Muffin Top

“And the king and queen of the Antioch High School reunion   are”—the master of ceremonies paused for a recorded drum roll—“Frankie Hartigan and Lucy Kavanagh!”

As the gym erupted into cheers and clapping, he turned to Lucy, who mouthed “Oh my God” to him and was holding onto his hand like he was tethering her to earth. He didn’t want to let go of her hand, but he relinquished it anyway so she could receive her crown.

Thank God he didn’t have to wear one, because that was so very much not his thing. But dancing with Lucy? That really was.

Moving in an easy rhythm to a slow song, he couldn’t help but draw her in close so he could feel her against him. She felt good, right in his arms. This might be Lucy’s reunion   dance, but he sure as hell didn’t want it to end. The fact that it was going to, though, hung over him like a thirty-pound anvil.

“So, did you have a good class reunion   week?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Yeah I did,” she said softly, raising herself up on her tiptoes as they swayed to brush her lips across his cheek. “Thanks to you.”

“I just acted as your eye candy.”

Did that sound defensive or humble? He wasn’t sure which one he meant it to sound like. The truth of it was that he was done being the good-time guy, and the worst thing would be for Lucy to think of him that way.

“Eye candy?” Lucy asked, shaking her head. “You were a lot more than that.”

“And when we get home?”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to ask that question—not here, at least—and judging by the guarded expression on Lucy’s usually open face, she wished he hadn’t, too. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say next, so he just stared into her soft brown eyes. But he couldn’t shake the itchy sense of impending doom he’d learned to listen to the first time he’d stepped foot into a house on fire. If a firefighter didn’t listen to that sixth sense, the chances of coming out crispy went up exponentially.

“Being here this week, this isn’t real life,” she said, her voice so soft he had to lower his head to hear her more clearly. “It’s a little cocoon.”

True, but he wasn’t ready to give into that just yet, tingly sense of danger or not. “And what do you think will be different back in Waterbury?”

Before she could answer, the music changed to a fast song from years ago and people streamed onto the dance floor. For a second, they just stood there, staring at each other, the full weight of future possibilities pressing down against them. Then, Lucy gave a practiced smile that she’d probably used a thousand times to defuse tense situations in her office.

“A lack of potato sack races.” She grinned, then pulled him into a circle of people dancing along with the fast beat.

It was a good move—defensive without being obvious—but Frankie knew what she was doing and he wasn’t having it. There was more between them than just picnic games and hot sex.

All he needed to do was persuade her that this was more than just a temporary good time.

Chapter Seventeen

An hour later, Frankie was white-knuckling Scarlett’s steering wheel. There was dark, and then there was country backroads dark. He couldn’t see a damn thing except the little bit of road Scarlett’s headlights illuminated, a million stars, and Lucy next to him in the front seat. She was still wearing that sexy-as-all-get-out red dress that wrapped around her like a promise and a tease—oh, and a makeshift blindfold he’d made from the Antioch High School Queen sash she’d gotten along with the crown on her head.

“You know, I wouldn’t do this for just anyone,” she said.

The “this” being getting in his car without knowing—or being able to see—where they were going. It was a definite sign of trust from a woman so used to fighting her battles alone, one that he took as a very good sign for the trip back home tomorrow.

“It was my kick-ass singing abilities, wasn’t it?” he asked, turning left onto a narrow dark driveway after passing a small wooden sign that read Laughlin Hotel.

Lucy chuckled. “You’re horrible and you know it.”

“True.” He reached out and laid his palm on her thigh, watching out of the corner of his eye as she bit her bottom lip. “But luckily I have other talents.”

“And those include driving blindfolded women around in the middle of the night?”

The words may have been flippant, but her tone was all sexy kitten and he was so down for that. Fuck. He was beyond down, he was uncomfortably up for it. For her. Always. So, he let out a sigh of relief when the boutique luxury hotel hidden away in the woods like some kind of fairy castle appeared at the end of the long driveway. It was four stories tall and built to look like a castle. Booking the tower room had made his credit card cry, but it was going to be worth it.