Page 37 of Moonstruck Kiss

“Morning, Dimple.”

I’m sure my lone dimple deepens at the warm gaze Brax throws at me. I’m thrilled he’s here so early but I don’t want to appear too eager.

“Ollie’s excited for today, is he?” I approach the car’s passenger side where Ollie usually sits.

“No, he’s not here yet. He had a sleepover at his grandparents’ last night. I’ll pick him up in a couple of hours.”

“Oh. What are you doing here, then?”

Brax opens the car boot and takes out a picnic basket. “You mentioned yesterday that you’d be here at sunrise. I thought I’d bring breakfast for the two of us. Have you eaten?”

I shake my head but my insides are doing an Ollie-type dance.

Brax grins. “Good! I was hoping that’s the case. I picked up a few things from The Only Bakery. I didn’t know what you’d like so I got a few different ones. We can always finish them throughout the day.”

Oh, yeah, my heart is shaking its booty now.

“Where do you want to eat?” Brax looks around. “I thought it’d be nice to soak up the early morning sun. I have a picnic blanket with me.”

My eyes narrow playfully. “Why do I have the feeling you’re trying to butter me up?”

“For what?” he asks innocently.

I lift a shoulder. “You tell me.”

“Maybe I want Ollie to win?”

“He’s already a winner, remember?”

“Oh, right. Well, maybe I just want to kill some time before I pick up Ollie. And what better way to show gratitude to his art teacher than by bringing her breakfast?”

I smother a grin. “Why don’t you come out with the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”

Brax’s lips curve in a smile that, I swear, has the power to make me self-combust. “You want me…” he says in a declarative tone, “to spell it out?”

I snicker. “Hey, I’m just joking.”

Argh!Why do I do that? I just can’t seem to handle sustained flirtation with this man even if I’m totally enjoying it.

He shakes his head. “Toying with me again, I see. So where would you like to eat?”

I point to a grassy area bathed in the morning sun where we’ll also be able to spot cars arriving from a distance. “What about there?”

“Perfect.”

“Do you have hot drinks? I have a thermos full of coffee in the barn.”

“I have everything.” Brax pats the picnic basket.

We walk together, and the desire to reach for his hand is so strong that I have to physically restrain myself.

Maybe I should just be frank with him. Wasn’t that what the sexologist said in her article? To let go of inhibitions and to not only be vocal but also honest about what I want?

And I really want Brax. I just hope I can trust him with something so deeply personal.

“This is nice,” he says as we lay out the picnic rug.

We sit, and I open the basket he brought. “You could feed all of the Art Fun Day participants with this!”

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