“I’m thinking I should kiss you goodnight right here. Really play into this date drop-off thing we have going.”
“You’re not afraid your parents will come out?”
“That just makes it feel dangerous. Like we’re living on the edge.”
Makenna throws her beautiful head back and laughs. “Yes,very much on the edge.”
I chuckle, wrap my arms around her waist and pull her to me. “They're more the type to flash the porch light over and over, anyway. Just ask my sisters.”
She slides her hands up my chest and around my neck. “I’ll do that.”
“You were amazing tonight. I’ve never been happier to be on the stage. I’ve always enjoyed the gigs. But you made it something else entirely.”
“Did I? Because it really required some bravery on my part,” she says, a crooked smile on her face. There’s mischief sparkling in her eyes. I don’t know what it’s about, but I’m soaking in every ounce of it.
“Aye, ya did. And I appreciate your bravery.”
“It seems like you owe me,” Makenna teases, running her fingernails up and down in the hair at the nape of my neck.
I’d laugh if I weren’t so entranced.
“I owe you, do I?”
Makenna nuzzles into my neck. “Mmmhmm.”
This is a new and interesting side of Makenna. “Well, then. I’ll take care of my debt right now, if that’s okay. I don’t like to let things like this linger.”
“That’s smart because it’s the interest that—”
My lips are on hers and I do my best to pay my debt, plus interest. And ensure her dreams are of me.
The next day, our last day, I spend so much time finding reasons to touch Makenna, before I realize I don’t need a reason. She wants my touch. She lights up every time I take her hand. Or give her even the smallest kiss. And she especially seems to like it when I touch her hair.
I like it too. I like it all.
Despite spending much of the day together, Makenna is now inside my parent’s house, where she’s waiting for me to pick her up for the hospital gala.
I knock on the door and wait.
Mam opens the door, looking fit to burst with happiness.
“Good evening, Mrs. Robertson, I’m here to pick up Makenna.”
Mam chuckles. “Malcolm!” She smiles and takes me in. “You look so handsome.”
“Thanks, Mam.”
My dad walks into the room carrying a box of empty honey jars. “Malcolm. Lookin’ sharp, son.”
“I wanted to impress ya, Da.”
“We’ll not be the only ones impressed,” Mam says.
“Definitely not.” The sound of Makenna’s voice draws all our attention as she steps into the room.
She is stunning. A pure vision in dark green silk. The fabric flows around her curves like a waterfall, and I desperately want to run my hands along it to see if it’s as soft as it appears.
My eyes are glued to Makenna when my mam says, “You kids have fun,” and pulls my da from the room.
