“That’s what I brought you along for. I don’t have to worry about where we’re going, as long as you’re around. You’ll get us home.”
“That must be nice. Freeloading on my brainpower. You ought to have a job of your own or something.”
“I’ve cooked for you all week. Surely that counts for something. I cook; when we go out, you make sure we get back. That seems like a fair trade.”
“Hmmm. I’ll have to think on that. Maybe I owe you. You cook every day, I only use my homing instincts once in a while, so it doesn’t really seem fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. The Great Gable says that all the time. Or maybe it’s Gable the Great.”
“I’ve had that nickname for twenty-five years; you can’t change it now. It’s Gable, and that’s it.”
“Twenty-five years? Aren’t we exaggerating just a little? I’m pretty sure I didn’t watch Gone with the Wind when I was three years old.”
“Really? We’re gonna quibble over details?”
“Yeah, I’ll quibble over anything right now just to change the subject.” She put her hands on her cheeks. They were still hot. “It’s going to be a long time before I’m not embarrassed about this anymore.”
“About what? Voting me the most kissable lips?” He bumped her shoulder with his. “Hey, was that vote unanimous?”
“Would you believe me if I said I cast the one dissenting vote?” She bit her lip and looked at him. Maybe she could get out of this after all.
“Nope. I bet you were the one that nominated me.”
“No. Now that I did not do.”
“Then who did you nominate?”
She pushed her hair over her shoulder, figuring she could give him a few seconds to squirm or at least wait. Then she admitted, “No one. When Janice suggested you, I certainly couldn’t argue with her.”
There. She admitted it. All of it. But she couldn’t even think of another guy. Clark might be her best friend, but he was still perfect—right up to his lips.
He leaned back, putting his hands on the boards behind him and looking at the sky as the color slowly faded into a deep pink and orange just along the far horizon.
“So, how curious are you?”
“About what?” She imitated him, leaning back on her hands too. There was a chip bag between their legs, but their pinky fingers touched.
“Kissing me.”
“Are you speaking in the present tense?”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t we talk about you for a little bit?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “So, what exactly were you thinking this week?” That was a really awkward subject change, but at least it got the pressure off her—as long as he went with it.
“I was thinking that I was stupid when I married Dana, and that you would make some guy a perfect wife, and I kind of wanted that guy to be me.”
His words took her breath away, and it took her a minute to suck air back into her lungs. Another minute passed before she felt she could speak in a calm tone. “And kissing never entered your thoughts?”
“I can’t say that.”
“Then what can you say?”
His pinky finger rubbed against hers, and she felt that touch the whole way up her arm. It shot through her chest and ran down both legs. Inside her shoes, her toes curled.
“Every time I saw you, I wanted to touch you. You have that dip in your waist, and I kept thinking I’d like to rest my hand right there. No, my hands. One on each side. Then I could pull you closer.”
He stopped talking, so she said, “Is this where we get to the kissing part?”
“Holy smokes, you’re impatient. No way. I’m not ready to kiss yet. I just barely touched your waist. There’s a lot of other places I want to touch before I kiss you.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I’ve never touched your hair. Well, I’ve probably touched it, but I think I’d like to run my hands through it.” He raised a brow at her. “I got the plural first time that time.”
“I noticed. You’re improving. Go on.”
“Go on? Like, keep talking?”
“Yeah. What else? I want to get to the kissing part.”
“I haven’t watched that many romance movies. Only the ones you forced me into. I want action. There isn’t going to be a kissing part.”
“No kissing?” She put her lip out in a pout. “I thought you said there was kissing?”
“No, that was you. You’re all about the kissing.”
“I’m pretty sure you said something about kissing.”
“Maybe I changed my mind. Or maybe you misheard me.”
“No. I didn’t mishear you. You said kissing. I definitely heard it.”
“I’m pretty sure you said kissing too. Maybe I want to hear about your kissing.”
“No way. You’ve left us standing face-to-face with your hands in my hair. I want to hear the rest.”
Most of the light had faded from the sky, and there was just a dim glow, but she could see his features easily when he turned his face toward hers.
“I don’t think I want to talk about it.”
She knew he didn’t mean to hurt her, but it did. It was like he was shutting her out.
“I think I’d rather show you.”
Oh.
Well.
“Okay.”
His grin was slow and easy, and if she felt his touch clear to her toes, that grin went straight to her heart, burning the whole way.
“I think I have to stand up for this.”
She looked over the edge of the water tank, wondering.
Then she looked behind them. If she stretched her head as far as she could, she could touch the water tank, just brushing it. There wasn’t much room on the platform.
“Do you think it’s dangerous?”
“Us kissing? What dangerous thing do you think is going to happen?”
“Well, I don’t know what kind of kisser you are. We might fall off the platform. That would be kind of an inauspicious beginning.”
“All right, you talked me into it. We’ll do this sitting down.”
