Feels like Rain (Lake Fisher 3)

She grins. Then she stands up on her tiptoes and kisses my lips. It’s a quick move, one meant to show love more than passion. But still I have to take a deep breath when she does it, or I’m afraid I’ll lose my shit. “At least he got a good show,” she says.

I step back from her and adjust the fit of my jeans. She catches the action and raises her brows at me.

“Something wrong?” she asks, a grin teasing her lips.

“Everything’s right.” I tuck that lock of hair behind her ear. “For the first time in a really long time, everything is right.”

She grins at me as she gets into her car.

“I’ll pick you up at twelve-thirty!” I call. She throws up a hand in acknowledgement. She waves at Shy, who waves back. Then as she backs out of her spot, I see him motion me toward the door. I walk back in.

He throws a bag in my direction, and I catch it in the air. “You’re welcome,” he says with a wink.

When I get to the truck, I open the bag and find a box of condoms. I lay my head back and laugh, and I look back through the window to find him giving me another thumbs-up. I flip him the bird, but secretly I’m grateful. It’s kind of nice having people who care about me.

It has been a long time since I’ve felt worthy of kindness, and I kind of like it.

17

Abigail

Ethan is nearly vibrating when he picks me up at the cabin to go to the ballgame. His knee jumps as I get into the truck. “Do you think this truck is okay for him to ride in?” he asks. His thumb beats a rhythm on the dashboard.

I look around. “I think it’s fine. Why?” I reach back and grab my seatbelt, pulling it on.

“It’s kind of old,” he says.

“But it’s safe, right? It doesn’t need brakes or new tires or anything that could cause an accident?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s in good shape for what it is.”

I lay my hand on his upper arm, and I see him visibly try to force himself to relax. “It will be fine.” Then I remember. “Wait… Does it have three seatbelts?” I point to the middle seat. “There’s one for the middle?”

His brow furrows. “Yes, it has one in the middle.”

“Oh, good,” I say. “I’ll sit there on the way back.”

He finally grins. “You’re itching to sit next to me, aren’t you?” He bats his lashes at me playfully. “You’ve been trying to figure out how to get close to me for a really long time.”

I hold up one finger. “While that is somewhat true,” I say, “I refuse to admit it under these circumstances. Instead, I’m going to take one for the team and sit in the middle on the way back. Mitchell will probably be in a booster seat anyway.”

“Booster seat,” he repeats. “Forgot about those.”

I lay my hand on his arm again. “It’s going to be okay,” I say emphatically.

“If you say so,” he says as he blows out a heavy breath. “I guess we had better get going.” He lets his eyes slowly trail up and down my body. “You look really pretty, Abigail.”

I feel the heat as it creeps up my cheeks. “Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself.”

He looks down at the jeans and t-shirt he’s wearing. “Shy gave me a team t-shirt,” he admits. He reaches over and opens the glove box, and he pulls out another. “He gave me one for you too.” He thrusts it in my direction.

“Well, that was nice of him.” I think about it. “When did all this happen? After I left?”

He shakes his head. “No, I went back. Got a few more staples. For tonight. In case Mitchell gets hungry.”

More like in case he gets hungry and I don’t know him well enough to know what to feed him. I hope he had the presence of mind to call his mother for advice on that.

“That was a good idea. Did you wash the sheets and set up his bed?”