But suddenly she planted her feet only a few steps from the door and turned and said, “No.”
“No?”
“Nope. I’m not going inside unless you kiss me again. I’ve been very patient, Ethan. I’ve waited a long time and I think I desherve this. ‘Specially after you left me hanging under the mistletoe at Christmas. So I’m not leaving this spot until you?—”
He kissed her. Oh man, did he ever kiss her. She tasted like pizza and beer, and all he wanted was more. He didn’t want to stop. He knew he had to stop. Dang, he didn’t want to stop.
He stopped, straightened, shook his head. “Dang, woman.”
“Yeah. Fire, huh?”
He nodded, reached for the doorknob. “You ready?”
She smoothed her hair, pressed her lips, gave a nod. He opened the door, and she went inside under her own steam, heeling off her shoes as she walked straight to the far end and crawled into a vacant lower bunk without looking back. She lay face down with one leg still on the floor and didn’t move again.
Shaking his head, Ethan went the rest of the way inside, passing Willow, who was in the kitchen, putting leftover pizza into the fridge. She caught his eyes as he passed, raising her eyebrows in question. He ignored her and continued to the bunk all the way back. Someone was in one of the two showers, everyone else was in the other bunks. Trevor snored softly. Drew muttered in her sleep. Baxter’s mouth was slightly open. He didn’t think anyone was awake besides him and Willow, and whoever was in the shower. Must’ve been Orrin.
He knelt low and tugged the blankets out from under Lily. She shifted and muttered, and then her hands were at the fly of her jeans, and before he could do much of anything, she was shoving them off, down her hips, down her curvy thighs and slender calves to her ankles.
“Uh, Willow?” he whispered, and he turned, but she’d gone outside. He could see her moving around out there, picking things up.
Lily was kicking her feet in slow motion in a failed attempt to remove her jeans. She had light-blue panties underneath. He peeled the jeans over her feet, and draped them across the foot of the bed, while she continued writhing around under the covers. When she emerged, she still wore the satiny dark-blue tank top, but her bra dangled from one finger. She started to throw it, but he grabbed it first and laid it atop the jeans.
She flung back the covers then, and smiling sleepily, patted the mattress beside her. The blouse clung to her breasts like paint, leaving nothing to his imagination. He reached down and pulled the covers over her, then he turned to head back outside, moving fast, like the very devil was nipping at his heels.
The brisk night air smacked his face, and he welcomed it as he closed the bunkhouse door behind him.
Willow was out there, gathering beer bottles and cans into their respective boxes. He went to the hose, already attached to an outdoor spigot, turned it on and aimed it at the fire pit. As she moved around in the darkness, Willow said, “Saw that kiss.” And when he looked her way sharply, she added, “Kitchen window.”
He shrugged.
She moved past him, gathering more bottles.
He set the hose aside, took up a fire-rake and stirred the coals around. Then he turned the hose on again. He didn’t reply to Willow’s observation because he didn’t know how. He’d kissed Lily. He’d devoured her. Twice. What was there to say?
“She’s a tender thing, you know that, don’t you?”
“Aren’t we all?”
“Well, yeah, but if you’re just gonna leave again?—”
“I know.”
She nodded, carried a 24-pack of empties over to the front door. He shut off the water and wound up the hose, satisfied the fire was thoroughly doused.
“It’s not just you and Lily involved,” Willow said. “You break her heart, it’s gonna mess with Maria and Harrison, too.”
“I…hadn’t thought of that.” He started gathering up the chairs, folding them and sliding them into their respective carrying bags.
But Willow wasn’t finished. “It could drive a wedge right through the family, Bubba. And family’s all we got, when it comes down to it.”
He lowered his head. Willow did her best to call him Ethan most of the time, but when she was angry, she reverted to using his childhood nickname to make sure he knew it. “I hear you.”
“You’d better.” Then she sighed, looking around the site. “I think we got everything. I’m hittin’ the rack.” She reached for the door, but when he didn’t move, she turned back. “You comin’?”
“I’m uh—I’m fixin’ to sleep in my truck,” he said. “I think it’s for the best.”
“You’ll freeze your hindquarters off. Go on back to the house, sleep in your room.”
