The Worst Best Friend: A Small Town Romance

“Coffee?” I ask. “Might help take your mind off our boy’s tummy ache.”

She smiles, steps closer, and shakes her head. A couple hot tears start flowing again.

Shit.

I set down the cup and do the only thing I can.

Take her in my arms and hold her together.

Press her ear against my chest, hoping she finds my ticking heart comforting.

She bawls into my shirt, her fingers wandering near my waist. I rest my chin on her head and rock her back and forth, slowly, giving her time to let it all out.

“West, I’m sorry,” she says shakily. “So sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Against my better judgment, I deposit a quick kiss on top of her head. “Herc’s gonna be fine. You heard Ronnie.”

“Yeah, b-but...it’s my fault. All mine.”

“Like hell. You didn’t do anything, Shel.”

“Yes, I did,” she spits back.

I take a step back to separate us, framing her face with both hands.

“Woman, he’s a pig. He ate almonds off the ground, just like he’ll eat damn near anything. He’s not dying and he’ll live,” I say firmly.

“He...he ate those almonds at my house. They must’ve been lying around thanks to our guest.”

Her face scrunches up and I know the tears are far from over.

Hell, I don’t want that, and I can only think of exactly one way to stop them.

Her green eyes fall into mine as I slide a finger under her chin, lifting her face up.

“Look at me,” I rumble.

“W-why?” she stammers with a sniff.

For this.

The moment our lips meet, it’s like a generator blown to pieces. A hundred thousand watts of raw electricity, hot and fast and furious, so wild with sparks it welds our lips together.

Fuck.

No.

Fuck!

She gasps into my mouth and I groan back a curse. Her lips firm with surprise, then soften, giving way to the sudden attack of my tongue.

I’m no longer in control of my own body.

This kiss has its own rules, its own gravity, its own soul.

I’d be a complete fool to try to stop its energy.

Her lips are too soft. Too warm. Too perfect in every way, shape, form, and whimper.