His lips curved, a little uneven. “Yeah, well. The way you kiss me? I’m about ten seconds from changing my mind, and this room doesn’t even have a real door.”
That made her laugh. The sound was soft, breathless, and completely flustered. “We really need to get you that shirt.”
He nodded, but didn’t move right away. “Just so we’re clear—me stopping doesn’t mean I don’t want this.”
Her gaze locked with his, equal parts playful and serious. “Just so you’re clear—I know.”
He kissed her again. He was gentler now, reverent almost. Then he slid his hand from her shorts, pressing one final touch to her hip before helping ease her leg down from around hiswaist.
Her hand slipped from him last, fingers brushing over him as she let go, and he swore under his breath.
They were both shaking a little. Her jean shorts hung open, zipper halfway down. His jeans were still unzipped, heavy and damp.
She exhaled a short, stunned laugh. “We almost had sex next to the bleach.”
He huffed out a low breath. “It’s not even the good bleach. Industrial-grade.”
That made her laugh again. She turned to the supply rack, tugging down one of the T-shirts they sold with trembling fingers.
And as he reached for it, brushing her hand again, all he could think was?—
Next time, wild horses wouldn’t stop him.
FIFTEEN
KRISTA
Thursday, One Day Before the Summer Swap
The fire crackled low in the pit, sparks drifting into the warm night air. The Crafting Club had all packed up and left, and the Hideaway was closed for the evening. All was still except for the sound of the boats brushing against the dock and the occasional hoot of an owl. Krista curled her bare toes beneath her on the outdoor sofa, a blanket draped over her lap. Two mostly empty bowls of ramen noodles sat on the table before them. The noodles were Krista’s go-to meal after working a long shift.
“You just keep a stash of these here?” Joe had asked, opening his seasoning packet and mixing it in the boiling water while Krista added an obscene amount of red chili flakes to hers.
“I’d eat these every night if it wasn’t for Kit,” Krista had replied. “It’s not that I don’t like cooking,” she had quickly clarified, “I just rarely have the time.”
“Well, if you’re feeling adventurous, I have pots and pans and a few canned goods at the campground.”
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” Krista had replied even ifshe couldn’t quite picture herself cooking over an open flame without burning the tent down.
They spent the rest of their meal slurping noodles and chatting like old friends who had been apart for too long. Krista told Joe how much she loved spending time with Zoe, Cassidy, and the rest of the crew when it wasn’t summer. How they had a Crafting Club and game nights with plenty of wine and cheese and chocolate. Talking about it had made Krista long for the slower days of fall and winter, which felt ridiculous because she loved summer. She just hated being so busy.
Now, Joe sat opposite, a cocktail shaker in one hand and a grin tugging at his mouth.
“Alright,” he said, pouring the pale pink liquid into two glasses, “I call this one the Hot Honey Summer. Equal parts strawberry syrup, honey whiskey, and lime juice. May or may not set your mouth on fire.”
Krista accepted her glass, the drink fizzing faintly. “You do realize this is the fifth experiment tonight, right?”
“Scientific progress takes commitment,” Joe said solemnly.
She laughed, clinking her glass against his. “To science.”
The drink was sweet and smoky. Warm looseness spread through her limbs as moonlight pooled across the dock, silvering the lake. Firelight flickered across Joe’s face, catching in his dark eyes, turning them almost amber. He looked…content. And that was saying something for a man who claimed he never stayed long enough to get comfortable.
“You know, your experiments so far taste far better than mine,” Krista said, recalling the time she mixed peach schnapps with too much tequila and it ended up tasting like fruity gasoline. That was a big nope even when she added lots of ice.
“I don’t know. That Hot Honey Margarita is pretty phenomenal.”
Krista’s mouth curved. “You’re right. It is. And if you’regoing to be running the Hideaway, you’re going to have to know how to make it.”
