I can’t think too much about kissing Naomi. After we left the janitor’s closet last night, I was hard until halfway through dinner. Thank God for the tablecloth and the napkin in my lap or I would have embarrassed myself.
It’s safer to imagine other things, like the way she’ll smile when I announce I’m kidnapping her for a surprise picnic. She’s different from the girl I knew in so many ways—good ways that have me falling for her even faster than I did the first time—but I’m betting an impromptu picnic is still right up Naomi’s alley.
I pause on the sidewalk, waiting for a break in the line of passing vehicles so I can cross the street to Icing, but when the last pickup truck eases past, I see Naomi already on her way over to meet me.
She’s wearing a long, peach-colored dress made of something filmy that billows around her legs as she moves and a ring of daisies in her hair. She’s so damned cute it takes a considerable amount of self-control to keep from swooping her into my arms and kissing her right here on the sidewalk, in full view of the station and Faith, who is no doubt spying from the second-story window.
“I was just coming to see you,” I say, smiling as she stops beside me, unable to resist the urge to reach out and tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “You look like summertime.”
“Oh, this?” She laughs and gestures nervously to her hair. “Maddie made everyone put flower crowns on this morning after the sink broke for the third time. It’s something she and her friends used to do on the island. Allegedly, flowers in your hair bring good fortune.”
“Well, they certainly brought a beautiful day, and I think we should go enjoy it.” I hold up the white bag. “I’ve got burritos for two and picnic blankets in the truck.”
“You do?” She glances down at the bag, temptation and regret warring on her face. “That sounds amazing, but I probably shouldn’t. Everything’s falling apart in there, and I think Maddie is close to a nervous breakdown, which is ridiculous considering she’s the one who refuses to let me hire a crew to help with the renovation, but…”
She flaps one arm in the general direction of the bakery. “I mean, even Aria is on board with letting me foot the bill at this point, and she’s not even my sister, so I don’t know—”
“What’s really wrong?” I ask, cutting her off. I take her hand and give her fingers a gentle squeeze. “You’re nervous. Why?”
Her breath rushes out. “I don’t know,” she says, her gaze dropping to the concrete. “I felt like I should come talk to you. About some…stuff. But this morning has been awful—everything is breaking, Maddie and Mick are fighting, and Aria is freaked out that we’re not going to be open by Christmas Eve Day the way we planned. And now you have burritos and I just… I don’t want to talk. I just want to eat burritos and be with you.”
“Then eat burritos,” I say. “And be with me. We talked last night. I feel good about what we decided. Don’t you?”
She nods and her fingers curl tighter around my hand. Even that simple touch is enough to make my heart do funny things in my chest. Things that make me so damned happy and hopeful I’m not about to let her nerves get in the way.
“Then we’re good.” I smile. “Just relax and don’t overthink it. You always did think too much.”
“I know,” she says, her blue eyes still vaguely troubled. “I just don’t want to do anything to mess this up.”
“Then you won’t,” I say, stepping closer.
I lean down and press a soft kiss to the top of her head, catching a whiff of that smell that will always remind me of Naomi—a mix of her perfume and coconut shampoo and the sweet smell of her skin that’s nearly enough to get me hard all over again. Waiting to be with her is going to be torture, but it’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to sleep with her until we’re both sure this is going to last more than a month or two.
Once I have her in my bed, I have a feeling I’m not going to want to let her go.
“Come on.” I start for my truck, her hand still in mine. “Let me kidnap you for an hour.”
She hesitates, casting a glance across the street.
A moment later, Maddie—wearing a matching flower chain in her hair that makes me smile—sticks her head out the front door.
“Go wherever he wants you to go,” she calls out. “We’ll see you whenever you get back.”
“Are you sure?” Naomi asks. “I don’t want to leave if you need me.”