My fingers wrap around her delicate wrist as she passes, her mouth parting in an ‘O’ as she lets out a surprising squeal. I tug her back, spinning her straight into my chest. Her skin is hot from the afternoon sun and dancing…and covered in a sheen of sweat.
“J,” she giggles.
I kiss her in greeting. She melts into my chest, my hand on the small of her back, keeping her on her feet as I deepen the kiss. Her hand fists my shirt like an anchor. I swear I’ve never felt greater love than I do with this woman.
She pulls back, pink creeping up her neck.
“Damn, I’m a little turned on,” Heath says as he falls into the seat next to me.
“Grow up,” Levi grumbles.
Wren rests her forehead on my chest. “Don’t hide, Whiskey. Let the world see what you mean to me.”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, Wren.” I gently smack her ass, causing her to jump and gasp. “Go get your drink, baby.”
Grinning, she presses a kiss to my lips before slipping away.
Heath throws his arm over my shoulder, the smell of booze pouring off him. His head lulls as he gives me a dopey smile. “Love looks good on you.”
I shove him off. “Get a water, man.”
Levi chuckles. “It does.”
“What?”
“Look good on you,” he answers. “Never seen you like this, even back then.”
I watch Wren grab a drink, tilting her head in laughter at something Russ says, before shimmying her way back to the dance floor.
The music swells as the bar comes alive.
But even through the lightness of the night, I can feel it.
Something hums under my skin.
Something I can’t ignore.
The buzz isn’t loud or sharp. It’s a restless energy, one leaving me unsettled like my body knows something my brain isn’t aware of yet.
It’s the same feeling I used to get on assignments.
My fingers twitch against the condensation of my beer. I roll my shoulders once, cracking my neck to try to shake this feeling.
Heath drones on about the girls he met from the bachelorette party. They’re staying at the resort and invited him over at the end of the night. The way this fool is drinking, he’s going to be passed out before the fireworks begin.
He’s always been the one to go too hard too quickly. As much as I love the guy, he plays too much, trying to hide his inner workings. It’s as if humor is his coping device, and if he’s not making someone laugh or being the group idiot, he’s letting people see the fear behind his eyes.
I’ve lost track of the conversation as I watch Wren dance with Greer and a few other people we know. It helps having Silo Bay be a small town. There aren’t too many people I don’t know inside this bar; most of the out-of-towners stick to the lakeside park and businesses.
But the joy she once emanated feels fragile, like a sheet of glass waiting for one thing to cause a chip that’ll lead to a crack before it shatters.
The fireworks will be starting soon. The reminder sends a chill down my spine. I breathe through it. I chose The Spillway for a reason. It’s smaller, loud enough to drown out theexplosions, and far enough not to see any residual lights. I’m grateful for good friends who know what fireworks trigger. They agreed to come without hesitation, even though Baker’s band was playing before and after the fireworks show at Sunset Shores.
Deep down, the edginess doesn’t feel like paranoia from fireworks. It feels heavier.
I scan the exits, the windows, and the crowd.
