28. Dove
DOVE
D riving into the heart of Haven was mayhem.
The minute we hit the main road that fed into town, it was nearly bumper to bumper traffic.
There was a line of expensive, flashy cars without scratches that screamed corporate job , and trucks so clean you could see your reflection in them—all without a speak of dirt on their rims. Damn near blasphemous in these parts.
They wouldn’t stay that way, of course. Not out here.
“Busier than I remember,” Josh commented absentmindedly, creeping up slowly as traffic moved. His hand was a hot brand on my knee, the rough scrap of his calluses tickling the sensitive skin there with each brush of his fingers.
He hadn’t taken his hands off me since I’d walked out of the house.
We’d woken up early, the sun barely a thought in the sky, so we could get most of what we needed to do before we left done for the day.
We’d still put off some work, prioritizing the most important chores, but it meant we could leave earlier than we would have otherwise.
I hated that we’d be missing a half day of work, but Josh reassured me that it would be okay.
I knew he was right. We were so close to harvest, and the weather was cooperating.
We could enjoy a partial day off together.
Together . I liked the sound of that.
I enjoyed every moment I got with Josh, even working, but doing something that didn’t pertain to the farm with him?
Anticipation had festered in me all day, growing as the minutes ticked by.
Although we couldn’t outwardly act like it, this was our first date.
Our first real outing since we’d gotten together.
Just the thought of it had me biting at my bottom lip to stop the sappy smile that threatened to slip onto my face anytime it crossed my mind.
When we’d wrapped up earlier this afternoon, I’d practically scurried to the house and bounded up the stairs to get ready.
Josh might not have needed much time for himself, but I needed every minute I could get.
I’d FaceTimed Reverie the moment my bedroom door latched closed, frantically holding up clothes and asking her to guide me through curling my hair.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done it in something other than a bun or a braid.
I even found some old nail polish—a bright pink that had both Rev and me remembering the day we’d bought it together, another one of her grand schemes to get Josh to notice me back then—and did my nails for the first time in years.
I would have preferred her help, but she regretfully informed me she was working a half day at the salon and busy later, again hedging around details.
When I’d finally emerged out into sunlight, dressed in something familiar but drastically prettier than my regular day-to-day clothes, Josh was patiently waiting by his Suburban, hands crossed over his chest, aviators shading his eyes.
Knowing he was standing there, waiting for me so he could take me out, had my heartrate picking up with each step I took towards him.
He looked handsome with his new haircut, styled in a way that made me want to run my hands through the tempting brown locks and ruin them, sporting a pair of dark wash Wrangler jeans I hadn’t seen him wear before.
The light blue Henley that stretched across his torso and shoulders was new, too, and it fit just right—unlike some of the clothes he’d been forced to wear since he came back.
My eyes trailed lower, drawn to his exposed forearms, where a masculine leather wrap bracelet adorned one wrist, decidedly not new.
I recognized it as a gift I’d given him one year for Christmas, where I’d gotten the day we met engraved on the inside.
Heat simmered in my belly. He looked downright delectable.
His head turned as I descended the steps and crossed the driveway.
He pushed off the side of the car, reaching to remove his sunglasses and tuck them into his collar, never once glancing away, eyes glued to me, their depths molten chocolate as they roamed over me like mine had him just a second ago.
He took a step forward, then another, meeting me halfway.
“You look gorgeous,” he admired thickly. “Red’s a good color on you.”
His compliments were bullets I didn’t want to dodge, and yet I dismissed him.
“You’ve seen this dress before.” I fiddled with the hem of it, a flowy, off-the-shoulder sundress.
It was nothing new, that was true, but I’d hardly worn it.
It was one of the few things in my wardrobe Reverie-approved.
Probably because she said it flattered my curves while making my legs look a mile long, but that could have just been her envy talking.
Reverie’s big personality was packed into a pint-sized body.
He leaned in closer, his nose skimming along my hairline. “I love this fucking dress.” His voice was a sensual caress down my spine and despite the summer sun beating down on us a shiver worked its way down my spine.
