“Thank you for letting me take you out.” I glanced over. “Even if your friends did orchestrate the whole thing.”
“I should’ve known they were up to something when they insisted I come to the auction.”
“Remind me to send them a thank you note.”
She snorted. “Don’t encourage them.”
The easy silence settled back between us as we passed the “Welcome to Huckleberry Creek” sign. No awkwardness, no tension—just comfortable quiet between two people who’d known each other forever. The town scrolled past our windows—the courthouse square with its ancient oaks, my sister’s bookstore, Plot Twist; the flower shop owned by Felicity Harmon, who I had it on good authority was the object of Gabe’s affections; the hardware store where I’d bought supplies for all those home improvement projects I’d never gotten around to. My gut twisted at that thought, remembering the state of our old house. Her house now.
But tonight wasn’t about regrets. Tonight was about remembering who we used to be. And maybe, just maybe, finding out who we could be again.
I pulled into the driveway, my headlights sweeping across the front of the house. Her house now. The broken porch railing cast jagged shadows across the front yard, an uncomfortable reminder of our broken marriage.
I cut the engine. “Let me get your door.”
Pepper smiled and stayed put, which felt like a small victory. Another weight on the side of this being an actual date. Or maybe it was just reflexive. A remembered habit.
I circled around, opened the passenger door, and offered my hand. She took it, her fingers sliding against mine as she stepped down from the truck. The contact sent electricity racing up my arm. Her hand in mine felt right. Easy. Like coming home after a long deployment.
Instead of heading toward the sagging front porch, I guided her toward the side entrance—the garage door that led straight into the kitchen. It was what we’d always done, using the front door only for guests or special occasions. Maybe I wasn’t a side door visitor now, but I didn’t want to risk her turning an ankle if those heels got caught between the rotten floorboards of the front porch.
The motion-sensor light flickered on as we approached the door, bathing us in a soft yellow glow. Pepper fumbled in her purse for her keys, and I caught myself studying her profile—the curve of her cheek, the sweep of her lashes, the slight furrow between her brows as she concentrated.
“I had a good time tonight.” I meant it more than I’d expected to.
She looked up, those gray-green eyes catching the light. “Me too.”
We stood there, neither of us making a move to leave or go inside. A strand of auburn hair fell across her face, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out, tucking it gently behind her ear. My fingers lingered against her cheek.
“Rhett...” Her voice caught.
She placed her hand on my chest, right over my heart. Could she feel it hammering beneath her palm? The warmth of her touch burned through my shirt.
Of their own volition, my hands drifted to her hips, as they’d wanted to do since the night I’d seen her at the bachelor auction, curling around those delicious curves until I memorized their imprint on my palms. Her fingers gripped my lapel, her eyes searching mine with unmistakable hunger.
I didn’t have a right to this, to her. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself from closing the distance between us, fitting my mouth against hers in a whisper of a kiss.
The kiss stayed sweet and languid, a slow exploration that felt both familiar and new. Pepper’s lips were soft, yielding, and I took my time, savoring the taste of her—a hint of the wine we’d shared at dinner, a whisper of the mint she’d popped in her mouth after our meal, and underneath it all, just Pepper.
Her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling around my lapels, pulling me closer. I obliged, stepping into her until our bodies pressed together, every curve and valley fitting just right. A soft sigh escaped her, and I drank it in, deepening the kiss.
She rose onto her tiptoes, her mouth moving against mine with growing urgency. The kiss turned molten, a spark igniting a wildfire that raced through my veins. My hands skimmed up her sides, then down again, tracing the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, before settling on her thighs. I gripped them, lifting her slightly, and backed her against the door.
A gasp tore from her throat as her back hit the solid wood, but she didn’t break the kiss. Instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck, her fingers tangling in the hair at my nape. I devoured her mouth, our tongues clashing, our breaths mingling. She tasted like home and heartache, like memories and missed chances. And damn if I wasn’t here for it, ready to dive headfirst into whatever this was, whatever we could be again.
Pepper’s legs hitched around my hips, pulling me closer, and I groaned, a low, guttural sound that rumbled up from my chest. My hands roamed over her body, reacquainting myself with every inch, every secret spot that made her shiver, that made her moan. She was a landscape I’d once known by heart but was now discovering again, with all its changed terrain and hidden treasures.
Her fingers tightened in my hair, tugging just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain down my spine. I nipped at her bottom lip, soothing the sting with a sweep of my tongue. Her eyes fluttered closed, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, and she melted into me, her body soft and pliant against mine.
The world narrowed down to this—the taste of her, the feel of her, the sound of her ragged breaths mingling with mine. Nothing else mattered. Not the past, not the future, not the broken promises or the shattered dreams. Just this. Just us. Just now.
A pair of headlights swept across us, momentarily blinding as a car turned onto the street. The harsh intrusion of reality crashed over us like a bucket of ice water. I broke the kiss, my body instinctively moving to shield Pepper from view as we both turned toward the street.
Mrs. Donnelly’s ancient Buick rolled past, the old woman likely oblivious to what she’d interrupted as she made her way home from her weekly bridge game.
I let Pepper slide down, my body already mourning the loss of contact as her feet touched the ground. Her lips were swollen from my kisses, her cheeks flushed, and her breathing as ragged as mine. We stared at each other, the air between us charged with electricity and unspoken words.
She stepped out of my hold, creating a distance that felt like miles instead of inches. I had to fight not to reach for her again, curling my hands into fists at my sides to keep from pulling her back against me.
