Page 76 of The Dating Game

Of course she’s quick to cotton onto the attention I’m paying him, and is highly amused by it. “Y’all look just like this couple on the cover of the book I’m reading,” she declares, sounding like Southwest Texas’ version of Belinda Lagman. “He’s awfully handsome, but of course you’re pretty as pie yourself. When’s the wedding?”

“Oh, thank you,” I say to Deedee. “But we’re not engaged.”

“Oh y’all are married already then?” she says.

“Oh, no. Just dating,” I correct even as my imagination flashes forward to me in a white dress gliding down the aisle to Will in a black suit waiting for me. Goodness. Getting ahead of myself much? Next I’ll be stepping into jewelry stores just to take a peek around.

“For now,” she drawls, tapping her index finger to her nose.

“Brooke, can you go grab another case of water bottles for the volunteers? There should be some cases in my office down the hall and to the left,” Simon, the food bank manager, calls over to me. “It’s getting hot out here.” He swipes at his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Of course,” I chirp, giving Deedee an apologetic smile. “I’d better go grab that.”

“Of course, of course,” she agrees, shooing me off with one hand. “I’m just fine standing here watching my kids have fun. Go on now.”

I turn and head into the building, grateful for the burst of cool air that hits me as soon as I walk in the doors. It really is hot out there today.

I head down the hall, automatic lights flipping on as I go.

“Hey, wait up,” a familiar voice calls down the hall just as I reach Simon’s office. I whirl to see Will jogging down the hall toward me, that easy smile of his in place.

“Hey.” I smile goofily back because there’s really no other choice: when Will smiles at me my mouth can perform no other action than to smile back. “What happened to hacky sack?”

“I told the boys I had to come help you with the water,” he tells me, coming to a stop next to me.

“You don’t think I can carry a case of water bottles by myself?” I ask, putting my hands to my hips and pretending to be affronted.

“Given the depth of your water obsession, I have no doubt that you can carry a case of water bottles by yourself,” he says. “I just don’t think you should have to. In fact I’ve given it a lot of thought, and from now I’m even willing to carry that ginormous water bottle of yours for you. I’ll be the guy who always makes sure you have water readily available. I’ll be like your own personal water boy.”

I laugh, my chest warming. “My own personal water boy, huh? I’ve never had one of those before.”

“Consider it my way of making up for not bringing you water on that bike ride of ours.”

“You already made up for that,” I point out. “Remember the electrolyte powder?”

“Fine,” he shrugs affably, “then I’ll just do it because I like you so much.”

I grin and step closer to him. “In that case, maybe I should start calling you Culligan.”

“Like the water company?”

I nod. “Hey, Culligan man,” I sing. Will chuckles, his gazetracking my approach.

“Have I told you recently how completely adorable I find you?” he asks.

“Adorable?” I plant my hands on my hips again and tilt my chin teasingly at him. “That’s not a very scandalous word, Will.” I look around and, feeling slightly emboldened by the deserted hallway I step even closer. “The other night you promised me I’d be scandalized.” I expect him to laugh. I am teasing him after all, but instead a fire appears in his eyes.

“Brooke Garza,” he growls, taking me by the waist, “I know I said no kissing this week, but I have my limits and you have officially pushed me past them.” With that said he moves me backwards through the door of the office, then captures my mouth with his.

His kiss is urgent and demanding, like he’s been thinking about doing this for some time now. His hands slide up my back and into my hair, stealing my breath with the sensation. I sink into him, clutching his shirt with my hands for a second, desperate to be closer still.

Will groans and heat swirls inside me. He moves his lips from mine to trace kisses along my jawline before returning to my mouth. His hands move from my hair to my waist, his thumb grazing a sliver of skin exposed by my raised arms, and I swear the very ground beneath us shakes.

Then shakes again.

Wait. No, the ground really is shaking. I pull away from Will, looking wildly around.

“Did you feel that?” Before he can answer it happens again. Across the small office the books lining Simon’s shelf shake and a paperweight slides off his desk, crashing to the floor. There’s another tremor and behind us the door slams shut at the same time a ceiling tile crashes down, bursting into a cloud of cellulose dust mere inches from me.

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