We kiss until my head spins and my heart races and every cell in my body is lit up like the end of a sparkler.
And then Jamison runs inside to grab the blindfold, I lock up the bakery, and he drives out into the country with all the windows down.
As the wind rushes through my hair and the sweet smell of impending summer sweeps through my head, leaving me breathless with excitement, I decide fighting through my fear is worth it for a night like this one.
What’s a little fear compared to kisses that make your bones melt and a man who turns your insides to mush with one long, lingering look?
And blindfolds. And toys.
And oodles of orgasms?
Yes, I have a feeling it’s going to be a very good night, indeed.
Chapter Fourteen
One Week Later
Jamison
A wolf whistle greets me as I step out of my car in front of Bliss River Catholic Church on the evening of the christening, making me spin to search for the source of the sound.
I’m hoping to see Maddie, though deep down I know I won’t.
She still wants to keep our relationship a secret until after the wedding—despite the fact that we’ve fallen so hard for each other it makes an avalanche look tame by comparison.
But I’m not worried that we’re moving too fast.
I’m not worried about a damned thing, in fact. I’m happier than I’ve been in years. I finally understand why Jake has that goofy, half-wasted look on his face all the time.
Love packs a punch like a fifth of Jack Daniels, except better—pure intoxication, without the hangover. It’s my new drug of choice, and I don’t plan on getting on the wagon any time soon.
“Looking good, J,” Faith says with another whistle as she crosses the parking lot toward me, shaking her head as if she can’t quite believe her eyes. “What did you do to yourself?”
I glance down a little self-consciously. “New suit? Shave?”
She narrows her eyes. “No. It’s something more than that. You look different.”
“Maybe you’re just finally realizing how sexy I am.”
She snorts. “Gross. You’re like my brother. I’d rather kiss a goat.”
“I’d rather be kissed by a goat,” I agree as I loop an arm around her shoulders and give her a good, hard squeeze. “How was work?”
“Good, but that weird guy called for you again and still wouldn’t leave his name. Did you ever figure out who he might be?”
I shake my head. “Guess it could be one of Dad’s old buddies from the department. Sometimes they call looking for me or Jake.”
“Or maybe whatever hoochie you’re dating has an angry ex,” she says, making me laugh.
“Not a chance,” I say. “And she’s not a hoochie.”
Faith perks up, her blond brows lifting. “Oh, yeah? Well, who is she? When are we going to meet this mystery woman who makes your voice sound all smooshy?”
“Soon,” I say vaguely, grinning despite myself. “Where’s your better half?”
“Mick’s already inside.” She falls in beside me as I start toward the front of the church. “He came early to help Naomi hang ribbons or something while Maddie closed up the bakery.”
Just the mention of Maddie’s name makes my chest warmer and my smile take up more real estate on my face.
“So, what did you get them?” Faith starts up the stairs leading to the massive wooden doors. “I got bedding to go with the crib Mick made, but now I’m worried that’s lame.”
I pull a face. “It’s not lame. Besides, Jake and Naomi don’t care about the gifts. They already have everything they’ve ever wanted.”
She shoots me a strange look.
“What?” I ask, holding the door open for her.
“Nothing, you just sound so…happy for them.”
“I am happy for them. And for you.” I punch her lightly on the arm as we enter the dim front hall of the church, a place that always smells like a mix between a library and my aunt’s moldy drawing room, but in a comforting kind of way. “I’m glad you found someone who loves you so much.”
Her answering grin has a goofy, love-buzzed edge to it, though she’s better at hiding it than Jake. “Yeah. He’s so great. I love the shit out of him.”
I laugh. “Cursing in church. Nice.”
She shrugs as we make our way past a group of older women clustered around the entrance and into the left side of the nave. “It’s a Catholic Church. All you have to do is confess your sins if you’re Catholic, right? And then everything is all good?”
“Something like that,” I say, pausing to dip my fingertips into the font of holy water near the door and cross myself. “But I haven’t been to confession since my aunt stopped forcing Jake and me to come to mass every Saturday night in high school.”
Faith clucks her tongue as we move deeper into the church, past stained-glass windows that paint the wooden floor in rainbow colors as the sun streams through them. “That’s a shame. Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.”