Page 23 of That Moment
Brooklyn makes a smug little noise and drifts off, sparing me from elbowing her. Milly hides a laugh in her wine. And then he’s in front of me, close enough that I catch the smell of the fresh beer on his breath.
“Evening, Barbie.” His voice is low, pitched just for me.
“Evening, Scotty.” I arch a brow, lifting the bottle. “Late as usual.”
“The horses had some opinions on dinner tonight.” His mouth tips slowly. “You look… good.” His eyes do a slow, lazy perusal over my body, causing my skin to break out into goosebumps.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t purposely wear a long dress with a slit that goes halfway up my thigh with him in mind. It offers just a little teasing glimpse of skin when I move just right… like right now. I step just so, the slit fluttering open, immediately drawing his attention away from my face.
“Don’t I always?” I cock my head, offering a coy grin.
“Mmm, trouble.” He shakes his head, taking another long pull of beer. “Like a poisonous snake.”
“Careful,” I warn, pulse thudding. “I might bite.”
His eyes stay on mine, and instead of laughing or looking away, he takes the opportunity to look at me with more lust in his eyes than I’ve seen in a long time. “Like some trouble I wouldn’t mind walking straight into.”
Heat slides under my skin, quick and dizzy. “You eat yet?” I ask, reaching for steady ground.
“Not yet.” His gaze still lingers. “You still coming Sunday?”
“Eight a.m.,” I confirm.
“Yes, ma’am.” The corner of his mouth curves. “Your Mustang’ll be glad to see you.”
Before I can say anything else, one of the younger cousins yells my name, saving me from collapsing into his arms and begging him to take me home. I sigh. “Duty calls.”
Scotty leans in a fraction, voice dropping. “Walk with me after.”
It’s not a question. I nod, casual like I’m not already buzzing. I hurry over to where I’m needed, my eyes constantly flicking back to watch him.
After I finish up, I walk back over to where everyone’s gathered, but I don’t see him. I walk around the fire to where a rough bench sits under the stars, far enough from the noise that I can breathe and spot him. He pats the space beside him.
“Saved you a spot.”
I sit, shoulder brushing his. The fire throws sparks up into the night sky, and for a moment, it feels like the two of us are the only ones here.
“You really think Axel can handle the fireworks tonight?” he asks, smirking.
I laugh. “Not a chance, but I made sure Ranger and Tyler don’t leave him alone with anything that could blow the place up.”
He chuckles, leaning back, the firelight painting his jaw with shadows. My gaze drags, cataloging every line I shouldn’t be staring at.
Dangerous,I think.So damn dangerous.
The bench is rough-sawn and warm from the fire. Our shoulders touch, separate, touch again with the faintest shift of breath. He’s relaxed back like he’s got nowhere else to be, thumb tracing absent circles along the bottle’s label. I pretend not to watch his hand and fail spectacularly.
“Remember when Ranger tried to jump the creek on a four-wheeler?” he asks, eyes on the fire. “Swore physics didn’t apply to him?”
“He landed in the mud like a sack of flour and then panicked when he realized he was going to have to call his dad.” I smile, settling into the easy cadence that comes naturally between us. We laugh, recalling memories from our childhood and easily talking about the most recent drama that’s happening in town.
The night hums, a moth butting itself silly against the lantern over the barn door. I hear one of the kids yell a tearful, “But I’mnot tired!” which every parent knows is code for I’m going to pass out in three minutes.
I tip my head back, the Aspen crowns fluttering slightly from the wind. My eyes scan the inky sky, looking for constellations. “That one’s Cassiopeia,” I say, pointing. “Vain queen. Liked to brag.”
“Sounds familiar,” he says, lazily.
“Watch it.” I elbow him, then point again. “Perseus. And over there, we have the Big Dipper.”
