Oh, I said it out loud.
“Just thinking about things,” I say noncommittally.
He studies my face but doesn’t say anything except to kiss my forehead.
“Do you want to walk around the rest of the fair?” he asks.
“That sounds fun,” I say. “We could play some of the arcades. And maybe we can ride the Ferris wheel.”
He takes my hand. “Let’s do it.”
It’s a hot summer day, and I’m wearing a tank top and mini skort so I can feel the sun beating on my bare skin as we wander through the fair. We stop for ice cream under a tent, but then we head into the thick of the fair to try our hand at a few games.
Neither one of us is any good at them, and we eventually break into laughter and head for the amusement rides.
“Your shoulders are starting to burn.” Michael gently presses on my left shoulder. “The skin is pink.”
“I’m so not a summer girl,” I say. “Give me a northern climate, please.”
“Same here.” He pulls his ball cap down more so the visor puts his face in shadow.
His t-shirt and long shorts are so sexy. Impulsively, I put my hand into his back pocket as we walk.
“Now you’re getting me all hot and bothered,” he jokes.
“I’m pretty sure the sun is doing that all on its own.”
“Not the same.” He puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head. “Your hot and bothered is always welcome.”
“Shall we ride the Ferris wheel and make out at the top?”
He stops me in the middle of the grassy area and kisses me, long and slow.
I slip my hands underneath the hem of his t-shirt and run my fingers over his hard abs. He lets out a growl and pulls me in closer.
And I lose myself in our kiss.
Michael is a great kisser. The best ever in my book. Not because of any one thing but because of how much effort he puts into it. He savors each little nibble and every tug of my bottom lip. His tongue expertly knows its way around my mouth, and while his kisses are urgent and filled with desire, he never seems to rush.
Eventually, I become vaguely aware of being bumped into by passers-by, and we break apart.
Breathing heavily, I stare up at him.
“You make me wild, Emery,” he says after a few beats.
This moment between us…it hangs heavy under the hot Montana sun.
“Michael, I…”
“Emery, do you…”
Whatever either of us were about to say comes to a screeching halt as the loudspeaker starts blaring with a warning to vacate the area due to one of the food trucks having an issue with its smoker.
“There is no fire,” the person says. “But we need to bring in a fire truck to remove the risk of a fire starting from any lingering embers. Please exit this area and go toward the rides.”
Michael takes my hand. “Let’s go for a ride.”
The Ferris wheel is one of those fast, super high ones where I actually feel dizzy at the top.
