Page 44 of Resisting You
I nodded. “She made averyhandsome Juliet to my Romeo.”
“Handsome? Poor Mrs. McGinty.” Dimples appeared at either side of her mouth with her ringing laugh. The sun highlighted her bright eyes, turning their usual molten brown gold. She looked up at me, her lips parted slightly.
“What are the chances we could try that kiss again?” I asked, dragging my hand to her jaw and running my thumb across her dimple.
“Only if you promise toneverdescribe me as a handsome woman.” Her eyes flared with humor, then drifted shut as I stepped into her, my hands lowering to grip her waist.
“Easiest promise ever,” I whispered, lowering my mouth to hers.
My heart raced as our lips met, a searing kiss that set off fireworks in my chest. She opened her lips to mine, gliding her tongue along the seam of my mouth with a demanding moan that spiked my heart rate. A growl tore through my chest as her fingers dug into my biceps, leaving little half-moon marks on my flesh.
Every cell in my body frantically wanted more of Rosa. More lips. More tongue. More hands. More flesh. A breeze skimmed by us through the window of the treehouse, reminding me that even though this was my special spot and more private than thecenter of town, we were still in my family treehouse where Callie or my mom or even Maddie could come by at any minute.
I forced myself to pull away and climbed back down the base of the tree first, then helped Rosa down off the ladder.
Above us, leaves drifted down, floating on the breeze like surfers catching a wave; falling lightly around us like snowflakes, blanketing us in this moment until it felt like we were all alone in this beautiful world.
I leaned in and gave Rosa another short, but sweet kiss on the lips.
“Quack!”
Rosa came out of her haze, startling at me. “Did you just quack at me?”
“You think I’d quack at you after a kiss like that?”
“Well I don’t know.Someonequacked!”
A laugh bounced in my chest, shifting the mood right as a family of ducks and several ducklings came waddling out from beneath the dock.
"Isn't it a little late in the season for babies?" Rosa asked, stepping closer to them for a better look.
"You'd be surprised. A lot of birds nest a few times as soon as spring begins. I bet that's her second set of hatchlings this summer. Look, see you can tell the ones that are older."
Her brown eyes flashed, brightening with excitement. Her love of animals was one of the many things that drew me to Rosa initially. I reached into the donut box and pulled out the donut holes Neil had tossed in there for us.
Bending down, I broke the first donut hole into small bits and tossed them toward the ducks. One by one, they quacked in delight, waddling their little webbed feet over to us and wagging their tails in appreciation.
"I bet they would literally eat right out of the palms of our hands if we let them," Rosa giggled as a baby duck quacked and waddled around her ankles.
"Wait a minute..." I squinted, looking at a little white and tan ball of fur that was circling the mama duck. "That's not a duck."
Out from behind the mama duck, a small puppy came limping over to us. His leg seemed twisted and deformed, but he didn't seem to be in a lot of pain as he limped and played with the ducklings in the group.
"It looks like the ducks adopted him," Rosa said. "C'mere little guy." She held out a bit of the donut to the puppy. He ambled toward us playfully, taking the donut from her fingers and letting us pet his filthy head. “Do you think someone is looking for him?”
“I doubt it,” I said, reaching out to pet him. Judging from the way his leg had set long enough to heal incorrectly, I was going to guess no one had been looking for him. At least not for several weeks. More likely, he was probably born feral and I didn’t want to think about what might have happened to the rest of his family and siblings.
Although, nothing about his demeanor seemed feral. He bounced right up to us, happy, friendly, and ready to be pet.
“He looks like that dog from that old TV show…”
“Wishbone?” I asked.
She grinned at me. “I was going to say Frasier. But Wishbone works, too.”
The little guy impressively lifted onto his hind legs, placing his one good front paw on my shin, tail wagging and looking up at me with hopeful brown eyes. “You want more?”
I broke off another bit of the donut, feeding him. He couldn’t have been more than eight pounds, soaking wet.
