Page 71 of The Way We Touch
She straightens, but before she can scoop them up, I scoop her up. Pulling her into my arms, I lean down to steal a kiss. She exhales a little noise as I part her lips, and when I slide my tongue against hers, her muscles relax. She wraps her arms around my neck, and for a moment, we’re lost in bliss.
Then I pull her lips with mine a few quick times before lifting my face and smiling down at her.
She blinks a little breathless, and her smile is the best thing. “What was that for?”
“Just wanted to do it while I still can.”
Her smile melts into a little pout, but her eyes are still shining. “I can live with that.” Rising onto her toes, she kisses me once more before pressing her hands against my arms. “I’ve got to get out there.”
Craig’s voice is already on the mic, and I hear the whistles cutting through the room.
“I’ll help you carry this.” I pick up the heavy platter of pepper-pizza, and she turns, leading me into the big, open space filled with smiling faces.
“The chocolate habanero is about five hundred thousand on the Scoville scale,” Allie explains on the mic. “It’s one step down from the ghost pepper, so proceed with caution. And as always, no water or beer! We have ice cream, milk, and tomato juice up here.”
Craig hits the switch. Orange, yellow, and red lights flash around the room as a fast guitar starts thumping, and Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash launch into the country classic “Jackson.”
A few whoops echo, and people bounce up to the servers for a slice. Craig and the girls on the bar are wearing cowboy hats and boots, and while the dancing isn’t as wild this week, people are clapping in time, and the atmosphere is still pretty joyous.
Dylan steps back, and I put my hands on her waist, holding her back to my chest. She’s smiling, watching the scene, and I get why Garrett wants her to go to cooking school. It’s clear how much she loves making these dishes and watching the response from the crowd.
“You didn’t start without me?” Garrett strides in from the kitchen, and he hops up on the end of the bar, dancing with one of the female servers.
He’s not wearing a cowboy hat, but no one cares. Dylan shakes her head, and when her gaze returns to the pizza line, I feel her body stiffen suddenly, almost like she’s been shocked.
I’m instantly on alert, looking around for what could’ve upset her. Leaning down, I’m about to ask, when a tallish guy with medium blond hair walks up to where we’re standing.
His hands are on his hips, and he’s wearing a pink golf shirt and khaki pants. A visor is on his head and a pair of sunglasses sit on the band. His entitled sneer reminds me of my father’s asshole friends who think the world belongs to them simply because they have a lot of money.
“What’s this all about?” He jerks his chin at me, and I’m ready to punch him in the face. “You’re dating a football player now, and you expect me to believe he had nothing to do with your decision to end it?”
Dylan steps out of my arms as if she’ll confront him. “You mean my decision not to date a cheater who acts like he’s too good for me all the time?”
The guy sniffs at her, sticking a hand at me. “Davis Kent. I take it you’re Logan Murphy?”
I don’t shake his hand. “You must be the golfer. I was wondering when you’d show up here.”
“I’m going to give you a little advice, friend.” He leans in as if he’s sharing a secret. “She’s really pretty, and you probably think all this pepper crap is quirky. Let me tell you, it gets old fast.”
“Tell you what,” I smile, straightening to my full height, which is about three inches taller than him. “I’m not your friend, and if I wanted your advice, I’d ask for it.”
He holds up both hands, leaning away. “Just a tip from a guy who’s been there.”
Dylan’s eyes are throwing fire, but I’m not letting this douche think he’s got something on her.
“I don’t like you, Kent, and I don’t take tips from a guy who doesn’t know a good thing when he has it.” I reach out and grip his shoulder hard enough for him to feel my strength. “That’s from a guy who isn’t going anywhere. Now have some pizza or get the fuck out of here.”
His eyes narrow, and he glances at Dylan. I take a step between them, blocking his view. “The pizza is this way. Or I can show you to the door.”
“I know where the door is.” He turns and stalks out of the restaurant.
Watching him walk away, I’m still a little amped, and I’m not sure that asshole has gotten the message. Dylan grabs my arm, pulling me around to face her.
“That was really great.” She’s smiling, and she hops onto her toes to throw her arms around my neck. “Kiss me, big guy.”
“That’s Lightning to you.” I lean down to wrap my arms around her, lifting her off her feet.
Her legs go around my waist, and when we kiss, cat-calls and whistles break out across the room. It breaks our kiss when we both smile, and she leans her face against mine before hopping out of my arms and onto the bar.