Page 92 of Grit
Melissa’s heart nearly stopped, but Cary didn’t say anything more. He just kept loading the truck. “Help me with the table?”
“Sure.” She flipped the table to the side, and they folded it and loaded it in the truck. Then they gathered the bits and pieces of their booths, tossed the trash in the dumpster, and walked back to the truck.
Cary paused before he opened the door.
“What is it?”
He gave her a small smile and held out his hand. “Can you spare five more minutes?”
She cocked her head but walked around the truck. “She’ll live five minutes without me.”
Cary linked their hands together, and they walked around the corner, cutting through an alley to get to the plaza near the old Fox Theater where a band was playing a slow song. A crowd had gathered, but Cary and Melissa stood on the edge, both in their work clothes, and he spun her around.
Melissa looked around. “Are we dancing?”
He nodded and pulled her closer. Cary pressed her against his chest and wrapped one arm around her waist while he took the other in his and kissed her knuckles as they turned with the music.
His quiet sweetness made her weak.
Cary smiled down at her. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“One song?”
She nodded. “One song.”
“Good.”
Melissa tilted her head up. “Kiss me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Right here on the sidewalk in Metlin? I’m shy.”
“We have to; it’s tradition.”
He smiled slowly. “That’s right, it is.”
Cary took her lips with quiet, devastating thoroughness, leaving no doubt in her mind that whatever he had planned for the following night would destroy any and all defenses she had remaining.
Melissa had been slipping for a while, but in that moment, on a busy street in downtown Metlin, she fell. Her heart landed at Cary Nakamura’s feet, and she prayed to everything merciful in the universe that he wouldn’t break it.
She broke off their kiss and slid her fingers into his hair, resting her head over his heart as they swayed back and forth.
Chapter Twenty
Friday was madness.The crew was finishing up the final renovations to the bunkhouse, Teresa was coming to the orange grove to finalize the schedule for her mandarin harvest, and Stu called her because the water pump for the lower pastures was acting up. If she couldn’t fix it, they’d have to move the entire herd up to the north pasture that afternoon, which would completely screw up her day.
Melissa was running around so much she couldn’t remember if she’d eaten anything. Maybe? Something around breakfast? Possibly?
She pulled off her gloves and shouted, “Okay, try now!”
Thankfully, this time when Stu flipped the switch, she heard the welcome gurgle of water coming up the pipes. So did the herd. They mooed and started moving toward the water troughs fed by the pipes that came from the storage tank on the hill. It would take some time for the water to make it down to them, but they were thirsty.
“I cannot wait for the rain to come.” She sighed and tossed her gloves to Stu. Then she mounted Moxie and put her hat back on. “You good here?”
“Yep.” He turned to the side and lit a cigarette. “Cooper’s is due for a break, so they’ll be good wandering round here till next week. We culling soon?”
“How many?”
