Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
He looked so disgruntled I snort-laughed. Just a couple of days after winning Brew Fest’s Best of the Fest award, my family had thrown me our version of a victory party, which had involved Nat’s Oreo cheesecake, a bonfire, and plenty of chilled mead. Pop had all but insisted that we take out his old wooden canoe for a victory paddle… and then had stood on the shoreline with my fool brothers, cheering and whooping as the little boat took on water. JT had upended us while trying to bail us out.
“Kiss him, Firecracker!” Pop had yelled once JT and I were both in the water. “Lay one on him and make the legend come true!”
“Poor Pop was so disappointed when nothing magical happened,” I told JT now. “I think he hoped the water would turn purple or a buried treasure would bubble up from the surface. Maybe we could take a quick swim today. Call it… legend-fulfillment practice.”
JT stuck one finger in the belt loop of my pants and hauled me behind a huge flowering hydrangea bush, giving us the illusion of privacy. I let out a stupid chuckle as I wrapped an arm around his neck. My chest felt giddy and light.
Shit, how much bourbon was in this apple bourbon drink?
“First off,” he said, brushing his mouth against mine in the barest tease of a kiss, “I don’t need practice to kiss you, baby. It’s basically my favorite sport.” He nipped at my lower lip. “In fact, next year, I’m thinking of asking the Town Council to get a Team Wellbridge: Best Kissers plaque added to the sign.”
I shook my head. The love I felt for this man made my brain swim more powerfully than any bourbon concoction. “I’d be down for that competition,” I countered. I tilted my head to one side and regarded him thoughtfully. “How many folks do you suppose I’d need to kiss in order to win the victory for Team Honeycutt?”
JT’s jaw dropped for a moment before he shut it with a clack. “Never mind.”
I laughed out loud.
“And second…” JT’s voice lowered in a way that made my dick hard—hard-er—and he pulled me tightly against him. “I think Pop got it wrong. I don’t know exactly what he thought was gonna happen when a Honeycutt and a Wellbridge who love true kissed in Lake Wellbridge—”
“I believe you mean Kiss-Me-Quick Lake,” I corrected.
One corner of his lips turned up, but when he met my gaze, his stare was different. No longer teasing but intense. Intentional. “I can tell you for sure, Flynn Honeycutt, that every time I get to kiss you—or hold you or fall asleep with you in my arms—it’s really fucking magical.”
My skin prickled with need, and my breathing tripped up. I wanted to make a snarky comment about him being so cheesy, to tease him in the way we both enjoyed… but I couldn’t. Sometimes, like now, the love and trust and sincere affection shining in his eyes just swamped me, until there wasn’t a single spark of sarcasm left.
Instead, I grabbed his wrist and pressed a kiss to his tattoo. The one he’d gotten so he could carry me with him always, long before he knew we’d be an us.
“Come away with me, Firecracker.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek a hairsbreadth away from my lips. He smelled so damned good, like expensive cologne and my own bedsheets. Like home and permanence and everything I’d ever wanted. “Let’s have our own celebration. Team Flynn and JT: Best lovers ever.”
“Yes,” I said softly. I would say yes to him again and again. As long as he would be there to hear it.
Because the path that had gotten us here had not been easy, but being in his arms was the sweetest victory I could imagine.