I’m in the living room saying goodbye when I hear his truck pull up. “That’s Rip. I’ll see you later. I’ll be sure to let you know if I’m not coming home.” With a hug and a kiss on the cheek to each of them, I’m headed toward the door.
“Oh,” I say when I pull open the door to find Rip standing on the front porch.
He takes his time, letting his eyes roam over me. When he’s had his fill, his eyes find mine. “You got everything you need?”
“Yes.” I hold up a small tote.
“Why don’t you grab some clothes for tomorrow. Just in case,” he suggests.
“Good point. I need to wash Laramie’s from today to give them back to her.”
“Just toss them in your bag. I can wash them. She leaves them at my place anyway.”
“You don’t have—” The look he gives me shuts me up.
“Are we really going to argue over laundry twice in one day?” he asks, wearing an amused smile.
“Fine. I’ll be right back. Gram and Gramps are in the living room. You want to come in and say hi?”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t? They love you.”
“Kenna—” He looks down at his crotch and back up to me. “I can’t.”
My eyes travel to where he was looking, and I gasp. He’s hard. Clearly, obviously hard. “Oh!” I say a little too loud. “Your… um, yeah, okay. I’ll be… I’ll be right back.” On shaking knees, I turn to head back into the house to get Laramie’s clothes and some extras for me.
“Kenna?”
I freeze and turn to look at him. His eyes are smoldering. I swallow hard. “Yeah?”
“This is your fault.”
“M-My fault?”
He nods and takes a step closer so we’re nose to nose, barely a breath apart. “You were naked when I talked to you. This is what happens when I think about you naked.” With that, he pulls back. “I’ll be in the truck. Tell them I said hi.” He points inside the house.
I turn back around and rush upstairs. “Forgot something!” I call out. My knees feel weak, and my heart is beating like a heavy drum in my chest.
I did that?
Me?
The thought of me naked did that?
I can’t think about that right now. Grabbing a backpack from the closet, I toss in the clothes I borrowed from Laramie, as well as a change of clothes for me, a bra, panties, shorts, and a tank. Across the hall, I grab my own toothbrush and call it good.
I’m on the bottom step when I remember the cookies. Making a detour to the kitchen, I place the container in my tote bag for the beach.
“Bye again,” I call over my shoulder as I rush out the door. Once I’m on the front porch, my steps slow, and I focus on pulling in even breaths. Rip reaches over and pushes open my door before settling back behind the wheel of his truck.
“All set?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Everyone is still at my place. Laramie is going to make sandwiches while I get the cooler packed.”
“I can help.”
“You’re supposed to be relaxing.”
“Trust me, making some sandwiches and packing a cooler is relaxing.”
“I don’t want you working today. This is supposed to be a break for you.”
“It’s not working. It’s making food and drinks, both of which you need in order to live. So, it’s not work. I’m just trying to live.” He glances over at me, and I give him a knowing grin.
“You’re going to kick ass at this lawyer thing, aren’t you?” he asks with humor lacing his voice.
“You know it,” I reply as he pulls into his driveway. Together, we carry in the bags from the store.
“Hey. I’m going to….” Laramie’s voice trails off when she sees me in the kitchen with Rip. “I was just going to call you to see when you wanted to head out.” She looks from me to her brother.
“Gram and Gramps insisted I go, so here I am.”
“Here you are,” she echoes. “And you called Rip?”
I nod. “Yeah. He insisted I call him when I was ready to go.”
“Interesting.” She grins.
“Are we making sandwiches or not?” I try to steer the conversation from whatever it is she finds interesting about her brother having me call him.
Before she can answer, Rip places his hand on my hip. He leans down, and I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he says, in a voice clearly just for me, “I’m going to go load the cooler.” With a quick tap, he releases me and walks out the door.
“Looks like you and my brother might be getting your forever after all.” Laramie grins.
“Stop. He’s just being nice.”
“Uh-huh. That”—she points at my hip—“wasn’t just nice. That’s something my fiancé would do to me. He’s got it bad. You both do.”
“Sandwiches.” I toss the lunchmeat at her across the counter.