Page 57 of The Best Kind of Bad

This is a woman who radiates power. Confidence.

The fact that she trusts me, that she climbs into the car without another word, sends a little thrill through me.

I slide behind the wheel and we both laugh at how far up she has the driver’s seat. Sliding it back so that my knees are no longer up around my ears, I start up the car and hit the road.

There are only ten miles between the reception and Gus’s place, but each and every one of those miles is sweet torture.

I call this time of day the golden hour. It’s that short window of time before the sun really starts to set and the whole world is cast in perfect, warm light. And out here, where you can literally see for miles and miles, it makes things seem possible.

It makes it seem like I’m in the exact place where I’m supposed to be.

Marnie sitting shotgun completes the picture.

I knew she was getting under my skin.

I knew she was different.

But this is when I realize she’s the missing piece.

She’s got her hand on my leg and she’s teasing, teasing.

She never outright touches me. Even though my shaft is lengthening, growing heavy, she manages to tease just at the perimeter.

Casual, innocent touches.

I think I might combust. Or drive us into a ditch. And I don’t ever want her to stop.

I don’t ever want her to go.

The words build in my core, forcing their way up, building and growing, demanding to be set free. “It’s only you.”

She’s got a light smile, tilting those plump lips when she looks over at me. “Hm?”

“Until you’re done with me. It’s just going to be you, Marnie. You don’t have to doubt that.”

I’m afraid to see how she’ll react to that statement, but I force myself to look over at her. Her gaze trails over my face, weighing me. After a while, she just nods. “Okay.”

Okay? Can it really be that easy?

“I’m sure, by now, you’ve heard stories about me.”

Her fingers stop teasing and connect, solid and firm on my lap. “I don’t listen to gossip.”

Something in my chest eases. Sings. “Still. I’ll go to the clinic. Get tested. I haven’t done that for a little while and I’m due, anyway. There shouldn’t be any questions in your mind.”

“I’ll get tested, too.”

With that agreement, it feels like we’ve passed through some sort of gateway. I’ve never had cause to have a conversation like this. It’s no declaration of love or anything, but I’ll take it.

Wrapping my fingers around hers, I raise her hand to my lips and kiss those smooth knuckles.

It feels like I’ve got hope cupped in my hands.

Streaked with dye and smelling like vanilla.

37.

Marnie

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