Page 59 of Digging Up Love
A disembodied voice spoke from below. “Dr.Harris?”
Quentin held up his arm, squinting. Next to him, Alisha shot to her feet and stumbled back, jostling the stack of hay. The light swept around the hayloft, then swung upward to reveal a face ghoulishly up-lit like an actor fromThe Blair Witch Project.
“Dev?”
The light bounced jerkily for another second as he fumbled to shut it off. “Sorry, guys. I just—dang.” The light clicked off and left him silhouetted by firelight in the open door. “Um, how do I put this delicately ...” He scratched at his beard, the sound loud in the sudden stillness. “Erm, so ... Forrest is out front. Puking his guts out.”
Behind him, Alisha burst into giggles. Her laughter sounded a little unhinged, and no wonder—Dev had just caught them making out like a couple of high schoolers. The sucky, sucky irony.
“Poor guy,” she said, coughing the words out. “I’m not laughing at him, it’s just—”
“His own fault? Oh yeah, one hundred percent.” Dev cast a glance behind himself. “Might have been that second box of pizza he started in on. Or maybe the five s’mores. It’s pretty unclear.” He turned back around and hitched up a shoulder. “But since you’re our DD ...”
Alisha was already scrambling down, and Quentin slid down after her, straw pricking through his jeans at the back of his knees to join the pinpricks of regret needling his insides.
Their first kiss, interrupted by his grad student, of all people. Not how he pictured things going at all. And hehadpictured it, dreamed of this kiss countless times. The moment their lips met felt like the most delicious confirmation of every bit of emotion that lay tangled up between them.
When he dropped down to the creaky floorboards next to her, Alisha raised her eyes to his for a second, a blatant longing in their depths that matched his own. Then she dropped her gaze, reaching down to brush hay off her shorts, and the moonlit sight of her bare legs sent his heart pounding out of his chest all over again.
Without another glance, she swept out the door. Dev trailed after her. Quentin took a second to collect himself in the semidarkness, wishing she’d stayed behind. He stepped out into the night and found the fire had died down. Cool air enveloped him, and he hurried his steps, hoping for a chance to get Alisha alone before he left. But when he reached the fire, she was nowhere to be seen.
Cait sat cross-legged on the ground, laughing with the pizza guy. “If you’re looking for your lady”—she raised her piece of pizza over her shoulder, toward the house—“I think she went to give Bridget a hand with our drunken sailor.”
“She’s not my—” Quentin rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Okay, thanks.”
Brows raised, Cait said nothing but took a huge bite, her eyes on his. Trusting Dev to bring her along, he left the fireside in search of the others. Meg materialized out of the darkness, a bottle of Gatorade and a towel in her hands.
Despite the turn of events, he smiled. “You weren’t kidding about being stocked up.”
“You don’t even wanna know how many freezers I have.”
He laughed. “I should probably be creeped out by that statement, but since I grew up with a bonus freezer in the basement, I get it.”
Meg’s grin flashed bright in the darkness, and she passed him the supplies, which he accepted with a shudder at the ordeal ahead.
“She’s worth it, you know.” Her eyes shone bright in the moonlight. “I know Alisha’s not making this easy on you. But once she lets you in, it’s for good.”
For good?Quentin’s grip on the bottle tightened as he walked away. One taste of Alisha, and he was a goner. The desperate way she’d tugged him closer had left him undone, tumbling, spinning around in a current too strong to resist. But she remained fixed, a beacon, drawing him onward toward an unknown shore that somehow promised refuge.
CHAPTER 21
ALISHA
Alisha tugged a piece of hay out of her hair and inhaled the lingering notes of woodsmoke, then tucked a bonnet over her twists. Their kiss in the barn replayed in her mind on an endless loop. Quentin’s hands, rough with callouses but so gentle, caressing her face like a treasure. The firm hardness of his thigh under her hand when she yielded, finally, to the desires she’d fought to keep at bay.
His broken plea had roused something primal in her, chasing away her doubts until all that remained was Quentin and the solid reassurance of his body, the promise held in his kiss. The tantalizing slide into something new and lovely and absolutely perfect.
That is, until Dev barged in and killed the mood with a single sentence.
Alisha’s groan ended in a chuckle. Meeting her reflection, she covered her flushed cheeks. How was she still giddy after such an anticlimactic end to the evening? Quentin, was how. Shaking her head, she opened the medicine cabinet to get out her face lotion. When she’d stopped in the house on her way out, Meg had tried to convince her to stay, but between the intoxicating cocktail of moonlight and Quentin, she didn’t trust herself tonight.
Didn’t trust herself not to close her eyes and dive, headfirst, into a relationship with Quentin.
She smoothed moisturizer onto her face. Twenty-nine and just now meeting a man who made her feel seen. Whole. Worthy.
At times like these she missed her mom most. The sharp pain of losing her had dulled over the years to an ache, but moments of indecision brought her loss to the forefront. She needed reassurance, a steadying hand on this swaying bridge toward happiness. To be sure in opening herself up to Quentin, she wouldn’t be baring her neck for slaughter. Gulping, throat dry from the chilly night air and the campfire, Alisha padded downstairs to get water.
Lately all her emotions were simmering near the surface, threatening to erupt. Another reason she’d stayed away from men in the past. Otherwise, sentimentality bled into other areas of her life. Right now she needed to be clearheaded. She’d let her plans get pushed offtrack, or maybe she’d even been the one to pull the lever and divert the train herself.