That wasn’t exactly what she’d meant. “Maybe we should get off the water tower. And do it on the ground.”
“You stalling?”
“I’m just trying to be safe.”
“If we were being safe, we wouldn’t have had this discussion to begin with. We definitely wouldn’t be thinking about kissing each other.”
“Good point. I was talking about physical safety.”
“Oh, boy.” He sounded truly distressed. “That means you probably had a bigger influence on me than I like to admit, if I’m concerned about our emotions.” He huffed out a breath. “That’s scary.”
“That is scary. I might have to rethink this. I’m not sure I want a man who is that in touch with his feminine side.”
“I’m not sure I want a woman who’s not sure she wants me.”
“Seriously? You left us standing there with your hands in my hair facing each other, and now you’re not even sure whether you want me or not? I never got to the kissing part. You can’t dump me without kissing me first.”
“You’re not making any sense.” His hand reached up and cupped her cheek, sliding along it, and she pressed her head into his palm. “It’s a new side of you. I think I kinda like it.”
“I just hope it doesn’t last. I need my brain. It feels like mush right now.” Her words were whispered and soft, and they faded off completely as he moved his hand around her head.
Chapter 14
Clark leaned on his elbow, running his other hand through Marlowe’s hair. “I can’t believe how perfect this feels.”
“My hair?” Marlowe asked with one of her little grins. The kind that said she knew that wasn’t what he was talking about but she was being goofy. He definitely liked goofy Marlowe.
“Well, your hair does seem perfect. But what I really meant was being here with you. I can’t believe I didn’t see this before.”
She wiggled just a little closer and rolled to her side too. “This feels like more stalling on your part. I’m starting to really be afraid that I’m not going to get kissed tonight.”
“It’s our first kiss. Don’t rush it.”
“Gable. It is not our first kiss.”
He laughed. “Seriously? What were we? Four? Six? You can’t count that atrocity of a kiss as our first kiss? Please don’t. That’s not a good memory.”
“It was a little offensive at the time, because I’m pretty sure you threw up on me. But it’s kind of funny now.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. So that takes all the pressure of the first kiss off.” She paused before adding, a little breathlessly, he thought, “We can rush.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
She put a hand on his waist and wiggled just a little closer. Close enough that their breath mingled and he could feel the heat from her body. It wasn’t quite close enough, because they weren’t touching.
She lifted her brows at him and said softly, “Then maybe I ought to take charge of the situation. You have plenty of time, and you’re wasting it.”
He slid his hand down, and she felt soft and warm. He slid it around her back and pulled her closer, enough to erase the distance between them. “Can’t you let a man enjoy this?”
“I hope.”
Her words were a little flippant, but there was a note of insecurity there, and he lowered his head. He didn’t want her to be insecure about how he felt, even if he probably wasn’t going to be the best at saying the words. He figured he could show her, and that might help negate his inability to articulate his feelings with any degree of depth.
“Oh, I guarantee it.” He couldn’t keep from smiling, which might not have been the most romantic thing in the world to do, but she smiled as well, and it felt right again. They were friends first. Best friends. Part of their friendship had always been being able to laugh with each other. Although, he did want her to understand that he was serious, not just about this, but about her.
“Are you going to stop moving those things long enough for me to kiss them?”
After raising her brows, she puckered her lips and closed her eyes.
He wanted to be serious, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “That wasn’t the kind of kiss I was thinking about, but it’ll do for a start.”
He bent down and touched her lips with his, softly, just a light touch. Another little brush and again, and by the third time, he pulled her closer and pressed harder, and her lips had softened under his, and he was finally kissing her the way he wanted.
It caught him off guard when she pressed against him, pushing him down on his back, without breaking contact, and she had both his cheeks in her hands, and her hair was a veil around them, and her scent was filling his senses and closing out the rest of the world, and all he could feel was her body warm and hard and right on his, and all he wanted was to be closer and to stay like that forever, with the soft night air and the spinning in space and the pounding of his blood and Marlowe the only solid anchor.
It was a long time later when she finally lifted her head and pressed her cheek against his, her hand in his hair and her breath in his ear.
She’d changed his world. It was completely different. Better. In every way better.
There was too much going through his head and his body for him to be able to say the romantic words she probably deserved.
But he could think of something, and maybe he shouldn’t have said it, but he whispered in her ear, “That was a heck of a lot better than last time.”
Her laugh puffed in his ear, and she lifted her head enough for their noses to touch. “You’ve gotten a little better yourself there, Gable.”
His breath felt shaky, and he didn’t want to use her nickname. It just didn’t seem as serious as he wanted to be. “Marlowe, I... I...” He was on the verge of saying he thought he was falling in love with her. He thought she’d be okay with it. But it felt a little soon. And so he said the only other thing he could think of. “I’d like to do that again.”
Maybe “I love you” would’ve been better, but what came out made her smile and lower her head, so he figured it wasn’t too bad.
