Page 32 of Sunday Morning

I scooted forward and turned to face him. Isaac’s gaze dropped to where my dress rode up my leg, showing the skin along my inner thigh. I contemplated covering it, but I liked the way he looked at my leg. So I told myself that it was just a little skin.

“I want you to play it again so I can watch your hands,” I said.

His gaze lingered on my leg until he wet his lips and brought his attention back to my face. “Do you think your desire to watch me play is more important than my desire to smoke?”

The problem with hanging out with Satan was it felt too easy to be a little naughty. I unbuttoned the top button of my dress, only because it was hot, and I leaned back on my hands, which made the opening of my dress slide down an inch. Isaac’s eyes flitted between the tiny tease of my cleavage and my face.

I found too much pleasure in watching him try to figure me out. Was my fascination accidental and innocent or intentional and inappropriate?

I wasn’t sure.

All I knew was it was the music that made me do it. Thelove and desire I had for it helped me endure every obstacle, even if said obstacle was a twenty-four-year-old with a dangerous bout of sex appeal.

I sang the first line and waited.

Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he played the guitar. That moment was the most alive I had felt in years. My music-loving heart soared as I concentrated on every move his fingers made while the lyrics flowed effortlessly.

Isaac never focused on his hands; he only looked at me. It made me blush, and in a few areas, my voice trembled. That’s when he nodded his head, encouraging me to keep going. Isaac Cory exuded enough confidence for both of us.

“Satisfied?” he asked after the last note.

My grin won. “Satisfied for now.”

“Sunday Morning?”

“Huh?”

He jerked his head toward the front of the barn. “Get out of here.”

I faked a frown and stood, pulling on my boots. Then I draped the hoodie over my arm. The words “thank you” were on my lips, but I swallowed them. “Girls don’t like boys who smoke.” I brushed past him to the ladder.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmured.

“I don’t like you.” I climbed down the ladder.

“You’re just using me?”

“Yep,” I chirped with a huge grin on my face that he couldn’t see as I strolled out of the barn.

“Sarah, what are you doing?” Matt asked as he, Heather, and a few other guys stepped around the corner from the back side of the barn.

“I heard something from inside the barn, so I checked itout.” I took his proffered hand. “Isaac was playing his guitar, so I asked him to show me a few chords.”

“And he did?” Matt shot me a lifted eyebrow.

“Sort of.” I downplayed it. “He humored me for two seconds before saying he needed a smoke.” I was proud of myself for telling Matt the truth, or most of it.

“Is he still in the barn?” Heather breezily asked as if it didn’t matter, as if Tyler wasn’t standing right behind her. They weren’t officially together, but I knew he liked her more than she liked him.

The second I nodded, she winked and made a U-turn, heading toward the barn and glancing back to stick her tongue out. It was a test. She wanted to see if I liked Isaac enough to stop her.

I was with Matt, at least for the rest of the summer, so I just rolled my eyes. I didn’t care if Heather flirted with Isaac. He wasn’t mine. As long as Tyler didn’t care, who was I to object?

Besides, I didn’t like guys who smoked. I loved Jesus, and I wanted to do the right thing (most of the time). So, it made no sense that I felt jealous when Heather headed back to the barn. It’s not like she was going to be interested in his guitar.

“She’s a big girl. Let her figure it out,” Matt said to me, pulling me toward the chairs his dad had set around the bonfire.

“Dibs on the red chair!” Tyler jumped into the chair I was just about to take, leaving me nowhere to sit.