Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“I’m drunk,” I tell him, like it’s some kind of warning.
“Aye.” He smirks. “Me too.”
We sway in silence for a beat, wrapped up in each other, the crowd around us melting into a blur of motion and candlelight.
Then softly he adds, “Lassie, I think you’re the most beautiful thing I ever laid eyes on.”
Well, shit . . .
I should push him away, shouldn’t I?
Instead, I clutch the front of his shirt like I never want to let go.
Lights twinkle above us as the melody plays, the band performing a mix of classic hits and popular new songs, currently playing “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” an achy, soulful version that has me wanting to pretend I’m in my own version of a love story.
“You’re trouble,” I whisper to him, because it’s all my brain can manage.
His hand slips lower, resting against the small of my back. “Aye. But I’m the kind of trouble ye dream about.”
Ye dream about . . .
I let out a shaky breath. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” I swallow. “I might believe you.”
He dips his head, brushing his nose against mine. “Then believe me. I don’t say what I don’t mean.”
God, I want to kiss him.
Really kiss him.
Forever.
His mouth hovers close, just shy of mine. His fingers flex on my back, like he’s waiting for a sign.
I tilt my chin up. Barely.
A breath between us.
And he doesn’t close the distance—he just looks at me, eyes soft and heated and full of everything I’m terrified to feel.
“I’ll never forget you in this dress,” he murmurs. “Or this night. Or the way you’re looking at me.”
Oh my God . . . If only Lucy could see me now. She would be so proud. Probably squealing with glee, encouraging me to go for it.
So I kiss him.
There in the middle of the dance floor at someone else’s wedding, champagne bubbles still tingling my lips and the edges of the world a lot bit fuzzy from tequila and too many shots and too much laughter.
I rise onto my toes, one hand still curled in the fabric of his shirt, and press my mouth to his like I’ve been waiting forever to do it.
He kisses me back.
It’s soft at first. Tender. The kind of kiss you need.
Then his hand slides up into my hair, his other arm tightening around my waist, and suddenly we’re not dancing anymore—we’re clinging.
Breathing into each other. Moving in sync.
His tongue brushes mine, slow and teasing, and I make a noise I don’t even recognize. Desperate. Greedy.
He groans against my lips like I’m ruining him for everyone else.
He’s just as drunk on this kiss as I am.
His hand still fists gently in my hair, angling my face to fit against his like we’re puzzle pieces that finally click. The world narrows—no music, no laughter, no guests swirling around us.
Just him.
Me.
He whispers “Fuck” under his breath, thumb brushing over the curve of my cheek tenderly even as his mouth claims mine in the most wicked way.
I’ve never wanted anyone more in my entire life.
Is this what lov—
No.
Can’t be.
Too soon.
Too fast.
The kiss sinks deep into my bones . . . steals the air from my lungs . . . leaves me gripping the front of his shirt with everything I have. He kisses me like I’m the only girl in the world. Like this is a competition and I’m the grand prize.
When we part, we’re still swaying—his arms tight around my waist, my head tucked into the crook of his neck.
“I don’t want this night to end,” I whisper, meaning every single word.
He presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Then it won’t.”
Chapter 16
Maverick
I have no idea how we get back to the cottage.
We stumble through the woods, giggling like teenagers, tripping over roots and each other. She trips once, curses, and I catch her—then keep her, hoisting her into my arms like some overzealous drunk groom wanting to carry her over a threshold.
Horny as fuck and twice as idiotic . . .
“Don’t drop me,” she warns, arms around my neck, grinning. “Don’t fall.”
“I’ve already fallen,” I say to the universe, boldly and without hesitating. “I could carry you around forever.”
In fact—I might! She’s light. And warm. And everything.
“I should carry you across the threshold,” I slur, starting toward the cottage.
“You should carry me to the lake. We can stargaze,” she says, smirking against my throat. “That’s what the hot people do.”
I nearly drop her. “Are we hot people now?”
“Obviously,” she says, deadpan. “We’re gorgeous.”
I laugh and shift her higher in my arms—but I’m sweating. Dizzy. The tequila is catching up with me, made more evident when her mouth latches onto my neck, sucking.
Mmm, feels so good.
“I feel like I’m floating,” she says at last.
“That’s because you’re drunk.”
“Or maybe it’s you.” Her fingers trail along my jaw. “Let’s get naked and go swimming.”