“We did it!” he says, eyes focused solely on me.
It’s thewethat does it for me. Here he is, finally getting recognition for something that matters so much to him and he’s including me in the success. Silas hasn’t been lying this whole time when he says men here are different. That they treat their women with respect, treat them like a queen. He’s proven it to me every single day.
So when he gets that look in his eye, his head lowering to mine, I melt into him. He dips me clean over his arm, my one leg flying in the air and hopefully not flashing the entire Square. And then he kisses me.
His lips part mine, his tongue a welcome balm in this heat. It’s the kind of kiss that unravels your best-laid plans and leaves you open to new dreams. His arms hold me tight, no danger of letting go when I need him to stay on my feet. Hoots and hollers greet my ears and still I kiss him back. It’s not proper and not at all in alignment with our agreement, and yet I don’t stop him. Won’t stop the best kiss I’ve ever had with the nicest man on the planet, who also happens to have the hottest body east of the Mississippi River.
He pulls me upright and plucks calmer, more appropriate kisses from my lips while we both breathe heavily and smile at each other like lovestruck teenagers. The world slowly comes back into my awareness and my ears burn as whistles still ring out.
“I couldn’t help myself,” Silas whispers against my lips. His hands leave my hips to cup my face. “Did I tell you how amazing you look? And more importantly, how much I appreciate you?”
I’m grinning from ear to ear. “No, you did not.”
“I do apologize, honey.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks. His gaze skims over me, picking out all the differences in myappearance. “Though I have to say I think I like you better with all your piercings still in.”
“You’re quite the sweet-talker,” I drawl, though his words light me up on the inside. I took out all my piercings to look proper for this event. To know Silas likes me better with all that metal makes my heart do something it’s never done before. It practically melts at his feet. And it’s not due to this unrelenting heat.
“I want to reward you later tonight for all your hard work.” He lifts a suggestive eyebrow and that Mr. Nice Guy veneer cracks, showing me the secret dirty side I love so much.
I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “How about we sell the hell out of these clothes first?”
He puts his arm around my waist and steers me through the crowd. “You mean sell theheavenout of them.”
So…we do. A line of customers has formed outside the boutique. Silas lets them in, telling them stories about his mama and why we ordered the clothes that we did. I slip back into my Doc Martens—they match my dress, okay?—and get to work handing out champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries in between getting fitting rooms ready. My poor out-of-shape smile muscles get a workout.
We don’t get a single break in the mad rush before it’s closing time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Silas
“Folks!It’s time for food and dancing!”
The stragglers left in Harp and Hemline at six o’clock let out a cheer, most of them getting in line to pay for the purchases in their hands. Betsy and I work like a well-oiled machine to get them checked out and on their way. When the last one walks out, I lock the door and flip the sign to closed.
“Did they like the clothes that much or did we get them schnockered?” Betsy asks, collecting all the empty, used champagne glasses.
I rush over to help. This woman has been a godsend, a big-hearted workhorse with a surprising gift for fashion and charming people with her deadpan delivery. When I told Birdie at the beginning of summer that I needed help, I hadn’t imagined she’d pick someone so opposite of what I thought I needed. Funny how life has a way of bringing just the right people into your life at just the right time.
“I think it was both. We might want to serve champagne all the time.”
Betsy swats my hand away when I try to steal a chocolate-covered strawberry. “No way! It’s gotta be seasonal. That’s what makes it special.”
“Speaking of special,” I mutter, sneaking a strawberry the second her head is turned.
I crowd her until the bow on her back comes in contact with the mirror hanging on the wall. She looks up at me with a spark of irritation that quickly turns to a lazy smile. God, I love that I can put that look on her face. My pelvis holds her locked in place. I slide the tip of the strawberry against her bottom lip. Her tongue darts out to lick in its wake. Everything below my belt tightens in response.
“I think it’s time for some of your reward, storm cloud.”
I slip the strawberry past her lips and hold it while she bites into it. She chews slowly, her gaze never leaving mine. Fuck, she’s hot when she eats. I feed her another bite, taking my time and ignoring the sounds of a party happening out in the Square. In here it’s just her and me.
I can’t take it any longer, I need a taste. Bending at the neck, I lay my mouth on hers, my tongue sliding across her lip and tasting chocolate. She whimpers in the back of her throat, making me forget about the rest of the strawberry and kiss her like I mean it. Her hands slide around my waist and pull the hem of my polo shirt out of my pants. Her palms are cool as they press along my back. I don’t want to mess up her pretty dress, but if I can just maneuver us into the storage room, I’d love to get her out of it entirely.
A loud bang on the front door has us jumping apart. The mirror clangs against the wall with the movement. I shift to the right so a rack of clothing hides my indecent erection, but I see that it’s just Deuce. Betsy flips him off, which makes me laugh. I’d like to flip him off for interrupting too.
“Stupid friends,” I mutter, which makes Betsy laugh.
I head over and unlock the door to let him in. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face which makes me scowl even more. He knows what he interrupted.
