Sadly, there is no one else around.
I stop at the bottom step because talking and walking when I’m thinking about kissing is a dangerous game. “Ready to eat?” I hold up the bag.
“Oh, yes.” Her gaze cuts to the next cabin as Goldie walks out the door.
“Hey, y’all!” She waves.
“Hello.” Bluebonnet motions for me to come onto the porch. And I don’t waste a second.
“Goldie, hi!” I risk talking as I race up the steps.
Bluebonnet clasps my shirt, and I lean down to kiss her. She might be putting on a show, but I’m making memories.
Chapter 9
Bluebonnet
Acuprickle has to be a thing. When Parker kisses me and his rough whiskers press against my face, I forget about my nausea. I think it goes away, but I’m not sure because I’m only thinking about how Parker feels.
When I realize I’m cradling his face, I break our kiss and step back. “Sorry.”
He blinks, his gaze intense. “Please don’t apologize for that.”
Pulling in a deep breath, I turn and push open the door. “It’s funny because I was so queasy a minute ago, but when I kiss you, it goes away. I think it’s the beard, how it feels.”
“Does my beard bother you? Make kissing uncomfortable?”
I’m shaking my head before he can finish the questions. “Not at all. No.” If he brings up the idea of shaving, I might actually beg him not to.
That warm smile spreads across his face. “Then I’m willing to be a cure whenever I’m needed. Like acupuncture but with whiskers.” He sets two containers on the table. “Dig in.”
I blink, trying to remember if I’d mentioned acupuncture to him. I haven’t. He just always seems to know my thoughts. And I’m not sure what to make of that. I open the fried pickles first. After stuffing my mouth, I stop eating long enough to ask, “How’d it go?”
“It went fine. Mom even sent food.”
“Your mom feeds everyone.” I pop another pickle in my mouth.
Mrs. Fields always had snacks, fresh cookies, or something else ready to feed all the kids stomping through her house. And she’s a good cook. I had dinner there every chance I could. And not just because of the food. My house wasn’t much of a happy place. My parents argued for sport, and being the only child, I was often caught in the middle. And hated it.
He shifts around the table and drops into the chair beside me. “They aren’t upset.”
“It doesn’t make sense. If I were your parents, I’d talk you out of marrying me. Swooping in to rescue me probably worries them. What did you say to convince them?”
“Like I said before. They think I’ve been in love with you forever and jumped at my chance.”
I shove the empty container aside and reach for the burger. “Very funny.”
His calmness is a little contagious, and I appreciate having him on my team. I don’t believe his made-up story and can’t imagine that others do, but based on the kissing, he’s a good actor. So who knows?
He rests an elbow on the table and leans his head on his hand, angled so he’s looking at me. “When do we want to get married?”
I’ve just taken a huge bite out of this burger. So for an awkward minute, with Parker watching me, I chew.
He brushes the corner of my mouth. “You had a bit of mayo there.” He immediately wipes his finger. Parker hates mayo. He feels about mayo like I feel about mustard.
I nod, hoping he interprets that as a thank-you.
After I finally swallow, I pick up my water bottle. I’ve stepped up my hydration, which means I have to pee twice as often.
