Page 42 of Always Meant for You
Mabel clears her throat and lifts the water glass with a deliberate air. “If there’s nothing else, I’d prefer to finish my beverage before my father arrives. So . . . goodbye.” She lowers the brim of her hat, cutting me off.
There it is. That clipped tone she uses when she’s scared of what might slip through.
I plant my hands on my belt buckle and hold my ground. “Your dad sent me to get you, Mabel.”
She flips up the brim. “What?” The word cracks on her tongue, her eyes wide and blazing.
I hold her gaze. “He said there was a pickup at the diner. I thought I was coming for a casserole.”
A flush creeps up her neck. “I’m not going with you, Cal Horner.”
I survey the two suitcases nudged against the side of the booth, then take in her shoes.
“What’s your plan? Are you going to haul your luggage up a country road in those heels?”
“They’re vintage Christian Dior,” she snaps, rising to her full five-foot-nothing glory with a clickety-clack of pure attitude. “I can do anything in them.”
The shoes give her height, but I still tower over her.
“They’re impractical for this situation, Mabel. Between the potholes in the parking lot and loose dirt, Mr. Christian Dior won’t get you five steps.”
“You want to bet?” She lifts her chin in defiance, but the wide brim drops, shielding her eyes and ruining her badass vibe.
I reach down to tilt the brim up, and my knuckles graze her cheek.
Our first touch in four years.
Heat spikes under my skin, fast and unforgiving. My memories blow wide open—too many moments buried, too many wants denied. Every inch of restraint I’ve held teeters on the edge.
Mabel’s breath hitches.
Mine stops dead in my chest.
We’re locked in a silence stretched tight, ready to snap. Those sky-blue eyes hold steady, daring me to move first.
And I break, quietly and completely.
I cup her face in my hand. Her skin is warm beneath my palm, and every buried desire rises to the surface.
She doesn’t blink. Neither do I.
My hand stays there, holding her steady, holdingmesteady—while everything else threatens to crack wide open.
And heaven help me, I’m about to kiss her.
Chapter Nine
CAL
“Why’d you come back, Mabel?” I whisper, the words scraping through my throat, rough and tight.
Her cheek presses against my palm, and I skim the pad of my thumb along her jawline.
She leans in.
I’m not sure she even knows she’s doing it.
I don’t care. I’ll take it.
