Page 130 of Always Meant for You
“Not without clearing out every sharp object on the property first,” I tease.
I lift her chin and hold her gaze. The current between us is real, but what’s pulsing beneath it is steadier than heat. There’s a presence here, and a clarity I haven’t felt in years. She gave herself to me. And I want to be her last. When I picture my future, all I see is her.
“Cal?” she says, drawing me back.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been thinking. Once the town is stable and we know the momentum holds, I want to tell my dad about us.” She peersdown at her boots. “He gave these to me, and I feel like he’s trying to connect. That was a big step for him. I want to be more open with him.”
It’s hard for me to contain my joy. I know her passport is in her purse, but wanting to tell her father about us is a big step. She wouldn’t suggest it if she were planning on leaving.
“But maybe we should wait a little longer before telling anyone else that . . .”
“That we care deeply for each other,” I finish. Of course, I want to say love, but I hold back.
“So, you’re sweet on me, Callan Horner?” she teases, though there’s a thread of hesitation in her voice.
I cup her face in my hands. “You’re all I see, Mabel. You’re all I’ve ever seen. No matter where I am, my heart keeps reaching out to you.”
“There’s that romantic,” she says, smiling up at me.
“And now, this romantic would like to kiss you before the town swallows you up and pulls you this way and that.”
“I’d like that,” she says softly.
Then a damn horn blasts through the quiet.
We pull apart. And for what feels like the millionth time today, my heart nearly explodes.
Kenny’s leaning out the truck window, waving. Abe’s in the passenger seat.
“We’re ready to roll, Cal. You two okay? Do you have something in your eye, Mabel?” Kenny asks.
Sweet Jesus.
“Yes, I got dust in my eye,” Mabel says, not missing a beat. “Cal was helping me get it out. That’s it. Nothing more.”
I clap fake dust off my hands. “Dust situation under control. Your eyes are as good as new, Miss Muldowney.”
Did I seriously say that? What am I, a frontier medic?
“We’ll see you at the market, guys,” she adds. “We’ll be right behind you.”
The truck pulls away, the trailer packed with produce, squeaking and rumbling as the tires crunch down the driveway.
Mabel exhales. “That was close.”
I step toward her, one hand finding the curve of her jaw.
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t move back. “Cal, my eyes are fine.”
I draw the pad of my thumb beneath her bottom lip. “I know, and I’m not concerned with your eyes. I’m worried about your lips. They seem to require a kiss.”
“You would be the expert,” she says with a coy grin.
I kiss her again, drawing her in until my pulse stops rattling and my heart finds its rhythm.
She sighs, then eases back. “We should go.”