MONDAY EVENING, MARLOWE stood in the kitchen chopping chicken for the casserole she was making for supper.
All day, she’d had so much trouble getting the silly grin off her face. But now, she was having trouble keeping her foot still and her stomach from twisting like a crushed soda can.
Saturday night had been a bit magical. Sunday morning, they’d gone to church and sat together, which definitely raised a few eyebrows. Usually, Marlowe and Kylie sat in the seat in front of Clark and Huck. Sitting together in church was almost like announcing to the town that they were engaged.
Except, they weren’t.
Marlowe wasn’t sure exactly what they were. They hadn’t really talked about it other than being “more” than friends. How much more? What was that called?
The kids had come home Sunday evening, and things had been crazy, trying to get clothes washed and unpacked and things ready for school in the morning, with Clark having to start work before daylight on Monday morning so she’d taken the kids to school.
He’d texted her that he’d be home in time for supper though, and she wasn’t sure how they were going to play this in front of the children. She wasn’t sure exactly what “this” was.
Were they telling the children? If they were, what, exactly, were they telling the children? She chewed on her lip and tried to concentrate on the chicken so she didn’t end up getting a piece of her finger in it, too.
She supposed it would just play out, and she really didn’t need to worry.
Even as she thought that, she set the knife down and rinsed her hands off, drying them on the towel before picking up her phone.
What are we doing about the children?
There. Just asking him made her feel better.
What happened with the kids?
Okay. She thought he’d know exactly what she meant, but apparently not.
Nothing. I meant about us. What are we doing about us with the kids?
This time, his reply took a little longer.
Um, I’m not sure what exactly you’re asking?
She looked at her phone in frustration. How could she say that any more clearly?
Before she thought of anything, her phone buzzed again.
I’m here. Can I come in, and we’ll talk about it?
Now he was asking permission to come into his own house. She had to laugh. She knew he wasn’t afraid of her, so she wasn’t sure what brought that on.
Yes.
Maybe he was as uncertain as she was. Or maybe he seriously didn’t know what she was talking about.
She hadn’t wanted to let the chicken just sit on the counter. By the time she got it scraped off the cutting board and her hands rinsed off again, he was already at the door.
She held the towel that she’d been drying her hands off with and stood in front of him, three feet away, as he walked in.
Their eyes met. Hers were happy, she was sure, but also uncertain. Kylie didn’t have a dad, and she absolutely adored Clark, so Marlowe wasn’t worried about her reaction to finding out about any kind of relationship Clark and she might have.
And what was their relationship, exactly?
But Huck might be a different story. He had a mom. Although he probably didn’t remember his mom and dad ever living together, she figured, like most kids, he probably hoped they would. Or at least he wished for it.
Clark might not want to spring things on them too fast.
She’d try not to push and just let Clark lead. It was his child that had the most at stake.
She stopped thinking when he spoke. “Is it sappy for me to say I missed you today?”
“It probably is. But I like hearing it.” She couldn’t keep her lips from curving up.
He took a step toward her. “I mis
sed you today.”
“I think you just said that.”
“No, I asked if it was okay for me to say it. I didn’t actually say it. Until just now.”
She shook her head; in his crazy way, he could always make her laugh. She was really glad to know that their kiss hadn’t changed that.
“I thought about kissing you a lot too.”
“That’s what I was asking. Are you okay with the kids seeing us?”
“I can’t imagine they’d be anything but happy. We’ve kinda been mom and dad to them just living in separate houses for years now.”
She couldn’t keep from biting her lip. “But...what are we, exactly? I mean, I don’t want to push you into anything, and I guess I’m not sure myself...” Had their relationship shifted? She thought it had, but she needed to know what he was thinking about it.
He blinked a little, like it hadn’t occurred to him that they needed to define anything. His hand came up and cupped her cheek. “What do you want?”
“I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“Do I have to think?” he asked, and immediately looked like he wished he could take it back. “I’m sorry. You need me to be serious, and here I am joking and goofing off.”
“Yes.” She didn’t even smile. “I need you to be serious.”
“I think you know I like kissing you, and I think you like it too. So...that’s more than friends...are we a couple? I’m okay with that.”
She nodded. Relief making her chest feel light. That’s what she’d thought, too.
“Maybe we’ll just go slow for a little bit and see...I think I know exactly what I want, but I want you to be sure. We don’t want to screw things up for the kids.”
“That’s what I was asking. What are we doing in front of the kids?”
She didn’t get to say anything more about it, because Huck came running out to the kitchen yelling for his dad, and Kylie trailed behind, until Clark had a kid on each side with their arms wrapped around his waist.
It was a sight that made Marlowe’s heart swell. She started to turn back toward the cutting board where she’d left off from supper.
“Hey. Hold off there a minute.” He stepped forward as the kids’ arms dropped from him, until he was in front of her, and one of his hands came and slipped around her neck. “Are you okay with it?”
Best Friends in the Show Me State Page 12
