Page 28 of Before the Storm
“I’m sorry your friend had to go through that,” Phoenix said. “It’s no way to live. I hope she’s in a good place now.”
“She is.” Janelle held his gaze. He was a smart man. She could only hope he didn’t see right through the lie.
“Good.” Phoenix reached for her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
“And go where?” she asked.
“Besides the police station? I don’t know. But I’m taking the rest of the day off. Maybe a boat ride. Anything to get our minds off what just went down.” Phoenix smiled.
“Sounds like a plan,” Louis said. “Call me if you need me.” He waved his hand over his head as he strolled down the steps.
“Are you okay?” Phoenix wrapped his arms around her, heaving her to his chest.
“Yeah,” she managed, resting her arms on his strong shoulders. She gazed into his deep blue eyes, losing herself in the moment. She’d watched so many romantic movies. She’d fantasized about having a man sweep her off her feet, knowing that none of that was real.
Only, Phoenix was flesh and blood. He was standing right in front of her and his lips were so close she could feel the heat pouring from his skin.
“Are you going to kiss me again?” she whispered.
“For the record, you kissed me.”
Before she could respond, his mouth covered hers in a hot, wet dance that ignited a flame deep in her soul. He lifted her feet right off the floor, holding her tight as his tongue gripped hers,dancing and swirling around like a tornado tearing across the plains.
Someone cleared their throat in the background.
Gently, he set her back down.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Nelson said. “But some of us have work to do and I need the office.”
He ran his thumb over her lower lip. “It’s all yours. We’re going for a boat ride.”
“Enjoy.” Nelson laughed. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Shut up,” Phoenix mumbled, taking her by the hand and guiding her down the steps. “Don’t listen to my stupid brothers.”
“I have one question about you and your brothers.”
“Yeah. What’s that?”
“Your dad mentioned on the way over that when you were kids, you’d have a lemonade and cookie stand.”
“Oh, good grief. He did not tell that story.”
“So, it’s true. You wore a dress, believing it would sell more cookies.”
He smacked his forehead. “I was five years old. Maverick was seven and Nelson was nine. Those two clowns told me one of us had to because people wouldn’t buy cookies from anyone other than a girl. They had me believing that for an entire year. Assholes.”
“You dad said there are pictures.” A warmth spread across her belly. This was what it was like to have real friends. To belong.
He paused midstep at the main door. “I will hurt my brothers if they ever share that picture.”
“Aw, come on. I bet it’s cute.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“A small boy wearing a dress is nothing short of adorable.” She stepped around him and opened the door. “It can’t be any worse than when I fell off the back of my daddy’s truck into a pileof horse shit.” She left out the fact that her father had pushed her because she wasn’t a godly child, but what difference did that make? The point was to share a story that could be remotely funny.
And a kid covered in shit should be funny.
