So I’m going to make sure it also does that for her.
And I couldn’t kiss her the way I really wanted to on my mother’s porch with my nieces right inside and potentially running out the door at any moment and with Sloan sitting in the car.
Our next kiss will be amazing. And it will need to be in private.
I focus on the texts instead of jumping ahead to later tonight. When we will be together, in private.
What will we tell people if they find out we spent time alone tonight?
I’m starting to care a lot less about that and that should be a huge red flag. But it’s part of this fun little flirtatious game we’re playing.
That you pulled me out of the mud.
I lift a brow.
So we’ll lie?
I didn’t say that.
It only takes me a second to catch on.
She is not going to go get stuck somewhere on purpose.
Mia, stay away from four-wheelers today.
Okay.
My eyes narrow. That answer came too quickly and it’s too simple.
I don’t feel reassured. I should have been more specific. Or maybe less specific. I should tell her not to get anything stuck in the mud. But I’m torn between wanting to keep her out of the mud and wanting to see what she comes up with to see me tonight.
My plans are for once I have her with me. Having this sweet, funny, smart librarian “trick me” into showing up is fun, and I’ve got to admit, good for my ego.
I just need to get the rest of my surprise for her set up so I can take her straight to my place after…well, whatever she comes up with.
I’m only two miles down the county road leading back to the highway when I realize that my plan is going to take even longer to implement, though.
With a sigh, I turn onto the access road into the pasture to the east and follow the three four-wheelers I glimpsed from the road.
Did I manifest them?
No. The storm brought them out.
More specifically, the storm brought the rain that made the mud that brought them out.
I know exactly what they’re doing. And it’s not cool.
I watch as they disappear over a rise and press the accelerator.
Yep. I know exactly what they’re doing.
Besides trespassing on Brett Elwin’s property.
I stop at the top of the small hill and throw my truck into park, getting out immediately. I’m glad I’m still in uniform. I opted for my tall boots today because of all the rain, and I’m glad I’ve got them on as I sink into the soft earth heading down the hill.
The kids on the four-wheelers are gunning their engines, then slamming on their brakes, spinning and sliding through the mud, throwing up water, chunks of grass, and mud everywhere. Their four-wheelers sink into the mud further in some spots, and they press harder on the accelerators to climb out. They fly up out of the stickier spots, then land hard, spraying more mud, coating themselves and the riders next to them.
They’re laughing and yelling over the sounds of their engines.
