Page 28 of Bailey

Neither of them spoke in the last three or four minutes it took to get to Westinghouse, which stood only about a half-mile north of the big red barn that Bailey knew the Youngs rented for huge family parties and holidays. The restaurant sat in a parking lot with several other businesses, including a coffee shop down on the end that Bailey either visited herself or sent Marina to a couple of times each week.

Reeves pulled into the parking lot and then a space, took the truck out of gear, and turned fully toward Bailey. When she looked at him, she found nothing but kindness and acceptance in his eyes. It made her tears roar back into her eyes even louder and hotter. Had she known it would be this rewarding to tell him about OJ and Bryce, she wouldn’t have agonized over it quite so much.

“I lost myself for a while after we gave up OJ,” she said. “I knew it was the right thing to do. I had career goals, and Bryce was only nineteen years old. We couldn’t be a mother and father to that boy, but it still hurt me in a way I didn’t understand for a long time.”

He nodded and moved his hand from hers to tuck her hair behind her ear and cradle her face. “It’s the past, my pretty wildflower. It doesn’t matter to our future.”

Bailey blinked and sighed out all her breath before taking another one. “I think it does, though. Your past has helped shape who you are in the present. I lived a wild life in Montana,” she said. “And I did a lot of things I wasn’t proud of. It took me a long time to return to my roots, and come back to my God, and find myself again.”

“I’m sure it did,” Reeves said. “But you act like we both don’t have thirty-five years of experience beneath our belts.”

She looked up and met his eyes again. “Have you got things?” she asked, her voice timid and small. She couldn’t believe she hoped he had horrible things in his past the way she did.

“Of course I do,” he said. “Everyone does, Bailey.” He dropped his hand and turned to look out the windshield. “I’ll save mine for another time, all right?” He looked at her, hope brightening his expression. “I think this is enough for one date, and I don’t want to lessen what you’ve told me by trying to one-up you with my own stories.”

“I’m sure that’s not what you’d do.”

He gave her a small smile, ducked his head, and shook it. “No, but I still feel like this is enough for today.” He lifted his gaze to hers again, his eyebrows raised as well. “Is there anything else you want to say? We can leave it all right here in the truck and go enjoy a good dinner and something a little easier on the conversation menu.”

Bailey thought about it for a moment. “I don’t have anything specific right now,” she said. “But I want to be able to talk about Bryce or OJ or the Youngs at any time. If I have a new memory or something comes up and I want to tell you about it, I want to be able to do that.”

“Of course,” he said. “You can share anything about them—about anything—with me at any time.”

He leaned toward her, and Bailey found herself moving in his direction too.

“The past is the past, wildflower,” he whispered. “And it’s only important if we want it to be. I still think you’re smart, and beautiful, and wild, and free, and able to bloom anywhere you are.”

A smile filled her soul and touched her face softly. Her eyes drifted closed with how near Reeves had leaned, and he whispered, “I’m going to kiss you now,” right before his lips touched hers.

Pure fire poured through Bailey’s body. She pulled in a breath and pressed herself closer to Reeves, the hard outline of the truck’s console between them. He sifted her hair through both hands as he held her face and kissed her in a slow, passionate, mountain-man way in which Bailey had never been kissed before.

Yes, it had been a long time since she’d had a boyfriend—someone to hold hands with, share her life with, and kiss like this. She knew it had been a long time for him as well, but he sure knew how to kiss a woman so completely that everything else in her life disappeared.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

For the first few seconds of his kiss with Bailey, Reeves praised the Lord that he still knew how to do it. After that, he quieted his mind and focused on the softness of her lips, the silky quality of her hair, and the way they breathed together. Having learned to be cautious and go slow through many experiences in his life—including hunting and fishing, his outdoor survival skills training, and dealing with his father—he’d never moved very fast with women before.

In fact, he’d dated his last girlfriend for two months before he’d kissed her. Everything about Bailey made him feel strong and masculine, and like he was ready to run a marathon. He couldn’t stop kissing her, and she sure didn’t seem to mind as she continued to match her mouth to his and kiss him again and again and again.

She truly was wild and free, beautiful and spirited, and the best thing that had come into Reeves’s life ever. She broke the kiss, and he pulled in a mighty breath, his chest tight and his heartbeat crashing against his ribs.

He opened his eyes to find Bailey had ducked her head, and then she turned slightly and looked out the front window. Reeves did the same, and he found a couple of young men laughing and dancing away from the hood of his truck. Only then did his brain conjure up the sound of someone slapping the vehicle, and he realized that Bailey had heard it and stopped the kiss.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered as he positioned himself on his side of the truck completely and sat up straight in his seat.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Bailey said. When he looked over to her, he found her touching her bottom lip. She dropped her hand and then reached for her purse on the floor. “Do you still want to go eat?”

“I sure do,” he said. “I’ll come get your door.” He got out of the truck, which broke some of the tension inside, and he glared at the two young men who went into Westinghouse as he rounded the hood.

Great, now he and Bailey would have to see them in there. Hopefully, they would get their food to go, and he and Bailey would be able to enjoy their dinner in peace.

You could also get your dinner to go, he thought. And take her over to Swain’s Creek and eat out of the back of the truck. He’d thought through many options that would allow him to spend time with Bailey in a meaningful way, while also staying out of crowded locations.

It was Saturday night, and Westinghouse wasn’t one of the higher-end restaurants in Coral Canyon, but it definitely wasn’t outside of town either. They were closed on Sunday, and a lot of people came to buy their bread for Sabbath day meals or their fifty-percent off pastries after eight p.m.

Reeves opened Bailey’s door and extended his hand toward her. She then unbuckled, put her hand in his, and slid to the ground. “You look like you’re calculating something,” she said.