He puts it back on his head and nods. “Yeah, a gift from my grandfather.”
It’s a beaten-up bluish gray color with a silver embroidered Texas state on the front. Nothing fancy, but I always liked the way it looked on him.
“I can’t believe it hasn’t unraveled yet, honestly.” I lick my lips, willing myself to stop talking. This is the most normal conversation Diesel and I have had in ages, maybe ever. He’s usually poking fun at me, and I’m typically telling him to fuck off.
Get out! Time to leave! Walk away and drive home!
Diesel chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Same. It’s my favorite one, though, so hopefully it’ll last forever.” He takes a step toward me, nearly caging me in against the bar top. “So, I have another question for you.”
“Okay.” I swallow hard.
“About that night…” he reiterates.
“What about it?”
Diesel’s in front of me, our bodies so close our feet touch. “Was it your first kiss?”
Inhaling a sharp breath, I can’t seem to get enough oxygen. Why is he asking me this?
I remember how he asked that night too.
Blushing, I nod. “Yeah, it most definitely was.”
He cocks a brow, entertained. “Really? Because I remember a sassy brat who told me ‘yeah, right’ and then stomped away.”
My chest deflates as I exhale. “Like I said, thirteen-year-old insecurities…I wasn’t exactly an expert on boys. Hell, I didn’t even have a real boyfriend until my junior year of high school.”
“Chad was a tool bag,” he states. “Edward too. Your history ain’t lookin’ too good.”
“Mine?” My voice raises an octave. “Let’s discuss your lineup of Southern belles then, shall we?”
“Actually, I was hoping to have a repeat of our first kiss instead.” He leans down, pinning me with his hard stare.
The casual way he throws that request out has me blinking, slow and hard. “What?”
“Can I kiss you, Rowan?” His deep Southern drawl sends shivers right between my legs.
What the hell is happening?
Swallowing hard, I inhale a deep breath, trying to find my courage. “You didn’t ask that night so…”
“I’m a gentleman now,” he retorts with a cocky grin. “Do I need to ask a second time?”
Biting my lip, I chew it for a moment before releasing it and sliding my tongue across it. “Yes.”
“Yes, I need to ask again, or yes, I can kiss you?”
The smug look on his face tells me he knows exactly which question I was responding to. He’s such an arrogant jerk sometimes.
Deciding to give him a little taste of his own medicine, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face to mine but not all the way. I stop when our lips are merely centimeters apart, and I can feel his ragged breathing against my mouth.
His strong hands grip my waist, and he squeezes my hips, waiting for permission. “Yes,” I whisper. “Kiss me.”
Chapter Seven
DIESEL
As soon as the words leave her mouth, I wrap my hand around her neck and pull her lips to mine.
Sweet and soft.
Just as I remembered.
But this kiss is electric. Intense. A decade in the making.
My other hand squeezes her hip, and she arches her back, pressing herself into me. Rowan moans when I slide my tongue inside and taste her deliciousness. My fingers grab her two french braids, and I roughly pull on them like I used to when we were kids. Her head falls back, and our kiss deepens; our tongues fight for control as eagerness takes over.
“Fuck, Row,” I growl, sweeping my tongue along her bottom lip. “I’ve been waiting ten years to do that.”
Her breathing is ragged as we make eye contact. “I was only thirteen. That would’ve been highly inappropriate.”
“Most of my fantasies about you were,” I admit, shrugging.
“Oh really?” She cocks a brow. “Care to elaborate?”
My eyes gaze down her body, admiring every curve. “Hell yeah.”
Before she can protest, I grab under her ass and lift her. She squeals as she locks her hands around my neck and wraps her legs around my waist. I walk us around the bar and set her down on one of the stools so we’re eye level. Cupping her cheek, I bring our mouths together and savor her taste.
“I always liked when you did your hair like this,” I taunt, pulling on one of her braids again. “You have no idea what they did to my teenage boy hormones. Then you’d put on a cowboy hat, and I’d nearly nut in my jeans at the thought of how I’d yank on them as I bent you over.”
Rowan bursts out laughing, tightening her thighs around me. “That’s quite the imagination for a teenager.”
I flash a half grin. “That was in my thoughts just last week.”
She swats at my chest, but I grab her wrist, pulling her closer. “Did you wear them for me?”
“Do you think everything is about you?” she retorts. “How does that ball cap even fit with that big head of yours?”