Page 61 of Best Friends for Never

Except I don’t move. I can’t. Not yet, and not just because my cock is still straining against my slacks. It’s more like I can’t because I know as soon as I let her go, this moment is gone, and I’m not so sure I want to lose it yet.

I step toward her, my body snug against hers once again, and suddenly, everything feels right in the world.

“Noel . . . ,” she says breathlessly. “What are you . . .”

I swallow her words, careful to keep my hands tucked by my sides so I can’t slide them through her hair and we have to start this whole process over again.

I just need one more kiss. One more taste. One more minute of her being all mine.

I let my lips linger against hers until I can’t any longer, and only then do I finally step away for real this time.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four.

I need distance or we’ll never get out of here.

She’s sagged against the wall again, eyes squeezed shut as she tries to regain her breath once more.

She sucks in one last deep breath before brushing past me on shaky legs.

I grab her wrist as her hand lands on the doorknob.

She turns back to me, lifting her brow in a silent question.

“We should talk.”

She swallows harshly. “Okay.”

It’s one word, a simple answer, and then she vanishes through the door and into the night.

I stand there for several minutes, staring at the spot she just abandoned, trying to talk myself down. Trying to figure out where the hell we go from here.

When I know I can’t stay gone any longer without risking someone coming to look for me, I step back into the party smelling of peppermint and Parker.

The Restoration Raffle is an official success, and we’ve only just started on the bachelor biddings.

The last I looked, we were up over $20,000. It’s not the huge pot I’ve seen at other charity events and raffles I’ve attended, but for Emerald Grove, this is as big as it gets.

I’m not surprised that Parker is leading the pack. It’s easy to get swept up in her and fall for her charm. It’s no wonder people are clamoring to empty their pockets tonight.

“All right,” she says into the microphone with a wide grin. To most, she probably looks completely put together and completely focused on the task at hand.

But to me? I can see where my hands played in her hair, spot the wrinkles on her dress where my fists held it up, and there is no mistaking the little red spot on her neck where my lips were attached.

Not to mention that every time her eyes scan the crowd, they linger on me for just a moment too long.

“Next up, we have Clifford Daws. Most of you might know Clifford as our resident go-to man for any and all things greenery, but tonight, he’s offering up a special evening with him. You get to pick the day, and Clifford will take you to Lake Cushman on his boat for a romantic day on the water. We’ll start the bidding at fifty dollars.”

“Fifty?” Clifford says loud enough for the microphone to pick up. “I’m worth at least a hundred, dammit.”

The crowd laughs, and Parker does her best to stay composed as she smiles at everyone.

“Well, then, folks, I guess we’re starting at a hundred.”

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