“Ruined dress. Ruined shirt.”
“Worth it.”
She closes the distance first. The kiss is wine-sweet and perfect. Her hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my damp hair. I pull her closer across the table, ignoring the wet fabric, the staring waiter—hell, the entire restaurant is probably watching. Our kiss is sweet and a little comical because we’re both sticky and smell like a vineyard.
When we break apart, she’s breathing hard, forehead against mine.
“This night has just proven that I’m trouble, hasn’t it,” she whispers.
“The best kind,” I say. “The kind I want to keep getting into.”
She laughs again, softer this time. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet, Captain.”
The waiter finally brings us to-go boxes, extra napkins, and a bottle of wine on the house. He follows us out the door, pleading that we not leave a bad review. Poor guy. We walk out of the restaurant hand in hand, both of us still drenched, laughing like idiots, her heels clicking on the sidewalk while I try not to slip in my ruined dress shoes.
When we reach the parking lot, we realize that we both took Ubers here. We end up walking anyway, wandering back to school slowly because neither of us wants the night to end. Every few steps, she bumps her hip into mine on purpose. I steal kisses at stoplights.
She reaches down and adjusts the strap on her shoes, and I stop with her.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She makes a face. “Rethinking the heels now.”
“Come here.” I turn and look at her over my shoulder, pointing at my back. “At your service.”
She laughs and takes her shoes off, sighing with relief as she shifts her shoes to one hand, and then climbs on my back. Her legs wrap around my waist and she holds on, her hands resting on my chest.
By the time we reach her door, I am flying so high.
“Can I see you again?” I ask, my hands on her face.
“Yes, please,” she whispers before I kiss her again.
CHAPTER FOUR
LOON JURISDICTION
TULLY
I pick The Loon for dinner because it’s loud enough to drown out my thoughts yet not so loud that it’s unbearable. Also because Goldie never says no to their Tater Tot hotdish, and she’s leaving a big project on her new house to see me at the last minute, so I need her in a good mood.
She’s already in a booth when I walk in, blonde braid over one shoulder, and demolishing a basket of fried pickles.
“Wow,” she says, looking me up and down. “What happened toyou?”
“Thanks. Love you too,” I mutter, sliding into the booth.
I haven’t slept. Every time I close my eyes, I see Lola’s face, then his.
“I already told Lorraine to bring on the hotdishandthe cheese curds.”
“I need an IV with both.”
Lorraine walks up with water and winks at me. “Well, hello, good-looking,” she says. “What’s with the long face?”
“Hey, Lorraine. I just needed to see you.” I muster up a grin, and she squeezes my shoulder.
“Thanks, honey. If only I were thirty years younger.” She sighs before walking away.