“Yeah?” I asked, slightly breathless. Maybe my best friend had been onto something.
He nodded, stubble scraping across my cheek as he confessed gruffly in my ear, “I couldn’t tell you how good you really looked in it back then, or how much I ached to take it off you, but I can now.” His hand skimmed over my hip. A burning tease through fabric.
“Josh,” I whimpered, reaching for him, but he grabbed my hands before I could make contact, maneuvering them so they were trapped behind my back. The position caused my front to press fully against his.
“When you say my name like that,” he murmured against my lips, “there’s nothing I want more than to say screw it and take you back into that house so I can show you all the things I’ve imagined doing to you.”
My head was nodding in permission before he’d finished, and I surged up eagerly on my tiptoes, searching for something deeper than just a skim of lips. I pouted as he pulled back.
“But I won’t,” he stated resolutely, hands still holding my arms hostage behind my back in makeshift cuffs, “because this is the first time I’m taking you out on a date, Dove Riley, even if the world doesn’t know it, and I want to do it right.”
As excited as I’d been about today, it was nothing compared to the visual Josh’s teasing words had conjured. “We can skip it,” I suggested quickly. “Go somewhere else another time.”
“No.” He let my arms go, slipping a hand into one of mine and leading me around to the passenger side. He opened the door for me, ever the gentleman.
I paused before getting in, Josh a solid warmth at my back. I peered over my shoulder at him. “We’re not taking the truck?”
“Not today,” Josh answered apologetically. “When I revved her up this morning, she was making a mysterious knocking sound. Figured we’d play it safe by taking this.” His hand skimmed down my spine, settling on my lower back. “That alright?”
His soothing touch couldn’t erase how much I disliked this vehicle.
It wasn’t that I hated it per se, it was just a painful reminder of a time where Josh wasn’t mine; when he was out of reach and far away, off having a life without any trace of me in it.
Looking at it gave me the same feeling as what I would imagine someone ripping the heart out of your chest felt like. Painfully hollow.
“It’s fine,” I assured in a voice stronger than I actually felt. There was no use explaining that to Josh, because if I did, he’d be pulling out the truck and praying it didn’t break down on us, just so I wouldn’t have the aching reminder lingering as I sat in the passenger seat.
It was just a car, and besides, Josh was here with me. Sometimes you had to let the past stay in the past, even when it wanted to hang overhead like an angry storm cloud.
His hand remained a steadying weight on my back, guiding me into my seat.
He grabbed my seat belt and reached to click it in.
As he stretched over me, he took a subtle inhale, letting out a groan so soft I barely heard it, but the exhale was a minty, enticing puff over my lips.
He remained hovering over me, inches away.
The air between us crackled with sexual tension, a physical thing that grew, brewing in the short distance between us.
“If we’re going to do this,” he explained tightly, eyes peeling away from my lips to find mine, “we have to be on our best behavior.” It sounded like he was talking more to himself than to me.
I remembered reading once that smell was one of the strongest human senses, and now I knew why.
This close it was easy to catch a hint of the clean, masculine scent of him.
Just one whiff was powerful enough to have my body moving of its own accord, but I quickly curbed the impulse, sitting on my hands so they wouldn’t reach for him again.
“Best behavior,” I chirped in agreement.
Josh smiled. “That’s my girl.” His words shot a jolt of warmth down my body that settled into an aching throb at the apex of my thighs. He leaned in, rewarding me with a chaste kiss that had me straining against the seatbelt across my chest for more.
That ache for more lingered, intensifying as Josh’s hand stayed glued to me the second he hopped in beside me and started toward town. His touch was the slowest torture, the sweetest tease, and I was afraid neither of us would get through this without slipping up.
“So much for this being a local event,” Josh griped beside me as we continued to idle in traffic. “When did this become so damn popular? I swear we haven’t moved half a mile in ten minutes.”
I couldn’t think with Josh’s hand still resting on my knee, fingers flexing with his growing impatience.