Page 65 of The Good Luck Cafe
“Mm.” She looked up into his eyes, heart racing toward her throat. They’d kissed the other night, so it felt inevitable that, on their first date, they’d kiss again.
Gil placed his hands on her arms and ran them over her skin to warm her. “I wish I’d brought a lightweight jacket for you.”
“It’s okay. I’m feeling pretty warm right now.”
His eyes seemed to sparkle. “Good.” The way he was looking at her told her he was thinking about the other night too.
“I’m glad you planned something private for us this evening. We don’t have to worry about Reva taking photographs of us kissing for her blog.” Moira’s cheeks burned as soon as the thought came out of her mouth.
“So, we will be kissing?” Gil asked with a growing smile.
“I was thinking we might,” she said, suddenly feeling dizzy with anticipation and nerves.
Gil leaned closer to her. Her heart dropped into her belly. Then, unable to wait for him to reach her, she crossed the distance and brushed her lips to his. Her body immediately melted into the kiss, and all her senses awakened. Every smell, sound, touch. His hands were still anchored on her arms, tugging her gently into the kiss and grounding her. His mouth was warm and relaxed, just like the kiss itself. Moira wasn’t sure she’d ever had a kiss quite so perfect, and she didn’t want it to end.
***
By the time Moira had gotten home, she and Gil had kissed twice more. The second time was at her front door before she’d let herself inside and bid him good night. He hadn’t suggested coming in or even looked beyond her door and into her home. He was ever the gentleman, even though her thoughts may have run slightly amok.
She wanted to take things slowly where Gil was concerned. The upcoming fall election was a huge hurdle that would eventually come between them. Right? Or maybe it wouldn’t. They were both adults. Perhaps they could let the cards fall where they may and still be friends, or more, at the end of all this.
Or maybe she was getting too far ahead of herself and should just go to bed. She changed into a pair of pajamas and slipped under her covers. Then she reached for the switch on her bedside lamp and twisted it, and the room fell dark aside from the sliver of starlight cast through her blinds.
She and Gil had enjoyed being under those very romantic stars. Staring up at the ceiling, her mind replayed the hours before.
For a long time after Felix had drugged her, she’d retraced every detail of their date, looking for the warning signs that she should have caught. There were none. Not that she could see at least. That whole experience had made her distrustful of every instinct she had. She was in a better place now. She trusted herself to find the people worthy of her time and attention and not to allow someone into her life who was going to hurt her. Gil wasn’t going to hurt her. Not intentionally at least.
Moira rolled onto her side, her mind firmly rooted in thoughts of Gil. Somewhere along the way, she drifted off into a dreamless slumber only to be startled at two a.m. by a loud bang on her door.
Moira sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake. The noise had been loud, and it had definitely been at her door. Was someone trying to break in? Right about now, Moira wished she had a good guard dog, or at least a dog with a ferocious bark to deter any intruder.
Climbing out of bed, she grabbed a metal baseball bat that she kept in her closet, and flipped on all the lights as she walked into the front room, clutching it as a weapon. She wasn’t just involved in student government in high school, she’d also played softball and had a good swing, if she did say so. She shakily stepped up to her front door and looked out the peephole, eying her empty porch, her driveway, and the road. No one was there.
She lowered her bat but didn’t budge for a long time, as if whoever had banged on her door would come out of hiding. Finally, she stepped away from the door and headed into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. There was no way she was going back to sleep tonight. Her heart rate was elevated, and her mind was whirring with possibilities, a result of too many true-crime books and TV shows. Instead, she was going to stand guard, just in case, and pay the price tomorrow when she would undoubtedly have a hard time keeping her eyes open.
Chapter Nineteen
Gil awoke to a sound at his front door. He groaned, and rolled to free his face from where it was smooshed into his pillow. One guess who was visiting at this hour.
He read the digital clock on his nightstand to see what time it actually was: 6:04 a.m. Aside from another arrest from Sheriff Ronnie—which he was not up for—the only person who would be ringing his doorbell right now was Doug. He considered ignoring the bell, but the last time he’d done that, Doug had gotten his hideaway key, let himself in, and walked straight back to Gil’s bedroom anyway. Sometimes Gil wondered why he’d moved next door to his family.
Gil sat up and yawned, patting Goldie’s head as she rushed over to greet him. Goldie must know who was at the door, too, because she wasn’t barking or acting like there was a burglar the way she typically did. “I wish you could go let him in for me,” Gil told Goldie as he stood and shuffled toward the front door, his eyes only open enough to make sure he didn’t trip over the furniture.
He opened the door and squinted at the bright sunlight that burst through along with Doug.
“We have a problem.” Doug walked past Gil.
Gil closed the door and turned to face his brother. “Is this about Moira?”
Doug sat on a stool at Gil’s kitchen island and propped up his upper body on his elbows. If he thought Gil was going to get straight to making sausage for him, he was mistaken. Instead, Gil headed over to the coffee brewer. Coffee came first. Always.
“Want a cup of joe?” Gil asked Doug.
Doug’s face scrunched. “Do you have orange juice?”
“You know I do.” Gil pointed at the fridge. “Help yourself.”
Doug got up and poured himself a glass of juice.
