914 Bittersweet Ln. (A Cherry Falls Romance)

"I guess that's a good thing, right?" I ask.

She nods, "I guess, but I know that there are a lot of women around who are a little annoyed about that. So maybe you’re what he was waiting for."

"I'm Paisley," I say, introducing myself.

"I'm Layla," she says. "I work in Kissme Bay. I don't think we've ever met, but I've..."

I exhale. "You've heard about me?"

She nods. "Yeah. Is that weird to say?"

I shake my head. "No, it's fine."

She pulls open the door to the bathroom. "Anyway," she says, "I'm glad you're out having a good time with a guy like Holt. He's a good guy. And it sounds like you deserve a good guy."

"Thank you," I say, "and I appreciate it. I just met him today, and..."

She nods, understanding. "I get it. We've got to look out for each other, right?"

I smile. "I think so."

"See you around," she says.

I nod. "Sure."

Feeling a little bit lighter after the conversation, I find Holt waiting for me at the table where I left him. When he sees me, he hands me a glass of water. "Drink up."

And I do. We finish our water glasses completely and then set them down on the table as if we completed a drinking competition. He beat me, and we laugh.

"So, you ready for the two-step?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "I’m in trouble."

"Yeah, but at least you're smiling."

I grin. "I am."

"Okay, I guess the bathroom did something magical. What do they got in there? Some fairy dust? Some..."

I shake my head. "No, just... I heard a little whispering about you." I shake my fingers in front of his hand, and he grabs my wrist, pulling me to him.

"Yeah? Whispers, huh?"

I nod. Our noses nearly touch. He wraps an arm around my waist, hugging me close. I draw in a breath. He pulls me even closer. "Whisperings," I say.

He swallows. I do, too. "Good whisperings?" he asks.

I nod, "Very good."

I smile. This one, it's not forced, not like earlier at the diner when I pasted a smile on my face. This one isn't fake. It's all natural. All real. All for him. Holt Stone, whoever this man might be. Apparently, he's a good one.

I see Layla on the dance floor. That's where I want to be, even though I have no idea how to dance, how to move. But I feel like if I'm against Holt somehow, even if it's just our fingers touching, I'll feel okay. I never wanted a man to hold me until... until right now.

I swallow. "Show me how to dance," I tell him.

He nods. "I want to show you everything," he says.

I close my eyes, and he draws my mouth to his. Holt Stone kisses me right then and there.

Devil on the Highway is playing a song, and it's not Willie Nelson. I'm glad because that might make me cry. And right now, I'm not ready for tears. I don't want my heart to pound like that right now. I want to get swept away in the music and the bass, the thump, thump, thump of the cowboy boots on the dance floor, Holt Stone's body pressed against mine. I want the rhythm to wipe away my blues, and I want Holt's mouth to meet mine. It does. I do.

He kisses me hard in the kind of way I need. He tastes better than I imagined. His lips are soft. The kind of soft I need in my life. I'm hard enough for both of us. His lips part. And I know we're at a bar and some kisses shouldn't be made in public places, but I don't care right now. I want him to kiss me until I'm ragged, until I'm raw. I don't want this kiss to end. He keeps kissing me until the music stops, until I'm lost for words, until I'm out of breath.

And when he pulls back and he looks into my eyes, I wonder what he sees. Because what I see is this hunger, need, desire. “We’ve gotta get outta here,” he whispers.”

Someone calls for him, "Hey, Holt!"

He turns. "Austin," he says. A name on his lips. And I don't want him to say anybody's name but mine. I reach for Holt. My fingers grip his belt buckle. I swallow. I feel him tense. He needs me in the way I need him.

This man, Austin, reaches us. "Hey, man," he says. "I've been looking for you. I didn't know if you were coming out, or where you’ve been."

"Yeah, I..." He looks over at me. "This is Paisley," he says. "My date."

"I didn't realize you had a date. I'm Austin," he says. "Good to meet you, Paisley." Austin has a crooked smile and a Southern accent and an easygoing attitude. I can see why he's friends with Holt. He gives me his hand, and I take it. I shake it hard, firm.