Page 4 of Moonshine Kiss
“Don’t make me pick you up and put you in the car,” he threatened.
A really big, needy part of me wanted him to do exactly that. But I was no giggling schemer looking for some manipulated physicality. No, I was in this for the long haul. I wanted the white dress with Bowie standing at the end of the aisle looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Bowie,” I said with a yawn. “I’ve been carrying pepper spray since I was twelve and taking self-defense classes since I was eight.”
“I don’t care how prepared you think you are. I’m driving your ass home.”
Always the gentleman.
“I’m not telling you how prepared I am,” I said sweetly. “I’m telling you what I’ll do to you if you try to pick me up and cart me to your car.”
It was the wrong thing to say. I was tired and still a teensy bit drunk. That was my excuse for forgetting that Bowie was a Bodine. Competition and rebellion ran in his blood. His great-granddad Jedidiah Bodine had cornered the bootlegging market in West Virginia and most of Maryland. That drive to face a challenge and stomp it into the ground still ran strong in Ol’ Jedidiah’s kin even generations later.
In one swift move, Bowie tossed me over his shoulder and, whistling a happy little tune, strolled toward his SUV. The sidewalk swam under me as my stomach’s contents sloshed dangerously.
“Bowie!” Not above causing a scene, I hammered my fists against his back. I drew the line at kicking the love of my life in the balls, which is what I would have done to any other man who thought he could manhandle me.
He slapped me on my ass and made me squawk. My body went rigid. Bowie Bodine wascarryingme like my 5’8” frame was child-sized.Andhe’d touched my ass. I was torn between being delighted and appalled.
“Bowie Bodine, you put me down right now or I’ll make you regret this for the rest of your life!”
“Cassidy Ann Tucker, you’re not walking home all by your lonesome. You know that. Now be a good girl and get in the damn car.” He set me down on the sidewalk and opened the passenger side door.
Dizzy, I stumbled, and he caught me against his chest.
We’d touched before. One-armed hugs and high fives. Hair ruffles and headlocks. He’d been tossing me off of docks since I could swim. But this. This full-frontal, chest-to-chest contact was frying my circuits. I was in over my head. Every inch of him was warm and hard against me. The moonlight highlighted the clench in his jaw, and I wondered if I’d gone and pissed him off.
It hit me then in a blinding flash of understanding. Nineteen wasn’t adult enough to handle all of Bowie Bodine.
“Get in the car, Cass,” he said quietly.
I did as I was told, not eager to find out exactly what he’d do if I took off running in the direction of my house.
My pulse was galloping like a runaway pony when I settled into my seat. Ten inches of console separated us. I buckled my seatbelt with shaky hands. I’d dated. I’d had sex. But I was starting to realize that none of that life experience had prepared me forhim. He wasn’t a boy. He wouldn’t be playing games. And I was just a kid still playing them.
I wasn’t ready for Bowie Bodine.
If I was the crying type, I’d be sobbing into my sleeve right now. Instead I stewed as my hopes and dreams for the summer popped like bubbles.
“What’s wrong?” he asked gruffly.
My world was rocked. I wasn’t the confident, experienced grown-up I’d been peacocking around pretending to be.
“Nothin’s wrong,” I lied.
“Liar.”
“Just tired,” I said, staring out the window.
“You’d tell me, wouldn’t you? If it was something that needed fixin’?”
Oh, holy damn hell.I couldn’t stand him being sweet to me right now. Not when I’d gone and realized I had a hell of a lot more growing up to do.
“It’s not your job to be fixin’ things for me, Bow,” I pointed out.
He reached out and took my hand, and I got a hell of a lot closer to bawling. “So you know, if there’s anything that needs fixin’ you come to me. Got it?”
I stared out the windshield, refusing to meet his gaze.
