Page 52 of Out on a Limb
Tomorrow I could start fresh.
Tomorrow I would remember I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about anything but how to save the garden.
Tonight though…
Tonight I was thinking about how I wanted to climb Andrew like a tree.
I could maybe even do it.
I’d done it once already. All I needed was a ladder.
Maybe a step stool.
But instead of kissing me again, Andrew wrapped one arm around my waist and hurried me down the line of the fence toward the back side of the parking lot.
I shouldn’t be disappointed. At least one of us was worried about getting out of here without being caught.
Andrew leaned forward to peek around the end of the fence, looking up toward the large lot that used to fill with visitors nearly every day. “He must have parked up in front.”
“Of course he did.” I stepped out from behind the fence knowing Alan would sooner cut off a foot then walk a few yards across asphalt. “He’d probably park in the gift shop if he could get his Mercedes in there.”
I wasn’t a huge fan of Alan’s, even before tonight.
He hit on me the second I turned eighteen. Offered to buy me a house and a car and anything else I wanted, as long as I didn’t tell his wife.
Instead, I told my grandfather, expecting him to be as shocked and outraged as I was.
Spoiler alert. He was not.
He pointed out that I couldn’t expect men to ignore me when I dressed the way I did.
In shorts.
And t-shirts.
It was one of many problematic statements I tried not to dwell on, because if I did…
Andrew grabbed my hand, gripping it tight as he yanked me behind the fence, the width of his body crowding me back even farther. “If Alan catches us here—”
“If Alan catches us here, then we’re both out of a job.” Which we might be anyway.
Especially considering what I found in Alan’s office.
Andrew’s eyes moved over my face for a few long seconds.
Like he was looking for something.
Finally he let out a long breath. “Come on.” He peeked around the end of the fence once more, before pulling me out and across the well-lit lot. He took long steps that forced me to almost run in order to keep up with him.
“My legs aren’t as long as yours.” I tried to keep my voice low, but the whisper came out a little sharper than I intended.
Andrew turned to me, one long finger pressed to his lips.
Like I didn’t know we were supposed to be being quiet.
I pointed toward my legs then stabbed in the general direction of his before holding my hands out, palms facing each other as I spread them farther apart, trying to indicate how much longer his were.
Andrew stared at me, brows slowly climbing up his forehead as his attention dropped to my hands. He pulled down the front of the shirt glued to his skin.
