Sidecar Crush

I stopped thinking about what I was supposed to do—how to do this right—and grabbed her, pulling her against me. She melted in my arms, her body soft. I kissed her hair and breathed her in—held her tight.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” I said, my voice quiet in her ear. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.” She pulled back so she could look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry for how I acted in L.A. And I need you to know, nothing happened with me and Brock. I promise.”

“I know.” I caressed her cheek. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “It wasn’t fair of me to assume you’d know the truth when I didn’t tell you.”

“I still shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

She let her nose rub gently against mine. “I guess… sometimes we let go with the person we love the most because we know they’re safe. We know they’re going to love us anyway.”

“I reckon you’re right about that,” I said. “I don’t want to live that way, though.”

“We won’t,” she said, her lips drawing closer to mine. “All we can do is our best. And when things are hard, we work it out.”

“You make it sound awfully easy.”

“Simple, but not easy,” she said. “But you’re a good man, Jameson Bodine. One of the best I’ve ever known.”

“I love you like crazy, Leah Mae Larkin.”

“Just tell me I’m still your girl.”

I cupped her cheek and looked into her bright green eyes. “You’re still my girl.”

Our lips came together and I nearly shuddered with relief. Without a care for who was watching, I kissed my girl. Kissed her until we were both breathless and had to come up for air. Then I kissed her some more.

She giggled as I kissed her sweet lips a few more times. Finally, I stepped back, just enough so we weren’t quite so obscene.

Leah Mae looked up at my sculpture. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“I feel silly even asking, but… is that me?”

I smiled. She had known. That first time she’d visited my shop, I’d dismissed the look she’d had in her eyes—figured it hadn’t meant anything. But I’d seen it, and deep down, I’d known. We’d both known this was her.

“She is.”

She touched her fingers to her lips and her eyes glistened. “You added more since I last saw her.”

I nodded. “Pulled an all-nighter to finish.”

“But… whose hands are they?”

I’d crafted two hands reaching up, as if from below—hands intent on rescuing her. One gripped a bar, like he was hoisting himself up. The other held a key.

“I reckon they’re mine.”

A tear trailed down her cheek and I swiped it away with my thumb.

“You did set me free,” she said. “You, and Bootleg Springs.”

“Bootleg has a way of doing that,” I said. “I guess it has the right sort of magic.”

“It most certainly does. And so do you.”

35

LEAH MAE

T he smells coming out of the kitchen in the Brunch Club made my tummy rumble. We were here for brunch and booze, as one does when they go to the Brunch Club, and I was starving.

Jameson sat next to me, his hand on my thigh. The way he kept sneaking his fingers beneath the hem of my skirt was making me tingle—in all the best ways. He leaned in and kissed my cheek—sweet, and appropriate for public display. What he kept trying to do beneath the table was anything but.

I loved it.

As soon as we’d returned from Charlotte, requests for Jameson’s work had poured in. He was booked up solid for the next year, and had actually had to turn down several commissions, simply because he didn’t have time. Being able to pick and choose what he wanted to work on was a dream come true for him. He was living his dream, and I was so proud.

Scarlett and Devlin sat across from us, engaged in their usual PDA. It didn’t seem to bother Jameson, even though I knew he still felt protective of his sister. I figured he was too busy teasing me under the table, enjoying how it made me squirm.