“Please say yes.” I skip all the assurances and cut to the point.
“If you’re sure, my answer is yes. I feel guilty because—” She puts a hand over her mouth and squeezes her eyes closed. “Lots of reasons, but I really need you right now.”
I set my cup on the rail and cradle her face. “Hey now.” I brush a tear off her cheek with my thumb. “There is no need to feel guilty.”
“Okay. So I guess you can execute your plan to make people aware. I mean, whenever you want.”
Dag walks around the corner, and I recognize an opportunity. After our exchange last night, if he sees anything more, he’ll make assumptions. I’m counting on it.
The moment I’ve dreamed about for fifteen years is coming true. I’m going to kiss my Bonny Blue.
Chapter 7
Bluebonnet
Parker’s warm hands are cradling my face, and when he leans in to kiss me, my heart rate takes off like stampeding cattle. I’ve never been more thankful that I brushed my teeth.
Soft lips touch mine. Then I’m treated to the sensation of his beard on my face. I’ve never kissed a man with facial hair. Until now.
And I might write it into the vows that Parker isn’t allowed to shave clean. Ever.
I want to throw my arms around him and lose myself in this kiss, but dang it, I’m holding a mug of tea. And we’re pretending. Or I should be.
One hand leaves my face, but his lips stay on mine, dancing, moving, promising, wanting. Oh my.
And somehow, he’s read my thoughts because he takes the cup from me. Then his arm circles me, and I clasp two fistfuls of his shirt.
Somewhere my mug of tea is getting cold. And I don’t care.
Who knew Dumplin’ could kiss like this?
I slide my fingers into his beard, relishing the rough and soft of his whiskers. If I could somehow telepathically send Marilyn a message that I wouldn’t be at work, I’d stay right here doing this all day.
Someone lets out a whistle, and Parker pulls back.
My thoughts have really gone haywire. Pregnancy hormones are rewiring my brain.
Dumplin’ is smiling at me, and all I can do is blink. Inside, I’m grinning like I just won a blue ribbon. But I can’t get my muscles to respond to brain signals at the moment.
“I knew you were joking about the Monday hug.” Dag laughs from the other side of the porch. “If y’all are trying to hide something, you’re doing a bad job.”
Mason skids around the corner. “Who’s doing a bad job at what?”
“Parker and Bluebonnet were kissing.” Dag bumps the kid’s shoulder.
Mason gives an eye roll. “And they were hugging and hugging on Saturday. Hey, Parker. Hi, Bluebonnet. I’m glad you aren’t crying anymore.” He waves. “I’m going to eat now.”
Just when I thought we’d skirt by any bad news, Mason mentions crying. My thoughts start spinning but stop when Parker dips in again for another kiss.
I never knew he could play act so well. That kiss didn’t feel like he was faking anything.
He runs a hand down my side and pats my hip. “Let’s go in. You can drink your tea, and I’ll fix you a plate.”
I nod, then freeze when his breath tickles my neck.
“I’m glad you said yes.” His voice is low and rumbly.
Me too, but I still feel guilty.
