Chapter 6
Chapter Six
CHRISTIAN
K issing booths are dumb.
And a good way to spread disease.
I would never have entered into this lip-lock of my own volition, but Carolina is a friend. She was also very cool when I broke up with her a couple summers back and begged so sweetly for me to be her first customer of the day, I couldn’t deny her.
Plus, she offered the kiss for free.
Plus, plus , I hoped making out with a gorgeous woman in a wench costume would get my mind off another gorgeous woman I’m determined to purge from my thoughts (and fantasies).
I spent most of last night dreaming about devouring Starling’s pussy on the floor of our office and woke up so hard I couldn’t help reaching beneath the covers to take care of myself. I tried not to think about She Who Shall Not Be Fucked while I did it, but halfway through, Fantasy Starling was riding me, her long hair tickling my chest as she ground up and down on my cock, telling me how desperate she’s been for me to fuck her.
I came so hard, I made a strangled guttural noise that scared Bella all the way out in her crate in the living room. It took me half an hour and some serious cuddling to comfort my illicit new charge.
The fact that I stole an animal it’s illegal to possess in Minnesota without a zookeeper’s license probably didn’t help much when it came to soothing her fears. Animals can sense it when their humans are in distress, and in the cold light of day, thoughts of a massive fine or jail time were both giving me a fair amount of distress.
I don’t want to take a single step down Trouble Road.
Not now or ever again.
I’ve been on the straight and narrow for a long time, but I was a terrible teen. I skirted close to breaking the law on a regular basis and probably crossed the line a time or two. My older brothers did their best to straighten me out—Barrett even punched me once, and Drew sat me down for “a serious talk” nearly every month—but nothing worked. Not until the night one of my best friends nearly died while we were night swimming at the old quarry.
Wally dove in head-first, collided with some old farm equipment we had no idea was hiding beneath the surface, and stayed under so long we all started to panic.
Thankfully, my cousin Theo was sober and had enough presence of mind to shout for us all to shine our flashlights on the water as he waded in to look for Wally. Theo pulled him out, administered CPR, and we were able to get our friend to the hospital in time.
But it was close.
Too close.
That night instilled in me the value of following the rules. If you don’t, people can die. Or get hurt really, really badly.
Starting something with Starling would hurt her, I have no doubt of that. She can talk about “knowing what she’s getting into” all she wants, but I know Starling. She’s a lover and a caregiver and a connector. I can’t imagine a world where the fact that we’re fucking on the regular means nothing to her.
It would certainly mean something to me.
Just sneaking into the office with her last night, chatting as we crept through the darkness and coaxed Bella out from under the desk, was the best “date” I’ve had in years. Her smile makes me smile, her sense of mischief calls to mine, and that’s a recipe for trouble.
Hell, look what she’s gotten me into already. I’m in possession of a contraband creature and we haven’t even kissed. I can only imagine the chaos we’d create if we started dating.
It’s best if I steer clear of the woman and stick to kissing people like Carolina. Safe women. Women who won’t tempt me to get attached or make things awkward with my family if our relationship is discovered. My brother Matty is currently the “problem child” of the McGuire clan, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m too old and set in my ways to go back to being the one Barrett wants to punch or Drew sits down for a talk.
Still, I’m thinking of Starling the entire time I’m kissing Carolina, and I end the kiss far sooner than I usually would have.
I can’t help it. Now that I know Starling wants to kiss me as much as I want to kiss her, other women’s lips hold no appeal.
“A kissing booth, how fun!” a familiar voice chirps as I pull away from Carolina’s lips.
I turn to see Starling standing a few feet away, as if manifested by my unruly thoughts.
But my thoughts clearly have nothing to do with this. Even my sexually fertile imagination isn’t inventive enough to summon Starling in full Sex Princess regalia.
Fuck, she looks…incredible.
The silky blue-green dress hugs her curves and brings out the sparkle in her emerald eyes, her hair is pulled up in complicated coils I’m dying to bury my fingers in, and whatever she’s got on under the dress is doing something fantastic to her breasts. The creamy white mounds bounce lightly on her chest as she laughs, making my mouth go dry as she says something about cooties that I can’t decipher through the lust haze.
“Oh, I agree,” Carolina says, nodding seriously. “Absolutely a cootie-spreading gig. That’s why I’m only kissing on the cheek or with closed lips from now on.” She reaches out, giving my arm a familiar squeeze. “But Christian’s special. Ex-boyfriends get the full kissing booth experience.”
“You two used to date?” Starling’s brows lift as she glances my way.
“We did,” Carolina says as I continue to gape at Starling in her princess outfit like the simple man beast I am. I do a good “savvy human who’s been around the block” impression, but at heart, I’m like most men—easily bowled over by a gorgeous girl with incredible cleavage.
“But don’t worry about it,” Carolina continues. “If you two are dating, I have no interest in getting in the way. Chris and I broke up over a year ago and I’m with an amazing guy who’s all about commitment.” She shrugs one bare shoulder. “But Victor’s a pilot and gone on a trip this weekend, so he couldn’t be my first customer.” Her dark eyes flash as she adds, “And he doesn’t mind if I kiss another man every now and then. He’s actually kind of into it. When we go dancing, he likes it if I start making out with someone else, just so he can barge in and act mad about it after. Then we go home and have amazing makeup sex.”
