Page 77 of Until Then

When I’m finished and have given Wonton a few scratches, I slip outside and into the shadow of his tall, wide frame.

Small and feminine, that’s how I feel around him.

I want to put my hand on his chest, stand on my tiptoes, and kiss him. And with anyone else, I probably wouldn’t hesitate. But Derrick makes me nervous. He turns me into a giddy teen girl again, like I’m going on my first date.

With a hand on the small of my back, he guides me to the truck and opens the door. He waits for me to strap the seat belt across my chest before he shuts it.

Once he’s buckled in beside me, he starts the truck and turns the radio down when it comes on blaring.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, backing out of the driveway.

“Starving.”

I haven’t eaten since the grilled cheese we shared earlier and after the insane number of calories we burned, I’m feeling it.

He reaches over and laces his fingers with mine, making my heart jolt with excitement.

Everything between us changed today.

I think we’ve both always known that if we crossed the line, it would be more than sex.

We don’t talk much on the drive to the pier. It’s a beautiful, warm evening. The breeze smells like sun and salt, and the sky is already beginning to turn a warm shade of orange.

I reach for the door handle, but before I can push it open, Derrick squeezes my hand.

“No,” he says, throwing his own door open. He rounds the hood of the truck, walking tall, confident. God, he’s gorgeous.

He offers me a hand to help me out of the truck. I’m grateful for it when my heels wobble on the gravel lot.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little out of practice.” I pick up one heel-clad foot and wiggle it.

He closes the truck door and locks up before taking my hand and guiding me over to the paved walking path that leads to the pier.

When he angles in close, I swear he gives a small sniff.

“What?” I ask, tugging a piece of hair forward. I inhale deeply, worried that it smells. I don’t know how it could since he’s the one who washed it for me this morning. “Do I smell bad?”

“No.” I swear his cheeks go the faintest shade of pink beneath his scruffy beard. “You smell really good, actually.”

“Oh.” Warmth floods me. “Thank you.”

“You know,” he pulls me to the side suddenly, “we should talk about something before we do this.”

I press a thumb to the lines between his brows, wishing I could erase the concern I see there. “What?”

He inhales sharply, then presses his lips together like hewants to hold whatever’s on his mind inside but knows he needs to spill.

Jaw flexing, he lets go of my hand and runs his fingers through his hair. As he lets the longish, wavy strands fall over his forehead, my stomach rolls with uneasiness. We didn’t come this far for him to get cold feet, did we?

“I want to do this,” he starts, meeting my eye. “But this is a small town. Your sister… my son and daughter… they’re going to know at the speed of light. Are you okay with that? If you want… if you want to keep this… me… a secret, I’ll understand.”

Heart aching, I put my hand on his cheek. It’s warm, and his stubble is rough against my palm. “You’re not a secret to me. But…” I swallow back a wave of trepidation. “Do you want to keepmea secret?”

He wets his lips and slowly shakes his head. “No. I’m scared, Izzy. I really am. But no, I don’t want you to be a secret.”

“Good.” I kiss the corner of his mouth, finding it almost easy to reach in my heels. “Now let’s go. I’m starving.”

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