate and Viv, paused his exuberant recitation of the day’s events long enough to gulp a mouthful of iced sweet tea from the glass sitting in front of him. “After we pulled him out—”
“They had to pull you out, son?” Nate eyed Beau and tried not to smile. His shoulders shook.
“Only because”—Beau held up a hand—“I happened to land in the wrong spot. It was an honest mistake that could’ve happened to anyone. Kit took us out to a bed I’d never been to before.”
