Chapter 36 Owen
I know we’re going to have to stop soon because we’re in public, but, thankfully, no one else seems to be looking for an autobiography right now. Her soft lips caress mine as we’re surrounded by books. My arms tighten around her waist and I lift her off her feet and spin us around in a circle, causing her to let out a little squeal of surprise.
Something about just being with her seems to unlock a new sense of joy in me. I don’t know the last time I felt this free to really be myself.
“You ready to pick out a few books?” I ask, setting her back down, but keeping my hands on her hips.
Her fingers are locked behind my neck as she looks up at me, her cheeks a little flushed. “What am I picking out books for?”
“To read.”
“Are we sitting on the floor here and sampling them for our date?”
There’s that word again. She’s called this a date before and each time I hear it, something stirs inside of me.
“We could if that’s what you’d like to do,” I say. “Or, we can get a few and read on the beach.”
“Oh, I love that idea,” she says, tugging me down for a quick kiss. One hand travels down my arm until she has our fingers entwined, giving me a tug. Happily, I follow her as she scans the shelves until she finds a book by a photographer who has done various projects where he takes photos of a specific neighborhood, and then creates public installations within that same area. We continue on and I offer to carry each book so she can browse while still holding my hand.
“Okay, let’s go get yours now.” Her smile is infectious as she pulls me back to the fantasy section.
There are three books that I’ve been meaning to read and I make short work of pointing them out to Poppy so she can grab them with her free hand and add them to the stack. We’d probably look ridiculous to anyone walking by, but the store is pretty quiet on Sunday afternoons.
“That’s it for me. Are you ready to read on the beach?” I ask.
“Absolutely.” She lets go of my hand and sorts through the titles we have and starts pulling out hers.
“What are you doing?” My hand covers hers.
“I’m getting mine to check out,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Nope,” I say, pulling the stack away from her. “I planned the date, I get to buy the books.”
When she opens her mouth to argue, I add, “You can buy books the next time we come here together.”
”Next time?” she asks, that sexy smile appearing.
“Next time.”
By the time I’ve paid Grace for the books, Poppy is frowning and looking towards the windows at the front of the store. More specifically, at the rain coming down in buckets.
“I don’t think our books will hold up well if we try to read them on the beach,” I say, putting my arm around her and resting my hand on her hip, giving it a light squeeze.
“My place is about a mile south once we get back to the boardwalk,” she offers weakly.
“Well, if you’d like to be a little drier, we could go back to mine and you could get some Samson cuddles.”
Her eyes brighten at the mention of my cat and I chuckle.
“My place it is. Are you ready?” I ask, opening the door.
I catch a sparkle of mischief in her expression just before she runs outside calling, “Race ya!”
Cursing, I double check that the bag is wrapped around the books so they won’t get soaked and follow her laughter all the way to the awning of my building. We’re both dripping wet, our clothes clinging to our bodies.
Something shifts in the air between us, laughter dying out as we take each other in. The need to hold her, touch her, kiss her, hits me full force and I take one more step. My fingers tangle themselves into her hair and I kiss her.
The moment our lips crash together, I almost drop the bag of books. The kiss is searing as her nails dig into my back to keep us flush. A flash of lightning quickly followed by a loud boom of thunder startles us out of the moment.
Not wanting to fully let her go, I hold her hand and then pass her the bag of books. Pulling my keys from my pocket, I get the entrance open and we fly up the stairs to my apartment. No one is in the hallway, so I spin her and press her back against the door and kiss her neck while I fumble to unlock the door.
Samson greets us right when we enter and I give him a quick pet, then, in record time, set up one of his toys that he loves. It takes a moment to get his attention away from Poppy and I move the contraption into the living room just as she kisses me again.
Peeling off her sweater and leaving it on the kitchen table next to the bag of books, I walk her backwards toward my bedroom. I wasn’t planning to bring her back here for our date, but for the first time since moving, I took down my pull-up bar after my workout this morning.
My shirt is off before I shut the door, making sure it latches so Samson can’t push it open. Her shirt follows suit and I take a moment to appreciate the view of her standing in my bedroom, her hair soaked and her face glistening from the rain.
She’s absolutely stunning.
Just as she reaches for my belt buckle a meow comes from the other side of my door. Followed by another. And another. We both look at the door and see a little gray paw reaching through the little gap between the bottom of the door and the floor.
“Does he normally do that?” Poppy asks, her chest rising and falling fast.
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head.
The meowing gets more and more insistent as we try to wait him out until we’re both laughing at his utter insistence to be near us. Finally, we give in to my cat’s demands and put some dry clothes on, confirming a hunch I had that she would look amazing in my sweatpants and tee.
Much to Samson’s delight, we snuggle up on the couch with our books to read.
I vow to find a toy that will distract my cat for at least thirty minutes before she visits again.