She blinks, biting her lip as she glances between Starling and Nora, Barrett’s neighbor, who I’ve only just realized is standing behind Starling. “Is that oversharing? My sister says I have an oversharing problem, but I just want to be sex positive. It’s weird that Americans are still so squeamish about sex. Right? Like, corporations can use it to sell everything from socks to lip balm to tractor parts, but we can’t talk about it in public without being embarrassed? So weird.”
“I can see that,” Starling says diplomatically. “But Christian and I aren’t dating.” She beams a smile my way. “I’m his boss. At least for a little longer. He’s taking a job in Minneapolis.”
“Oh, wow,” Carolina says, shifting her focus my way. “That’s amazing! I adore Minneapolis. I’d move there in a heartbeat if I could afford it. But teaching yoga doesn’t pay enough for city living. Still, I love what I do. What’s better than helping people breathe, be in the moment, and feel good in their bodies?”
“I love your classes,” Nora says. “I’ve been meaning to get back into a regular practice, but I always find an excuse to work instead. One of the hazards of working from home, I guess. And Gram gets anxious if I’m gone when she wakes up in the morning.”
“That’s okay,” Carolina says. “There are lots of things you can do at home, and I have some free mini classes on YouTube. You want the link to my channel?”
“Christian, could I talk to you for a second?” Starling nods toward the booth next to Carolina’s, where a woman is making pottery with a foot-pumped wheel under a brightly colored tent.
“Sure,” I say, my mouth finally deciding to work again. Saying goodbye to Carolina, I leave her chatting with Nora about yoga and step behind the pottery tent with Starling. “What’s up?” I ask, willing myself not to let my eyes drift below her stubborn little chin.
I will not look at her cleavage.
Or at least I won’t let her catch me looking at her cleavage…
Fuck, I knew I should have stayed home today. But Matty wanted me to film his jousting match so he can work on his form and Melissa is down a server at the banquet tonight and needs me to bartend. I figured I might as well come early and wander around the fair. I was hoping it would keep my mind off Starling and my as-yet-undiscovered-skunk-crime, but clearly luck is not on my side.
“How’s Bella settling in?” Starling asks, flinching when I shush her. “What?” She glances over her shoulder, then back at me. “There’s no one around.”
“It’s best to be careful,” I whisper, glancing over my shoulder, too, just to be safe. “I don’t need a run-in with the law right before I start my new job. I’m sure Katia wouldn’t want a felon working at a shelter for vulnerable women.”
Starling gives a little roll of her eyes. “Oh, come on. I told you last night. You aren’t going to be a felon. Even if you got caught, illegal possession of a skunk is a misdemeanor, not a felony. And so far, no one has even noticed that Bella’s gone. They probably won’t until Sheila gets back on Monday. And thanks to the camera outage, Bella’s disappearance is a mystery that will likely never be solved.”
“Says the woman who isn’t harboring a fugitive,” I mutter.
“Well, not currently,” she counters, “but I’ve been in your shoes. When I first brought Kyle to my dorm, I had to sneak him up to the roof two or three times a day so he could play and use the bathroom. And he was big and loud and not sure if he trusted humans. Don’t even get me started on the challenges of coaxing a wild turkey into an elevator.”
“And you got caught,” I remind her. “And kicked out of the dorm.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Semantics, caused by tattletales, and irrelevant to your situation. You won’t get caught. Bella is already domesticated, she adores you, and a skunk doesn’t need nearly as much room to roam and flap as a fully-grown male turkey. You’re both going to be fine and live happily ever after.”
“Assuming I can find a house with a fenced-in yard in Minneapolis.”
“You’ll find one,” Starling says. “As long as you don’t mind a little commute to Warm Hearts, there are several options actually. I started looking at rentals this morning while Nora was doing my hair and found the cutest little house in the arts district. It’s a bungalow with a great yard and a workshop out back in case you wanted to fix bikes in your spare time.”
My brows lift. “You looked for rentals. For me?”
“Of course,” she says, looking flustered. “I mean, I’m at least partially responsible for your skunk daddy status. I figured the least I could do was help you find a new place to live.”
“That’s…nice. Thanks,” I say, the urge to let my gaze wander to the twin swells above her neckline stronger than ever, proving it’s vital I end this chat—ASAP.
This is how it is with Starling. Warm feelings and attraction are all tangled up together. I more than want her. I want to be with her, do nice things for her, show her how much I appreciate the nice things she does for me…
It’s dangerous, a fact proven when she steps closer and whispers, “Of course, I’m happy to help,” sending twin waves of hunger flooding through my bloodstream.
I simultaneously want to pull her in for a friendly hug and pin her against the nearest wall and get my hands under her fancy skirt. A man could get lost under that skirt, and I already know I wouldn’t ever want to be found.
I’m about to make an excuse to bolt—or drag her in for a kiss right here in front of half of Bad Dog and likely several members of my extended family—when a piercing scream cuts through the air.
Starling and I spin in unison to see Nora climbing up onto the counter of the kissing booth, fleeing a snarling cat on a leash.