But I can’t say that—I’m not that brave—so I keep my mouth shut.
Instead, I just kiss his cheek when he pulls into Gram’s driveway and jump out of the truck. “See you tomorrow.”
Before I can walk away, he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me back, urging my face down to him again.
“Not funny. I made you a promise, and I’m gonna keep it, just as soon as we’re past all this work. Till then, don’t you dare forget my goodnight kiss,” he rumbles like a teacher warning a student who’s just forgotten to turn in her tenth assignment.
And God, does he warn me.
With any other man, it’d be insulting.
With Weston McKnight, it’s becoming an addiction.
When my lips part for him, when I take his tongue, when he traces me like he’s etching everything into his head for life, I give in without a fight.
And by the time we’re done, I wonder if I’ll ever fight for anything except more of his rough kisses.
* * *
Screw hectic.
The opening of the car show flies by. The building is jam-packed with excited hordes of happy people all day, more parents than I can count with their kids dressed up like little vampires, ghosts, zombies, and a hundred kinds of monsters.
Gram sells out of cookies by one o’clock, and Faye’s last set of pearl earrings is just being handed to the grinning young lady who bought it when the loudspeaker kicks on.
“Attention, attention! Building A will be closing in fifteen minutes. Please make your way outdoors for food, games, and good old-fashioned fun.”
I smile. Everywhere you move, it smells like heaven, the aromas of savory sausages and cheese curds and every kind of sugary delight infusing the air. The food vendors will stay open until midnight when the dancing ends.
Weston arrives at our booth moments later, wearing a blue denim button-down that matches his eyes.
“You gals need a hand? I’ve got a table reserved outside so you can eat and enjoy the music,” he says.
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Faye responds, quickly collecting her purse. “That sounds lovely. The entire day has been wonderful.”
“How are you holding up?” Weston asks quietly as we pack up and follow Gram and Faye to the mass of people swarming out the open door. “Worn out from babysitting these two?”
I snicker. “No way. They’ve been a delight and they’ve had a ton of fun. This whole thing was a great idea.” I nod at my grandmother, who struts around like she’s never had surgery.
“She barely touched her walker all day. She keeps saying she’s never felt so good, and I actually believe her. It’s not just her usual grit and modesty. She’s been laughing and visiting with people all day.”
“Have you had a chance to check out the car show?” he asks.
“No. The booths were real busy and I didn’t want to leave them alone. Gram was slinging cookies so fast you’d think they were made of moonshine.”
He smiles, his expression oddly thin.
“Few things out there as potent as a sugar rush, especially for Halloween. We’ll walk over there after getting them settled at the table, then I’ll take you around to the cars.”
“Sounds great.” I take his arm gladly as we walk.
Sure enough, he has a table for them under an awning. I spot Marty already there, a ghoulish green drink in his hand and his dirty boots kicked up on a spare seat.
“Dude. Could you try showing some manners?” I say.
He gives me a pained smile and whips his feet down.
“Just relaxing. You oughta try it sometime, sis. I’ll take over from here,” Marty tells me. “I know you never left your post all day on cookie duty.”