Page 7 of Dear Bookworm Beauty
“I don’t know.” I run my fingers into my hair. “I didn’t want someone else to find the letter.”
Grant surprises me when he laughs again. “Do you imagine there is a mad rush of people eager to read the journals of Josephine La Monte?”
“There could be,” I defend.
“I don’t know about that,” he grumbles under his breath. “Did you bring the letter with you? Here?”
“It’s in my bag in the car.”
“Okay, at least it's—" Grant starts to say but stops abruptly.
“What is it?”
“Do you see that?” he asks, pointing ahead into the trees.
I follow his gaze, but I don’t see anything that warrants this reaction from him. Grant takes my hand and starts leading me deeper into the woods, towards the river. My foot catches on a tree root, and I would have done a face plant into the dirt if Grant hadn't been quick and caught me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say, but my voice is barely above a whisper.
Heat floods in my lower belly, and I can't deny the attraction that’s flooding me at this moment. The feeling of Grant’s strong arm around me feels familiar, but that's not possible since this is the first time he's held me. So why do I feel like I'm at home?
I don't have time to ponder the question too deeply because Grant's attention returns to the woods. He doesn't let go of my hand, and he pulls me gently deeper into the forest before he stops us in front of a tall pine.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
He points up a bit at the trunk of the tree, and that's when I see it. It’s worn from time and growth, but I can clearly see initials carved into the trunk.
GAD + JLM
“That can’t be,” I gasp.
“I think it is.” Grant pulls out his phone and holds it up, so he can snap a picture.
“This is confirmation that Gad is real.”
“Gad isn’t his name but his initials. G.A.D. This is a clue that could actually lead us to find out who he was!” Grant scoops me up in his arms and spins me around.
I laugh both from excitement and surprise.
"I would never have thought you'd get so invested in this," I say when he sets me down but doesn't let go of me.
“It’s important to you. That’s enough for me.”
Grant leans down and brushes his lips against mine. If a kiss could be a question, this would be it. It says more than any words he could say to me. And I'm eager to answer him back with my own. I reach up and link my fingers behind his neck and pull him back to my lips. Grant can’t hold back the smile spreading on his face from ear to ear.
The kiss is still tentative at first, light brushes of his lips against mine, sending the butterflies in my stomach to flutter. But they go wild when his tongue licks my lips, urging me to open and deepen the kiss.
Without breaking contact, Grant leans down and lifts me, so my legs wrap around his waist, and he presses me against the very pine with the carving. I can feel that hard press of his cock against me, and the feeling sets my body on fire. A moan slips from my mouth just as a throat clears in the distance.
Grant pulls back, and we both turn to see Mr. Waters standing at the edge of the tree line with his back to us.
“Ms. La Monte asked that I bring you a message,” he calls over his shoulder to us.
I unlock my legs from Grant's waist, and he lowers me to my feet. I want to feel embarrassed, and I guess I do a bit, but that kiss was everything. I've never felt a fraction of what I felt with Grant with anyone before. Even with the cool breeze blowing, my skin still feels fevered from Grant’s kiss.
"We'll be right there," Grant calls over before turning away to adjust himself.
