Just as I’m about to, I don’t know, implode, Junior spins and steps up to my father. My dad’s always used his height and brawn to intimidate, but Junior’s taller and broader.
He looks at Junior with evil eyes, his mouth set to spit something vile. I cringe, waiting for it.
Junior, however, beats him to the punch.
“You will never speak to Tanner that way again, Mr. Buchanan. Now get the fuck off this property before I remove you from it.”
My father opens and closes his mouth like a fish on dry land. Before he can conjure words, Junior plows forward, nearly touching noses with him. “And if you threaten Tanner’s mom again? Let’s just say I know people who will make that very uncomfortable for you. Nowget.”
My dad, perhaps figuring out that Junior is stronger, younger, and faster than him, decides not to be a complete and utter idiot. He swallows hard, then steps back. “You can’t threaten me like that. I can have you arrested.”
“Oh, is that right? You’ll have me arrested? You’re going to call Sheriff Patrick to do that, I assume?” he asks, disdain and amusement dripping from his voice.
I bite back a laugh, knowing how much my father hated losing the sheriff’s race.
Dad snarls and spits on the ground but walks away, gets in his truck, and peels off. When he rounds the corner, I let out the breath I’ve been holding.
Junior turns around. “Hey, are you okay?”
Pfft. AmIokay?
I answer by launching myself at him, wrapping my legs around his waist, attacking his lips, and kissing him with a strength I didn’t know I had. He leans us against the car and grinds into me, returning the kiss with equal ferocity.
“You’re the only person aside from Sheriff Patrick that’s stood up to him like that. You protected me,” I whisper between bruising kisses.
Junior growls from the back of his throat and deepens our kisses like I’ve said what he needed to hear.
“I’m going to text Mrs. Tooke and let her know we’re going to be a little late today,” he says, grabbing the phone out of his back pocket.
He single-thumbs a text to Mrs. Tooke while walking me back to the house. I’m clinging to him like a freshly glued set of eyelashes, kissing him, his face, his neck, his ears as he tries the front door.
“Tanner, I need your keys,” he says, dodging my lips, his face dotted with my sparkly lip prints.
He has to repeat himself before I finally lean back and dig into my front pocket. It’s not easy to do while wearing skinny jeansandbeing held by a big, strong cowboy, but I manage. Grinning, he nips my nose, then grabs the keys and smoothly unlocks the door, carrying me over the threshold.
He turns to lock the door, then asks, “Where am I going?”
I hesitate. If I say the living room, it’s because I want to make out. If I say my bedroom, it’s because I want more.
“Down the hallway. First bedroom on the right.”
His eyes soften, and he kisses my eyebrow while walking us toward my room. We continue making out, clashing teeth and tongues and lips as we make it to the room.
Placing his knee on the bed, he gently lowers me to the soft surface. I’m hard as a rock and his kisses on my neck send me to a different planet.
“We can keep kissing like this,” he says between kisses. “But—”
“Get naked,” I demand, no idea where that came from.
He grins against my jaw, whispering into my ear, “You’ve got it.”
He disentangles from me. An action made difficult by the fact I haven’t managed to stop clinging to him.
“You will have to unwrap your legs if you want me to take things off,” he notes, amusement lighting his face.
I pout but eventually let him go. Standing over me by the side of the bed, he unsnaps the pearl buttons on his cowboy shirt while greedily taking me in.
“You just gonna watch me undress?” he asks, raising his eyebrow while an evil grin tilts his lips.
