The breeze picks up, fluttering my skirt against my legs, as if to remind us we’re here for the sunset. Troy and I separate, his arm still pressed to my back, and we turn to the low sun. The sky is bright with a mix of oranges and mauves and purples showing off cotton-puff clouds.
Troy’s finger taps my arm, the movement both rhythmic and offbeat.
It takes me a few seconds to figure it out. “You’re doing Morse code? On my arm?” I’m used to decoding the dots and dashes when we write our secret messages to each other. We haven’t done Morse code like this before.
He taps the sequence of dots and dashes again. “I…love…you. But how about I simplify it to this…?” He taps another version that spells out three letters: ILU.
I smile at him and go back to watching the sunset in silence, my body tucked into his. This—us being here together, the sunset—feels so right and so good.
Troy keeps softly tapping the letters like a whispered endearment, and I release a content sigh.
Best. Date. Ever.
* * *
Troy parks on his driveway,which is strange since he usually parks in the garage. He gets out of his truck, walks to the passenger door, and helps me down. He links his fingers with mine, and we slowly walk along the path to his front door, as neither of us wants the evening to end.
Troy turns to me, humor and heat and love shining in his eyes. “I had a great time.”
A full smile stretches across my lips, ripe with amusement and rich with longing. “I did too. That has to be the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
“I hope that means there’ll be a second date.” His voice is deep and oh-so husky.
A soft laugh tickles my throat, masking how turned-on I am from the way he’s looking at me. “Yes, there’ll be a second date. If you want there to be one.”
“Definitely.” He leans down and kisses my cheek, the press of his lips tender and brief.
Troy pulls away and unlocks the front door. “Well, good night, Jess.” He turns and starts to leave.
I grab his arm. “Um, where are you going?”
“Home.”
I glance up at the house. Yep, it’s Troy’s house. For a heartbeat, I thought we’d been sucked into theTwilight Zone.
Troy jogs to his truck, climbs in, and turns over the engine. The garage door lifts open, and I laugh.
Butterscotch is waiting by the front door when I go into the house. “Your daddy is coming in through the garage door,” I tell him.
Butterscotch turns his head in that direction and scurries toward the laundry room. I follow him, albeit at a slower pace, and let Bailey out of the extra crate I keep here. I hug her, relief washing through me that I didn’t need her with me this evening.
The hum of the garage door closing comes from the other side of the wall. Butterscotch stares at the door leading into the garage. It opens, and Troy steps into the laundry room. The dogs bark their welcomes.
“They’re asking how your date went.” Laughter rings in my tone, and I push to my feet.
“It was great. My date said she was game for a second one.” He steps closer to me, my favorite grin on his face. “I’d say that’s a good sign. Wouldn’t you?”
I can’t keep the big dopey smile from my expression. “A very good sign. Did you kiss her good night?”
“I might have. But I wouldn’t have minded if she’d let me kiss her again.”
I shorten the distance between us. “Really? How many times did you kiss her?”
“Just the once. On the cheek.” His grin remains in place, his eyes glinting with challenge.
My eyes widen in feigned surprise. “On the cheek? How do you know she doesn’t just want to be friends? Sounds pretty platonic to me.”
Troy leans forward and traces his lips along the curve of my jaw. “I promise what I feel for her is far from platonic.” His low growl of a voice vibrates through my body, teasing me, seducing me. I let loose a small whimper.
