His lips find mine and I see sparks behind my eyes, fireflies. The blue ones. His mouth and my mouth dance together as if they’d choreographed the moves without our knowing. The rhythm is easy, light, fun. I can’t help but smile, breaking the kiss for one moment.
Our gazes catch and his grin is as wide as mine, like now we share a secret. Then our mouths crash together again.
The tempo changes, it’s stronger now, more insistent, leading to the crescendo of the ballet. The big moment when desires and expectations the audience didn’t know they had are met with triumphant leaps and spins. Only, this dance, this kiss, is all our own. It’s for an audience of two and we know it.
It’s just us.
The kiss deepens, goes to unexpected places that make me curious, filled with longing for more, another kiss and another, like stepping stones into a future when our lips meeting is a sure thing. A promise.
Connor’s fingers find mine and they lace together before smoothing along my back and cupping the nape of my neck. He kisses me once, twice, three times, marking me as wanted, wonderful, and his.
My hands do their own exploring and his muscles are more than I imagined. He is, too. Not a big brute with bad manners. Not a bad-boy football player with a cocky attitude. Connor is wanted, wonderful, and at least in this enchanted field filled with fireflies, he’s mine too.
Breathless, we part and he hugs me with his strong, capable arms, reminding me of one of the many trees surrounding us. Rooted, meaning we’re together and he’s not going anywhere.
Our gazes meet to confirm what just happened. He wears a smirk. My cheeks are pink from his stubble and letting down my guard, being free with him.
Hand in hand, we walk back to the Jeep.
I’ve spent hours dancing without any breaks, but nothing has ever made me as weak in the knees as kissing Connor Wolfe.
26
CONNOR
Iwake up across the room from Cateline. Despite my desire to make her my wife in real life, something is different.
The electricity in the air.
The pulse in my veins.
I was a very good boy last night. Nothing that would cause a kerfluffle. Nothing that would get me kicked off the team. I miss the guys and throwing the ball, along with shooting the bull, but spending time with Cateline is a happy distraction.
My brother’s wedding later today? Not so much.
I run through the nuts and bolts of holy matrimony. Vows to love, honor, and assist each other through sickness and health, for better or worse, richer and poorer.
Cain ought to quit while he’s ahead because I’ll eat my helmet if he makes it to their first anniversary.
Then again, he somehow hornswoggled Lizabeth into accepting his proposal. Well, presumably he proposed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hollered at her to get him a can of something cold and then said something like,Marry me, woman.
That’s the classy kind of guy Cain is. Then again, I haven’t always been a gentleman either.
Did he get Lizabeth a ring? I guess I’ll find out.
I glance at Cateline, peacefully slumbering and wrapped tight in the blankets like a mummy. We’re supposedly engaged and I didn’t get her a ring. Then again, the news came just yesterday. Her grandmother’s ring, a vintage piece with a delicate but sparkly diamond in the center, seems more meaningful anyway.
I don’t doubt that Cateline likes finery, given her extensive shoe collection and wardrobe, but I don’t think she’s in this fake engagement for the flash.
Bringing Cat to the field last night was a risk. Anna and I used to go there, but it was never like that. Cateline was genuinely enchanted by the fireflies...and I was taken by her kiss.
Not going to brag, but I’ve kissed a lot of women. And not one of them, not even Anna, ever made me feel the way I did last night. The way I still do.
I never thought my heart would beat again—the unique rhythm that’s different than the one when I’m pounding down the field with a football.
Cateline must sense my gaze on her because she rouses. Blinking her eyes open, they land on me. I expect the slow spread of her smile. Instead, she gasps and clutches the covers to her chest.
“Cat, it’s just me.”
