Page 72 of Hit the Ground
“I could stay here and kiss you all night,” he said, his voice strained with regret. “But then we wouldn’t get to have our first official date, and I’ll be damned if I miss that.”
I let my head fall against the door and cupped his bearded cheeks. “You’re right. If we don’t stop now, those flowers might become a made-out-at-your-front-door bouquet.”
He chuffed, lowering me to my feet. “Can’t have that.” He kissed my forehead. “Let’s get those flowers in water then hit the road.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Caleb took me to dinner in Laramie, which was nice. Then he took me to a bar to listen to live music, which was even nicer. Especially our seating arrangement. We were side by side on a padded bench, facing the small stage. Far enough away we could hear each other speak, but with a perfect view of the band.
Caleb’s arm was resting on the back of the bench, and his fingers trailed along my arm. Our thighs were pressed together, and when he turned his head to talk to me, his mouth grazed my ear. Being tucked in the cave of his body was so cozy, I never wanted to leave. But it also made me wonder how it would feel to sleep curled up with him, or what it would be like to have him on top of me, or behind me, or—
He brushed my hair behind my ear. “You look like you’re deep in thought.”
I smiled at him. If he only knew. “I’m thinking how much I like being close to you like this.”
“I like it too, Allie.” He grazed his knuckles along my bicep. “Feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
“Me too,” I agreed.
“You know,” he brushed his nose against my hair, taking time to inhale deeply, “I was jealous as hell when I saw you out on a date. I didn’t realize it, but yeah, that’s what I was.”
I blinked at him. “Really?”
“Mmmhmm. I wanted it to be me making you laugh.”
“Those were fake laughs,” I admitted. “That was the most awkward two hours of my life.”
“I’m sorry you had to sit through that, but not sorry at all it didn’t work out.” His lips touched my temple, making me sigh. “Have you done a lot of dating? Back in college or…?”
“Not a lot by any standards, but I’ve been on dates.” I shifted so I could look at him better. “Enough to know this one is the best I’ve ever been on. Though I’m not sure we can count this as our first date.”
“No?” One brow raised. “Why’s that?”
“I’d call dinner last week our first date.”
“But I didn’t bring you flowers. And my kid was there.”
“I think it still counts. And if we’re being precise, I’d also count when you brought me coffee on Tuesday and sat with me while I drank it. Oh, and when we both ate ice cream while we were on the phone Friday night.”
He cocked his head. “Those were all dates?”
“Yes.” His beard was slightly rough under my palm as I smoothed it over his jaw. “What about you, Caleb? How does this date rank for you?”
He pressed his face into my hand, his eyes closing for a moment. “I don’t know. I don’t remember ever going out with anyone else.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I know that’s not true.”
He lifted his big shoulder. “I’m not thinking about anyone else when I’m with you. But if I was, nothing would compare, so why bother expending the energy?”
“Well—” I had to take a moment to catch my breath and think of what I could possibly say to that. “Um…I guess you shouldn’t. That would be a waste of time.”
His eyes crinkled in the corners. “Glad you agree, Allie-girl.”
And just like that, I melted into him, as I had a habit of doing when I was in his arms. That I’d been in his arms enough to have developed a habit was pretty crazy.
He took my chin between two of his fingers, angling my face where he wanted it, and kissed me. His lips were soft but confident as they moved over mine. He tasted like the mint he’d had after dinner and…Caleb. I opened my mouth to sip from his lips and swallow his flavor, moaning as his fingers tangled in my hair, tipping my head back even more.
We kissed until my lips tingled and my toes curled inside my shoes. Until I was boneless and Caleb had almost hauled me into his lap. With no regard to the public—but blessedly dark—venue, we kissed like time meant nothing. His hands were in my hair, on my neck, down my spine. Mine were fisting his shirt, stroking the skin above his collar, tracing the curve of his ear.
