“I don’t want to have lunch with you,” I snapped back as I finally ripped my helmet off my head.
“Yeah, ya do.”
“I really don’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“Ugh! Go away.” I spun to walk away when his words stopped me.
“Come kiss me goodbye.”
“Not happening,” I said flatly, moving toward the front of my parents’ little house.
He was off his bike and stalking toward me before I’d reached the front porch.
“Quit,” I ordered, pointing at his face. “I’m not kissing you.”
“Come here,” he replied calmly, moving closer.
“No! Knock it off.” I threw my hands out in front of me as I backed toward the house, starting to laugh nervously. “Go to work.”
His mouth curved up into a small grin as he watched me scrambling away, then his hand shot out and grabbed one of my wrists, jerking me toward him.
“Kiss me goodbye,” he demanded again, his smile never wavering as he wrapped the other arm tight around my back.
“I’m not kissing you!” I stated stubbornly. At that point, I actually did want to kiss the asshole… but it was the principle of the thing. I wasn’t backing down, dammit.
“I need to warm you up first?” he asked, his hand sliding down to grip my ass.
Oh, shit.
“Stop it!” I hissed, glancing over my shoulder toward my house. “My pop’s still home.”
“And?”
“Quit it,” I ground out between my teeth.
“Kiss me goodbye,” he repeated with a squeeze of my ass.
“Fine!” I went up on my toes, but I wasn’t anywhere near his lips until he bent down to meet me halfway. “You’re so annoying,” I mumbled against his lips.
“You love me.”
I jerked back at his words, the sentiment hitting too close to the past I’d put behind me, but he didn’t allow me to go far before his mouth was covering my lips and forcing me to open.
He pulled my arm over his shoulder as he sucked at my bottom lip, then gripped my ass hard as he jerked me up his chest so I could wrap my legs around him.
It was the first time we’d kissed in years, and it was more than I’d remembered. Kissing Cam was like falling into cool water on a hot day. Shocking at first, then it felt so good I didn’t want to come up for air.
One of my arms was wrapped around his neck and the other was cupping the side of his head when I heard my mom laughing behind me.
“Shit,” I gasped, yanking my face away from Cam’s.
“Come back,” he murmured, smiling.
“Unless you wanna leave without your balls, you’ll put my daughter down,” my pop said quietly, making me jump.
“Put me down. Put me down,” I ordered frantically, pushing at Cam’s arms.
God, I’d set out to not kiss him and I’d ended up eating his face in front of my parents. How the hell did that happen?
“Relax, Sweetbea. Your dad’s not gonna cut off my balls.” He chuckled, letting me slide down until I was on my feet.
“Don’t bet on it, Hulk,” my pop warned, making me take a giant step backward.
“Seriously, man?” Cam asked in irritation, glancing at my parents, who were standing on the porch. “We gonna do this every time you see us together?”
“We’re not together,” I cut in eagerly.
Both men ignored me.
“You can call me, ‘sir’.”
“Fuck off.”
My pop started laughing, the chuckles coming out deep and raspy, and I couldn’t help but smile along with him. My dad was a good-looking guy, but he didn’t smile very often—so when he did, it was staggering.
“I’ll follow you over,” Pop said with a nod once he’d caught his breath.
“I’ll be here to pick you up at one for lunch, Bea.”
“I’m having lunch with my mom—”
“No, you’re not,” my mom argued.
“See ya in a few hours, little liar.”
I stood with my hands clenched as Cam strapped his helmet on his head and fired up his bike.
“Seriously?” I griped at my pop as I brushed past him. “What the hell was that?”
“Watch your mouth,” he warned, following me into the kitchen.
“You pretty much just gave me to Cam, but I still can’t swear in front of you? You do realize, he doesn’t want to play charades at night, right?”
“Watch it, Little Warrior,” Pop said softly, reaching past me to get a cup of coffee before kissing the side of my head. “Knowin’ you’re an adult is one thing. You rubbin’ that shit in my face is really fuckin’ different.”
“Sorry,” I replied glumly.
“What the heck, Trix?” my mom asked in surprise as she finally followed us into the kitchen. “You’ve been after that kid for years, and now that you have him, you don’t want him?”
“I had a crush on him when I was young—that’s it.”
“Not five years ago you broke a girl’s cheek for sitting on his lap,” my pop reminded me with a smile.
“She was a bitch.”
“Of course she was.”