Page 9 of Redwood Blaze
I nod just slightly. “Thanks, Cole. You’re in charge. Well, along with Mr. Phoenix here. You guys have a great weekend.” I grab my satchel and duffel and head toward the door.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it.
Daylight is running out and I’ve got a thirty-minute drive to get to the cabin… actually, shack. I’ve been there once before when Mr. Himbaugh invited me to go fishing in the pond out back. It’s one room with a curtain separating the bathroom from the living area. Not exactly quaint or cozy, but it’ll work. It’s secluded and if you don’t know where you’re going, you’ll drive right off the mountain before you get there.
Rusty follows on my heels. “You’re going on vacation?”
It’s not resonating well with any of them and visibly, they’re concerned, but I can’t stop to make it clear.
“Just a couple days.”
“But… what about…” He follows me out the door.
I throw my bags into the back seat of my truck and reach for the doorhandle.
“Is this about… us?” he says softly, his hand covering mine on the handle.
I wish it was about us. I wish therewasan us. But there can’t be.
I plaster on the smile that reads fake in the window of my truck, but I turn to face him. “I need some space to think about things.”
That isn’t a lie.
He stands stoic, but in his next breath, releases my hand. “Where are you going?”
“Cole has all the details.” I open the door and climb in, turning it on, the familiar rumble settling me. I roll down my window and he uses the running board to hop up to be face to face with me.
“This isn’t over, Millie. You… me… I know we’ve been doing a two-step around each other, but I want to dance with you.”
Every word sinks into me.
I want that, too, but now is not the right time, Rusty.
Screw the rules.
Screw my need to be a good girl.
Screw it all!
I don’t stop myself. I lean through the window and my lips crush to his. He holds on to the rearview mirror and his other hand slips behind my neck, turning my head to his will. I whimper when his tongue darts out to ask for permission to play with mine. I don’t deny him because at this moment, I couldn’t stop even if a meteor was headed right for us.
I meet him in the middle and our tongues dance, twisting like a fine Latin samba.
Quick and then slow.
Twirling and spinning.
Sensual and emotive.
It’s like he’s begging me to stay in a kiss.
I pull back, my breaths ragged, like his. “I’ll be back.” I rev my truck before putting it into gear, and he jumps off.
There’s no “See you later” because it might not come true.
He gives a wave and I tear out of the gravel parking lot like the devil is on my heels.
He probably is…
