Page 176 of Ransom

I tumble over the edge, my body convulsing around him. He follows me, his body tensing as he finds his release. We cling to each other, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths ragged.

As we come down, he presses soft kisses to my face, my neck, my shoulders. I laugh, squirming under the onslaught. "Stop, stop. That tickles."

He grins, propping himself up on his elbows. “I love that you didn’t grow out of that. I’m so glad some things never change."

I stick my tongue out at him, and he laughs, capturing it in a quick nip. "Some things do, though. Like this. Like us."

I nod, my fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Yeah. Like us."

He carefully rolls us until he's underneath me and pulls me into his chest. He tugs off the condom and deals with it. It’s probably somewhere on the floorboards. My ass is out, the cool breeze from the open door brushing over it. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. We lie like that for a long moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths slowly returning to normal.

"We're going to be okay," I murmur. It's not a question anymore. It's a statement. "I want Maggie to be okay. I want her to be around for a long time. But if the worst happens, we'll be okay."

Ransom cups my cheek and runs his thumb over my lips. "Yeah, baby, we'll be okay. No matter what."

A crunch of gravel breaks through our blissful haze. My head snaps up. "Shit! Car!"

Ransom's eyes go wide. "Where's my shirt?"

I scramble for my clothes, nearly kneeing him in the groin. "Floor! I don't know! Where else could it be?" I yank my jeans on, wiggling around on the seat.

We bump heads as we both dive for my bra. Ransom rubs his forehead, laughing. "Ow! Your skull's made of fucking concrete."

"You were more coordinated when you were fifteen!" He gasps, looking betrayed. Biting my lip, I yank my shirt over my head, inside out.

Ransom hops on one foot beside the truck, trying to pull his jeans up. He slams into the door. "Jesus! Fucking hell!"

I'm still looking for my other shoe when headlights sweep across us. We freeze like deer, then burst out laughing. Through the windshield, I spot an old Chevy truck, not unlike Dad's.

Two teenagers peer at us from inside, looking mortified. The boy behind the wheel has his mouth hanging open.

Ransom, finally dressed, gives them a knowing look. He makes an exaggerated motion of locking his lips and throwing away the key.

"Oh god," I snort, crawling across the seat and hiding my face in his shoulder. "We're those people now. The old perverts at makeout point."

"Speak for yourself, grandma. I'm in my prime." He waves at the kids as we resettled ourselves in the cab.

I tug on my shoe, still giggling. "Your shirt's on backwards."

"Your hair looks like you stuck your finger in a socket."

"At least I found both my shoes."

He glances down at his feet. "Ah, hell."

After unsuccessfully scrambling around to find the missing shoe, we pull away, leaving the teenagers to their evening. Ransom's hand finds mine across the seat, and I can't stop smiling.

"Worth losing a shoe for?" I ask.

He brings my knuckles to his lips. "Worth losing both shoes, both socks, and my dignity."

53

BLAIR

Late morning sunlight streams through the lace curtains of Mrs. Winston's B&B. I trace lazy patterns on Ransom's chest, enjoying the quiet morning. Getting kicked out of the house could have been worse. This bed is comfortable, but it’s Ransom that makes it so perfect. We could be in a tent on the hard ground, and I'd be happy. That's a scary thought, but also a really comforting one, because he's not going anywhere. He loves me. I love him. And we're a team.

The rest of it will work itself out. Maggie will come around, or she won't. And it will kill me if she doesn't. But Ransom will still be here.

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