Page 69 of Flirting with 40

“I’m beginning to think us women need to break into the bar too.” She laughs. “Maybe then we’d all relax and bond some instead of always being on edge.”

I tug on her hand and pull her closer so I can kiss her right in the middle of everyone getting their stuff situated. This time, it isn’t for show. It’s because I want to.

Hell, I wanted to on the dock but told myself not to. She’s going to start thinking the only reason I asked to tag along is to have sex with her, and while I’m not going to lie and say that isn’t a bonus, it isn’t the real reason I came.

Sitting at home and waiting for Ivy to wake so that a decision could finally be made on whether I’d get to return to my residency was weighing too heavily on me. I needed a break.

She leans back when the kiss ends and the smile that lights up her eyes is worth everyone watching us right now. “What was that for?” she asks.

“For the dock.” It’s all I say before I grab her hand and lead her to the back of the makeshift movie theater.

It was for her silent comfort when I found out the latest on Ivy was more of the same. It was for her reminding me how lucky I am to have the parents I have and the upbringing I did, and for just sitting with me and watching the sunset with our fingers linked and no words spoken.

“You want all the way up here?” she asks as I lay out the blanket and then she tosses some pillows against the concrete wall for us to rest our backs against.

“Mm-hmm. It’s optimal viewing up here.”

She gives me a look that says she doesn’t buy it. And she shouldn’t because I don’t give a shit about watching the movie Horrible Bosses. I mean . . . the irony there is that Horrible Heather chose it.

Maybe she has a sense of humor after all.

It doesn’t really matter. I have other plans for us.

Like sneaking off to finish what we started earlier.

It takes a few minutes for everyone to get settled, and Blakely and I drape the huge Pendleton blanket over us. There’s a chill to the air tonight that makes her snuggle in closer against me, and I’ll take it.

Horrible Heather and her boyfriend, who I’ve nicknamed Dismal Dan since he refused to join us guys earlier today, stroll in right before the lights at the front of the amphitheater flicker to tell us the movie will be starting soon. Of course, it was perfectly planned for her to have center stage. Anyone who can’t see that is blind.

She gives her fake little finger wave to everyone, and then like a queen, she takes a seat in the middle. Perfect. She’s far away from us.

The lights dim completely, the movie begins to play, and people become settled.

“What happened today with her?” I ask quietly.

“Nothing that really matters.”

But there’s a discord in her tone that tells me differently. I lean over to whisper in her ear, and I love the hitch of her breath when I do. Affecting a woman is never a bad thing.

“I completed your dare this morning,” I murmur. “I do believe it’s my turn to pick the next one.”

Her laugh draws a few pairs of eyes up to where we’re seated. “You forget, I don’t accept dares.”

“I’ll convert you yet.” I run the tip of my nose around the shell of her ear and feel her body shudder in response. “You cold?” I ask when I know that shiver was so much more than that. “Come closer. I’ll keep you warm.”

And she does. We reposition so that she’s sitting between my spread legs, her back is to my front, and my chin is on her shoulder.

Of course, with my dick pressed against her ass, all I can think about is what we were doing when we were interrupted earlier.

My hands are on her waist, so I slide them beneath her bulky sweatshirt so that my thumb can rub aimlessly over the band of her yoga pants. She settles tighter against me, and her hands move to rest atop my forearms.

I let my hand linger there for a few minutes before walking my fingertips under the band of her pants.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs in mock protest, her body tensing as her fingers tighten on my arm.

“Making sure this movie is memorable,” I whisper in her ear. “And I can’t seem to keep my hands off you.”

Her only response is to push my hand lower in consent. And I do. I find my way between her parted thighs, hidden by the dark of the night and the thickness of the blanket.