“What?”
“Like you think it’s all going to be easy with you because we’re friends, but hashing this out is like working on that eighties Mercedes Louise had for a while.”
Her lashes fell.
“Ran like a dream once we had it all tuned up.” Cloth rustled, and heat warmed the front of her body. His fingers brushed hers as he caged her arms with his. She raised her lashes to find those devilish dark eyes close to hers, a slight humorous twist to his lips.
“You’re comparing me to a classic luxury car.” She refused to cross her arms. “A high maintenance luxury car.”
“Yeah.” He lifted a hand to catch a lock of her hair and twirl it around his finger. “Told you it ran like a dream once we fixed the misfires.”
“Misfires.” She looped her arms about his neck and drew him closer. He allowed it, belly and thighs pressed to hers. “You have a smart mouth, Colt Calvert.”
“Runs in the family.” One corner of that delicious mouth quirked. “Get it from Gene.”
With a soft noise of assent, she lifted her lips to his, opening to him. Talking got them into trouble, and this was easy. He nipped at her lower lip, danced the tip of his tongue just inside her mouth. He really was the biggest tease, and yes, she would tell Mama about him . . . soon. Tangling her fingers in the short hair at his nape, she stroked the base of his skull, swallowing his rough groan.
“I’ll come with you to your family Thanksgiving.” She melted into him, her curves aligned to hard muscles, but found no jagged edges to hurt her. A smile moved his mouth against hers. “Be prepared to go get Chinese after the Macy’s parade with Mona because that’s what we do.”
He lifted his head, body still a warm wall at her front. “But home in time to watch football, right?”
“Of course.” Mama loved football, and they watched every Thanksgiving afternoon, then Holly went to Scott’s for final party setup and–
A dart of pain skewered through her chest, and she stiffened.
Colt levered back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about–” She bit the words off and shook her head. Ignoring how her fingers shook, she brushed her hair back. Time. She simply needed more time, that was all. She’d get over this, get overhim. A swallow hurt her too-tight throat. “Nothing.”
“Okay.” His eyes said he wasn’t fooled, but he respected the boundary. Taking a step back, he tilted his head toward the door. “I’m going to clean up the grill now it’s had time to cool.”
“Thank you.” Watching him walk out, she ran her palms down the sides of her thighs. She was doing the right thing, moving on. She and Scott were over, if they’d ever really beenanything to start with, and she liked Colt, cared about him, wanted him, trusted him.
All of this would befine.
Chapter Five
“Oh, Colt. This is perfect.” The awed whisper fell from Holly’s lips as she stared up at the vibrant glass plates on the dark walls, spotlights making them glow. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It is.” Something raw in his voice had her swinging about to look at him, finding his gaze on her face. Her cheeks heated.
She fumbled for his hand, threading their fingers. “Thank you for this.”
“It’s a pool hall chili dog and some photos.” With an easy grin, he shrugged.
Pinning him with a look, she turned back to the glass in front of them, part of a tryptic showcasing the Gulf. “It’s more and you know it.”
He squeezed her hand, palm hot against hers. “I’m glad you like it.”
“What’s not to like?” She wandered to the next set of photos, loving the simplicity of their linked hands, of his long, lean body next to hers. Earlier, she hadn’t been sure about this Thomasville evening out when, after parking, he’d hustled her toward the pool hall and ordered chili dogs and glass-bottled Cokes at the window. Sitting tucked under his arm on a bench to eat and watch passersby hadn’t been awful at all, though, and this art display? Amazing.
As far as dates went, no one had ever tailored a night for her like this.
She stared at a plate of a full moon rising over the bay at St. Simon’s, creating a path of silver and gold on the water. Lamps created pools of illumination for each glass, bathing the photos in sheer gorgeousness. The entire showing captivated her.
Honestly, he captivated her.
She played her fingertips over his knuckles, studying a shot of a fern frond, crystal drops of dew on the lacy edges. His thumb made a foray over her palm, and an ephemeral flicker of desire flashed through her lower belly. A quick glance at him revealed a hot, hooded gaze studying her instead of the art. The air shrunk around them, the muted conversation surrounding them falling away under the pulse of blood in her ears.
