Page 66 of Honeyed

ALANA

“I bought Skittles because you said you only wanted popcorn, now you’re stealing mine,” I hiss at Warren as he tries to pilfer another handful of my candy.

“They’re addicting. And sweet. Kind of like you.”

Now the man has the audacity to plant his very large, very skilled hand on my thigh, too close to the inner portion that makes my skin sizzle with need.

“You’re ridiculous tonight, you know that?” I glare at him, but there is no heat behind it.

Well, I guess there is heat behind it, but it’s the kind that makes me want him to pull me into the back seat. Which is totally possible right now, considering we’re sitting in Warren’s truck at a drive-in movie.

“Something about being here just hits all the teenage fantasy boxes for me. We used to come here all the time, and I wanted you to sit in my passenger seat, but it never happened.” His hand is still on my leg, but we’ve both stopped eating.

“I remember burning with jealousy the one time you let Katie Newport sit in your truck.” I pout.

Warren brushes a fingertip over my diamond. “You do know you married me, right?”

“Still, teenage me mourns for the girlish dreams she had.” I flutter my lashes as if I’m a damsel in distress.

His hand wraps around the back of my neck and pulls my mouth toward his, the kiss starting slow and heated. Our tongues dance together, searching and entwined. This is the gesture of two soulmates, not two fumbling teens away from their parent’s supervision, and I’m almost glad I waited until now to go to the drive-in with him.

A car horn is the only thing that brings me back to reality, and when Warren and I come up for air and look over, old Mrs. Cotole and her husband are staring at us with disdain.

Warren waves at them and mouths sorry, then turns to me, and we crack up as we press our foreheads together.

“Damn, maybe we should have tried to get further under the football bleachers,” I joke, straightening in my seat as I pop another piece of candy in my mouth.

“You really are trying to make me keep this boner the entire night, aren’t you? Blue balls are bad for the soul, Al,” he chides, adjusting himself in his pants.

I pat his cheek affectionately. “I’ll kiss them better when we get home. Fuck, I’d give you road head right here, but I don’t think our elderly spectators would appreciate that.”

“Fuck,” Warren swears, his eyes snapping to me as they turn molten with lust.

A month has passed since Lily opened, and things are going so well that Warren dragged me from the shop tonight for a date. Because things going well means we spend every second and ounce of energy on the store; on stocking, assisting customers, selling, marketing, new inventory, accounting, payroll, etc. You name it, I’ve tried to master it in the last month. The two of us work around the clock to keep up, and while I’m basking in every minute of it, I’m glad he asked Mom and Liam to cover the shop with August tonight so we could get a much-needed break.

Chuckling at my cruel taunting of my husband, I finish off the last of my candy. “See, now I need chocolate. You should have bought me chocolate.”

He’s tuned back into the movie and talks without averting his eyes from the screen. “My mistake, baby. Let’s go get some.”

We get out of the truck and walk hand in hand through the rows of cars back to the refreshment stand. Really, I just needed to get out of the cab. Warren might show physical signs of his need to be inside me, but I was also lit up like a Christmas tree inside. If we didn’t take a food break, I’m not sure we would have made it through the movie without flashing the cars beside us. Something about being here is ticking all my naughty fool-around-in-public boxes as well.

The line for the refreshments has about ten people already waiting, so we hop on the end and turn around to watch the screen playing the movie.

Kate and Rebecca, our friends from high school, wander past where we stand waiting at the snack stand.

“Hey, you two.” Kate waves in a friendly manner.

“Hey, guys,” Warren and I say almost in unison.

Rebecca, however, looks shifty, and it’s very unlike her. It could have nothing to do with me, but once Warren starts talking to Kate about the upcoming Fourth of July festival, which her family usually takes charge of, I lean into Rebecca.

“Hey, you okay? You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.” I lay a hand on her shoulder.

She nearly does jump out of her skin. “Oh, jeez. Sorry. It’s just …”

Her eyes dart around.

“What? Do you need to get out of here?” I’m suddenly worried.

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