So much so that for twenty-four hours I’ve been fantasizing about having an actual social life outside of work.
With Winnie. And Barrel.
“I understand. That’s part of why I moved here,” she says. “I was working two jobs in Nashville, living with my parents, and I still couldn’t afford to have any sort of social life or take vacations. It was crazy. Moving here allows me to have better balance.”
“That’s fantastic. I think it’s safe to say small town life agrees with Barrel too.” I hand her the lease. “I have to pass out bourbon samples to the same twenty people who drank them yesterday.”
Winnie chuckles. “Then why are you doing it again?”
I shrug. “Because it makes those twenty people happy. Bourbon is a social drink. It’s meant to be sipped while you spend time with family and friends. I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday than having conversations all day with the people who are the heart of Wanted.”
“I love that,” Winnie says softly.
She leans forward a little, into my orbit.
Hell, she’s been in my orbit since the second she arrived in town.
Something is crackling between us again, right here, right now. Sweeping my gaze over her I lean in as well, slowly, to see if she’ll pull back.
There is nothing I want more than to ease my hand into her dark hair and pull her in for a kiss.
She doesn’t back away.
Winnie drifts closer to me.
I go for it.
Cupping her cheek, I stroke the smooth skin with my callused thumb, marveling at how beautiful she is. Desire punches me in the gut when her lips drift apart and her amber eyes darken.
This is a woman who could make a man could forget himself and all his good intentions.
When I take her mouth with mine, every last thought I’ve ever had disappears.
Replaced by a sudden and overwhelming need to make Winnie mine.
There’s nothing else. No crowd. No festival. No sweet scent of elephant ears and spring flowers blooming.
Just Winnie.
The second our lips meet, Winnie sighs, her eyes drifting shut.
Sweeping my tongue over hers, I close my eyes too and seek a deeper, fuller connection.
She takes like bourbon and chocolate and if there isn’t a more fucking perfect combination on this earth I don’t know what it is.
Then without warning she’s gone.
A cool breeze replaces where her mouth was beneath mine a second ago.
My eyes fly open and I see Winnie being dragged away by Barrel.
It’s so fast and unexpected Winnie collides with the edge of the lemonade stand.
“Are you okay?” I ask, rushing over to her.
She’s shaking her head in amusement. “I’m good.” She pulls the dog firmly to a stop. “Barrel spotted a toddler with a corn dog. I think he figured easy pickings. I think he might have a corn dog problem.”
“He also might have a problem with us kissing,” I say, because when I move to rub my hand over his head he growls at me.
