Chapter 17
“How long does it take to grab a damn watermelon?” Toby heckled Justin as he walked up to the long fold-out tables lined with food.
“None of your damn business.” He nodded his chin with a crooked smile and sat two bowls of chopped watermelon squares next to someone else’s macaroni salad. Toby got closer to him and spoke in a hushed whisper.
“You lay down a mattress in the bed of that truck, or did you just throw her on top and?—”
Justin had Toby by the lapels of his shirt in point-five seconds flat. “We might be friends, but we’re not friends like that. What I do with my woman is my business, so shut your stupid mouth and don’t ever talk about her again. Do you understand?”
Toby nodded. “Understood.”
Justin let go of his shirt and pushed him off. Fucking idiot. Justin was cool with all the bunk boys, but that crossed a line. Blythe was more sweet and more pure than any other woman in that one-horse town. For some dumbass to assume shit about her just pissed him off.
The afternoon was a blast, as always. There were sack races and horseshoes—the people even teamed up for some egg-on-a-spoon game, where you have to walk to the person in front of you and transfer an egg without dropping it. Evie dropped her egg, and he had to console her when she burst into tears over it. She was a tough little munchkin, but losing hit hard when you were eight.
Justin felt a drop of rain fall on his arm. Shit, there were fireworks scheduled—what about the girls? It was everyone’s favorite part. The rain began to sprinkle, and before everyone knew it, there was a torrential downpour dumping on them. Everyone rushed to throw tables, chairs, tents, and all the food into their vehicles. Chris took Addie and Evie home before the utter chaos began, but Justin still needed to go get his horse and trailer. He’d left them at Silo Springs when they went back to grab the melon…and sneak in a few other things.
But that was his and Blythe’s dirty little secret. He’d take every chance he could get to taste her pretty little mouth.
His dick pulsed at the memory—he was playing with fire. Pretty soon the heated make out sessions he dabbled in with Blythe weren’t going to be enough. She was the damn chocolate chip sitting in front of a toddler trying not to touch it. His resolve was waning.
“Hop on in, sugar.” He lifted her by the waist as she put a foot on the running board. Before she could sit down, he threw a quick spank on her behind. She turned and shot a glare at him. He loved it when she did that.
“If you didn’t like it, tell me to take it back.” He knew she wouldn’t do it. The way her eyes flared at his dare told him she loved it. He winked, shut the door behind her, and jogged to his own side.
They drove back slow to avoid hydroplaning the truck. Justin pulled up next to the barn, and he could see three figures running and squatting off in the distance. Chris and his girls were probably catching frogs. Blythe flung her door open and darted out toward them.
“See you in a bit!” she called over her shoulder.
Justin wore a smile as he watched her run off. Could she be any cuter? He strode into the barn to check on his horse and clean up whatever mess was made. He finished with one stall, then moved to the others. Whoever had been assigned his old chore wasn’t taking care of things properly. He turned with a shovel full of manure to dump it in the wheelbarrow sitting in the middle of the row. His eyes widened as he saw Blythe walking straight toward him—soaked to the bone, muddy as hell, and beaming as bright as any star he’d ever seen in a night sky.
She’d worn overalls to the parade that morning, with her lace up boots that were now one hundred percent destroyed. Her hair was flattened with chunks of mud scattered throughout. He’d never seen a more beautiful woman on earth. He looked past her and could see Chris herding his girls into the house through the screen door. Justin dumped the manure into the rest of the pile.
“What are you going to do with those muddy clothes, sugar? It’s not my job to clean up after you anymore.” He rested his forearm on top of his shovel, one side of his mouth hitching up with a playful look on his face. She would have a comeback. She always did.
“So, what? If I stripped down and threw my things over one of these stalls, you’d tattle on me?” She popped a hip, her arms folded in front of her—conveniently pushing her breasts up to peek out of her top at him. Fuck, this woman… He tried to play it cool but failed.
“Sugar, if you stripped down naked right here in front of me, I’d have to do much more than tattle on you.” His look turned serious, because he was. If she said the word, he’d throw her over his shoulder and lay her down right there. He dropped the shovel, hearing it smack the ground. Striding to her, he used his arms to pick her up and wrap her legs around his waist, with one strong hand clutching her thigh in place. Their eyes were locked and her breathing started to stagger.
“It was just a joke, Justin…” Her voice trailed as he lifted a finger to move a loose piece of hair that had fallen across her face.
“I know, but I wasn’t joking. When I touch you, look at you, even think about you—I feel my soul shift.” He moved a hand to the back of her neck. “I would never force you to do anything you weren’t ready for, but I’m yours. The moment you give the word, there won’t be anything stopping me. Do you understand?” She nodded her head. “But I need you to know, this isn’t casual for me—I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”
His chin tilted upward, and his lips draped over hers. He felt her fingers threading through his hair as he kissed her. Her touch was like heaven, and the way her legs tightened around him told him she wanted him just as bad as he wanted her… At least, he hoped she did.
Justin let go of her legs and let her feet drop to the concrete—her body sliding down his front, now covered in mud, too.
He didn’t care.
He knew it was obvious, but he still wondered if she could feel how serious he was below his belt. Shit, it was painful to let her go. Pulling her close, he kissed her one last time, used his thumb to wipe a dot of mud from her cheek, and told her to go inside—with one more slap on the ass for good measure.