Page 24 of Love Songs

We drove back to the inn, mostly in silence, but the air felt charged to me. There was an energy bubbling under the surface and sparking between us, like we were on the brink of something amazing. If only we dared take that one step forward.

Conor parked and shut off the engine but kept his hands on the steering wheel instead of getting out—or telling me to go. He seemed as reluctant for our date to end as I was.

“Do you want to come in for a coffee in the lounge?” I asked, my voice breathy.

“Sure.” Conor smiled and I swear it was like the heavens opened and the sun’s rays shined directly on us.

Inside, we talked for hours, until my throat felt abused and raspy, and my words cracked. I knew I shouldn’t have been talking so much, especially after the show the other night, but I couldn’t find it in myself to call an end to our night. Not until Conor finally looked at his watch and gasped.

“I should get going,” he said with a note of regret I felt in my gut. “I’m on shift early tomorrow.”

My legs felt heavy as I walked Conor back to his truck. He stopped beside his vehicle and turned to face me. He might have been about to say something, but unable to help myself, I leaned in close, making my intention clear. Conor’s breath hitched.

“May I?” I whispered, and fire flared in the depths of his eyes.

He nodded without hesitation, and I pressed my lips to his.

A sense of rightness rushed through my veins, and my body tingled all the way to the tips of my toes.

Conor snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. I sank against his solid, muscular frame, his heat enveloping me the way his arms did. A deep rumbling moan vibrated between us, and I wasn’t sure whose lungs it escaped from. He moved his lips moved over mine, firm and confident and silky soft, and when he opened his mouth, I slid my tongue inside to tangle with his. I tasted the bitterness of the coffee he’d drunk, and the lingering sweetness of maple. Every cell in my body lit up like the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Square.

He pulled back, breathless, lips glistening under the parking lot lights. Which took me a second to comprehend. Our lunch date had blended into evening without my realizing it, and I mused on how I could extend it into an overnight when Conor stepped back.

“That was the best date I’ve ever had,” he said, his voice sounding ragged. Just like how I felt. But in a good way.

“Me too,” I said, my voice thready.

With a nod, he turned and hopped into his truck. He rolled the window down.

“See you, Dallas Blade,” he said with a smile.

I hope so. I raised a hand in a lame wave. “See you, Lieutenant Conor Holliston.”

After he drove away, I stood there in the parking lot, waiting until my knees felt solid enough to walk again.

I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here.

TWO DAYS LATER,I was still thinking about Dallas and that incredible kiss as I walked along Main Street. The little kick in my step was as strong today as it had been after our date.

The kiss had surprised me, even as I’d been wanting to do the same thing from the moment I’d spotted him standing in the Lakeside Inn lobby, waiting for me. He’d shoved his hands into his snug jeans, the motion pulling his fancy button-up shirt tight across his chest and revealing the edge of a tattoo on his left pec. He’d foregone the baseball hat but pulled his hair back into a loose ponytail. I’d still been angry with him for the fire and unsure what to think about him winning the bidding on me. Well, I’d beentryingto stay angry, but that was an emotion I didn’t much like to carry around. There was no point for it beyond the moment, and when I saw him standing there, all sexy and gorgeous with a surprising air of nervousness, and first the thing he did was apologize for the fire . . . My loose grip on that ire fled like an arsonist from the scene of the crime.

I hadn’t expected to enjoy our date as much as I did, either. Even with my best friends making appearances. Dallas hadn’t at all been the pretentious, self-absorbed rock star I’d thought him to be after the lead up to, and drama of, Founders Day.

And that kiss . . .

Holy fireballs, that kiss.

I could still feel the press of his lips against mine, still taste the lingering flavor of ginger on his tongue, still smell the amber and warm wind scent of his skin.

When was the last time I’d been kissed like that? When was the last time I couldn’t stop replaying a kiss in my mind? Never, that’s when. I didn’t date, because let’s face it, Caldwell Crossing was a small town, and I was pretty sure me and my best friends filled the gay population quota. Although that seemed to grow with the additions of Ben, Adam, and Phillip. But aside from a couple of guys I hooked up with when I ventured into Lebanon occasionally, I also didn’t kiss—except sometimes in the heat of the moment. Kissing Dallas, though . . . That had felt like a long time coming. Felt . . .neededsomehow.

I snorted and shook my head.

I’d just met the guy, so why the hell did my mind keep reading more into it than what it was: a nice kiss at the end of a nice day together? The reality of it was that we lived in different worlds. I was never leaving Caldwell Crossing, and Dallas was a rolling stone. Andwhoa! I needed to rein in my wandering mind. Anything more was moot, anyway. Dallas Blade had gone back to his rock star world, and the next time I’d see him would be on an album cover or in a music video.

I pushed Dallas out of my head as I pushed through the doors of Harmony Chocolates for a fresh supply of truffles, the bell tinkling above as I entered. The guys at the station loved them as much as I did—and I seriously loved Haider’s truffles—so I made my way over to stock up at least once a week when I was on shift.

Crocus, Haider’s manager, smiled as I approached the counter.

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