Presley narrowed her eyes. “That wasn’t a no.”
More laughter. “They’re more scared of us. I promise. Come on, let’s set up.”
Another thought hit her. “Are we sleeping here tonight?” She tried to keep her tone casual I’m-cool-with-that calm.
Beckett set his backpack down, faced her fully. “You said you trusted me, but your words and the look on your face suggest otherwise.”
“No. I do. I really do, but… well,are we?”
“No. I promise we’ll sleep in the almost-comfortable bed in my cabin. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up there and I’ll pretend that this hasn’t been one of the best weeks of my life.”
Stepping into him, she went up on tiptoes. “Don’t pretend that. Don’t forget me, Beckett Keller.” Because she damn sure wouldn’t be able to forget him.
As he closed the distance between them, he whispered, “I couldn’t.”
Though she sensed he didn’t want to pull back, he did. He set up a surprisingly cozy seating area, along with a few little lanterns that buzzed with electricity.
He looked up from his tasks. “Bugs get worse in the summer, but this will keep them from snacking on us.”
She did her best not to cringe. She preferred to do the snacking. She must not have hidden her concerns well.
“Give me five minutes, city girl. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”
The backpack of wonders continued to produce a wealth of goodies. A small mason jar–shaped container turned into a miniature fire. He unrolled another sleeping bag that she felt certain would never go back in its carrier, then put a bento box and two juice boxes beside the setup.Next, he settled himself on the seating, gestured for her to sit between his legs, which she did, then pulled the sleeping bag over their laps.
“Cozy?” His breath brushed her ear.
“Surprisingly, yes.”
The sky was growing darker, and she spotted a random sparkle here and there.
“Remember the twinkle lights?”
How could she forget? It was etched in her heart, along with all of his other sweet gestures.
“Yes.”
His arms held her tight. “You’re about to see how they pale in comparison to the real thing.”
She laughed, tipping her head back on his shoulder so she could see his face. “We do have stars in the city, you know. I’ve seen them a few times.”
His gaze pierced hers. “Not like this.”
Refusing to break eye contact, not knowing if she could, she whispered, “Is tonight going to ruin me for all other stars?”
“God, I hope so.”
Their mouths met like crashing waves, unexpectedly harsh, pulling her under, drowning her in the best possible way. His hand cupped her cheek, his body surrounded her, and Presley forgot they were outside, that there was anything outside of this moment, this man.
She wasn’t sure how long they kissed. It felt like seconds and hours. Forever and not nearly long enough. He pulled away slowly, millimeter by millimeter until just the tip of his nose was touching hers. She loosened her grip on his shoulder, her breathing uneven, her heart unsteady.
“Look up, Presley.”
Like coming out of a sleep-infused fog, she turned her head slowly to see the darkness lit up by more flickering stars than she could ever count or wish upon. From this spot, it felt like she was part of the sky, dancing among the stars with Beckett. It was an image she’d never unsee. If she was lucky.
“It’s incredible,” she finally whispered.
“Like you.”
