Page 136 of Dove
“Woah.” Josh caught and righted me effortlessly. Slipping his arm around my shoulders, he brought me in close under his arm. “I’ve never made a girl swoon before.” He sounded pleased and smug. Too smug.
I batted his chest at his teasing, ignoring the firm muscle under my hand, but he only chuckled before planting a kiss to the top of my head. Thank God he had me in his grip because that sweet, small gesture almost had me melting into the ground. I melted further as he kept me firmly in his grip, making sure I didn’t trip again as he guided me toward his truck across the clearing.
Before I could hop up on the tailgate, his hands curled around my hips and all but lifted me up to help me sit down on it. Ignoring how I could still feel his hands there even after he’d let go, I reached out to run a finger along one of the corners of a blanket that had been laid out. “What’s all this for?”
He was rummaging around in the basket. I watched with curious eyes as he pulled out a bottle of champagne.
“Because we haven’t gotten to be just Josh and Dove in a long time.” He began untwisting the metal wire from around the top of the cork. “And this used to be the spot where we could just be ourselves.” The champagne popped loudly as Josh opened it, making sure the cork didn’t go flying into the grass. It reminded me of those moments in movies when people cheered afterwards, celebrating life, or a new job, or something monumental.
Being here in this moment with Josh, just us and the lake to keep our secrets, certainly felt momentous enough to celebrate.
He presented a flute glass from the depths of the basket. With a satisfied grin, he held it out to me. The stem of the glass was delicate and slim, and I pinched it gently between my calloused fingers. I wasn’t the champagne drinking type but tell that to the butterflies that were going nuts in my stomach.
Once the glass was in my hand, he bowed slightly, clearing his throat to ask, “Champagne, miss?”
I burst out laughing at how ridiculous he sounded with the fake posh accent and my loud guffaw echoed throughout the clearing, startling a flock of birds into flight from a tree in the distance.
He kept up his charade despite my laughter, cradling the neck of the bottle with two fingers as his palm carefully tipped the champagne over into my glass with a concentration that told me he’d definitely googled that bit of information for this moment.
My heart swelled at the idea of him learning something new just to make me happy.
After my glass was filled, he broke character, chuckling as he poured for himself, his palm wrapped around the neck of the bottle without finesse. He clinked the rim of his flute to mine, then took a hearty swallow. I took a tentative sip. The champagne was sweet and bubbly on my tongue, and I immediately knew we’d be finishing off that bottle by the end of the night.
Something niggled at the back of my mind. It had since I’d spied the rippling water’s edge of the lake. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything,” he replied without hesitation. There went my heart again, melting like chocolate on a hot summer’s day.
“If this spot was ours…” I wavered, nerves grabbing hold of me. As much as I wanted an answer, I was afraid of what it might be. This spot, the precious time I’d spent here with Josh, it had meant everything to me. I wanted it to mean everything tohim, too. I steeled myself, ignored my apprehension, and carried on, “Then why did you invite everyone else to it?” I hid behind my glass, taking another sip.
He tensed. “What?”
“The parties we had here,” I elaborated, unable to keep the words spilling from my lips. “You’rethe one who started those. If this spot truly meant as much to you as it meant to me, why’d we stop coming here together? Why’d we stop hanging out altogether?” By the end my voice was a hurt whisper. Those Friday nights that used to be for us flashed back in my mind. I’d never expressed to Josh how badly I missed it, back when it had just been him and I vegging out in the living room, or how we’d sometimes escape and come down here instead, trading the glare of the television for the shine of a starry night sky.
Josh took our glasses and set them aside. He stepped closer into the V of my legs and I opened them wider so he could fit between them, my dress rucking up higher. His eyes never once dropped down. Instead, he kept them locked on mine, his hands reaching up to swipe the hair out of my eyes before he cupped my face with them.
“Doing that never took away from how much this spot meant to me.” His gaze bore into mine intensely. “And it had nothing to do with not wanting to spend time with you.”
“Then why?” I croaked, throat clogged with emotion. I blamed it on the champagne, regardless that I’d only taken a few sips.
“Because I couldn’t trust myself when it was just the two of us. I was starting to have feelings for you, and I was so damn worried you’d see it and hate me for it.” He rested his foreheadon mine, closed his eyes and sighed. A deep, weary sigh that rattled coming out; like it’d spent ages locked up inside his chest. “And the last thing I ever want is for you to hate me.”
“I couldneverhate you, Josh.” I met his honesty with my own. “I had feelings for you, then, too. How I feel for you… it wasn’t just something that sparked when you came back home.” My admission was quiet and tentative in the air between us. I wanted to say more. To admit I’d fallen for him a long time ago and landed straight at his feet with my heart outstretched in my hands, but that seemed a little too heavy, and a whole lot dramatic, so I held the words in. A part of me was still hesitant, afraid one day I’d find myself watching the red glow of Josh’s taillights fade through a wave of kicked up dust just like last time.
Instead of answering Josh took my hand and helped me slip off the tailgate, hugging me close. All my worries eased as he wrapped himself around me, and I inhaled deeply, taking in a whiff of my favorite scent. Woodsy. Masculine. Safe.Home.In his arms, I didn’t worry about anything. My heart was so full I could feel it thumping in my chest, beating a rhythm ofJosh, Josh, Josh.
A moment later, music played softly from a Bluetooth speaker sitting nearby, stealthily played from his phone.
“I know I have a lot to make up for,” Josh murmured to me. “So let me make it up to you.” He grazed his lips against mine, the tease of a kiss, and in a daze, I nodded. I’d let this man do anything to me.
We swayed lightly in each other’s arms, not quite dancing, but all it would take was effort on either of our parts to make it that way. I just wasn’t tempted to move out of his arms yet. Not when I was in my favorite place with my safest person.
The song changed over to something slow enough to dance to, the words a little too close to home but no less true. Hisarms positioned around me so he could take one of my hands in his, the other going to the small of my back, nudging me closer until no space was left between us as we swayed together to the music. He sang parts of the song in my ear, the deep rumble of his singing voice beautiful and soothing. It’d been years since I’d heard Josh sing, and emotion collected at the back of my throat.
Sometimes it was hard to believe this was real. Between all the heartache and loss, Ifinallygot to have something good to call my own. And his name was Joshua Hex.
I was nowhere near what you’d call a good singer, but he made me want to be. Instead, I mouthed the words into his collarbone, my head tucked under his chin as we slow danced.
One song bled into two, and I closed my eyes, just letting Josh take the lead. I didn’t need to concentrate on the steps or where we were going, not when Josh had me. Eventually he maneuvered us over to the dock, which creaked and groaned under our footsteps, the worn wood still sturdy despite its age.
