Page 22 of Hard To Fall
She sucks in a breath and turns to face me head-on in the truck. “Mr. Callahan. Did you just compliment me?”
I shrug. “It fits you is all.”
“So I fit here in Hearts Bend, cowboy? Is that what you’re saying?”
I glance at her and see wet hair and flushed cheeks. Her eyes are dancing with mischief, and those lips make me want to pull this truck over.
“You don’tnotfit,” I admit.
She throws herself back against the seat dramatically. “Whoa! Two compliments and a kiss!” She fans herself, and I laugh at her. I can’t help it; it slips out because she’s being so ridiculous.
“You’ve got a great laugh, Colt.”
Clearing my throat, my hands tighten on the wheel again, and I pray she can’t see my knuckles turning white.
“You always run headfirst into storms?” I ask.
“It’s the only way to live.”
I nod once. That tracks.
We pull into the parking lot, and the rain is still coming down hard. I put the truck in park but let it idle. Neither of us moves, and I’m not sure what the next step is here.
Luckily for me, she does.
Of course she does.Bold and beautiful, a little reckless and never afraid. That’s Lily Mercer.
“So,” she says softly. “This is where I pretend I’m not thinking about that kiss.”
I turn toward her. “Don’t,” I say.
“Don’t pretend?”
“Don’t leave.”
Her eyes darken. “Colt?—”
“Let me walk you in.”
I turn off the truck and tell her to wait while I jump out and run through the rain to her door. I help her out quickly, and we run for the front door, her laughing and me grunting along the way. I’m not thinking about who’s going to see me bring her inside. I know they all know she’s working for us.
We slow down through the lobby, and I follow her as she leads me down the long hallway to her room. She opens the door, and I step through as she shuts it behind us.
I turn to face her. The room is dim, with only one light on in the corner. “You don’t lock it?”
She flips the lock. “I’m locking it now.”
I stand there, warring with myself. I should walk out, I should leave. I already messed up by kissing her. Jesus, I asked her not to leave, and now, as if I haven’t been thinking of her since I first laid eyes on her, I’m in her room, with the door locked.
“Fuck it.” I take two steps, pinning her against the door, and she smiles against my mouth.
“This doesn’t feel like you hate me,” she whispers.
“Good,” I growl. I take her lips again, and this time, it’s not so hurried. I feel manic, I feel like I can’t get close enough, but I also don’t want it to end.
I run my hands down the front of her shirt. “You’re soaking wet.”
“Not yet.”
