“Oh yeah?” I can’t help but smile.
He nods, with a lopsided smirk and squint in his eye. The slight graying at his temples contradicts his cute, boyish demeanor.
He’s still massaging my fingers as he leans down, his eyes bouncing between my eyes and lips. A scent, so distinctly him, invades the space around me, engulfing me. It’s sweet and spicy and different from the woodsy sage scent that Jasper has or the sweet mint flavor of Wade’s lips.
“I’m going to kiss you now. Then we’re going to walk back in there and figure out what other traditions we can make tonight.”
How my smile can get any bigger I have no idea. He doesn’t give it anymore time though. He presses his lips to mine and I purse back, cupping both my hands around his face at the same time our tongues meet. It’s just as explosive as my kiss with Jasper, just like the one with Wade, and I have no idea how any of this makes sense.
Each of these men are so different, so unique in their own way. Yet, the intimacy I experience with each of them is far beyond anything I could imagine.
Major moans and pulls back, his fingers stop massaging mine and his hand folds into my palm as if he needs to hold me in place.
“I knew before, but now I really know,” he says.
“Know what?” I ask.
“The reason why the guys are so obsessed and never want you to leave.”
I roll my eyes and huff out a shy giggle as I shake my head. We’ve had fun but that’s all this is…justfun. I’ll be leaving soon and this whole experience will be a passing thought for all of them.
“I’m serious, princess.” He steps away, not letting go of my hand as he leads me back through the archway. “We’re not letting you get away that easily.”
CHAPTER 19
I AM THE SELF-PROCLAIMED MASTER OF GOOD IDEAS
JASPER
“Do you think he’s talking to her?” Wade asks as he stares out the open doorway into the garage.
“Yes,” I chuckle, “I’m sure he is.”
“I mean trying to talk her into staying longer?” He glances over at me and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen his eyes look so vulnerable.
Normally Wade is curt and short with me. But the way he’s looking at me now, with both a feral need and a desperate longing for Abby to stay, is a sight that would literally put me to my knees.
I’ll never get over how much I want him now that I’ve had a taste of him. And somehow, the sweet citrus flavor from Abby’s lips mixed with that tantalizing mint spice that follows Wade around like a lost puppy has created an addictive combination that I couldn’t be more obsessed with.
“If anyone can, it’s him,” I state factually, because Major is incredibly persuasive and it’s not often he doesn’t find a way to make things happen. Especially when it comes to things that revolve around the people he cares about.
Even though I know Major wants this—probably just as much as we do—he wouldn’t act on it for himself alone. He’s selfless that way. And he’ll find too many excuses to put her out of his league if it were solely for his benefit. But, I see how she affects him, just as badly as she affects me and Wade. There is something happening between all of us and if we don’t explore this I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
“I have an idea.” Wade’s wide, curious eyes trail my movement as I walk through the doorway and into the garage.
Turning the corner, I pass the line of wall mounted storage lockers until I find mine. Reaching into my cubby, I grab the yellow corded rope that’s tied neatly into an infinity loop and then dig into my bag pulling out a clean bandana. Sometimes I’ll wear one under my helmet to help manage the sweat from the heat we have to endure, but this will be useful for a whole other reason tonight.
I run my hand over our turnout gear and glance between the rope, bandana, and fire truck smiling to myself because I have the best fucking idea. I know Major will massively frown upon it, but I’m not sure I care enough to worry about what he thinks at this point.
He’s just as invested as we are and sometimes he needs a little push.
Wade too.
I rummage through my bag, I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for, just something that might contribute more to my plan and freeze when I see the shirt I wore at the Farmers Market the day I met Abby.
It’s a basic white tee, but dons the words,Lettuce Turnip the Beetdown the middle. I remember she asked if it was because I like music or vegetables, but now it carries a whole new meaning.
I tuck the bandana in my back pocket and hold onto the shirt and rope as I walk back to our rec room where a majority of our time has been spent today, which isn’t uncommon, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to easily erase the memories from tonight out of it.
