Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(5)

“Not worried about stranger danger anymore?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Not now that I’ve had a chance to talk to you. Just let me tell my friend I’ve got a ride home.”

I wait while she checks in with a group of people before we leave the beach and make the short walk to my truck.

Once we’re settled, Clover gives me directions to her place.

“Are you renting, or . . .” I let it hang, wanting to keep the conversation flowing.

“It was my parents’ place,” she says. “But they moved to Florida a couple of years ago. They were going to do the snowbird thing, but then they decided to stay there, so it’s mine now. It’s a small, two-bedroom cabin. Nothing like the places on the north side of Pearl Lake.”

“Eh, they’re more like houses on a lake than actual cabins. I kinda love the smaller places on the south side, where all the locals live.”

“Me too, it’s a little more . . . laid-back.”

A few minutes later, I pull into the driveway and park the truck beside a dark blue Prius. The cabin is exactly what I expected it to be: cute and sweet and like something that belongs in a fairy tale. There’s a small, covered porch with two Adirondack chairs off to the right. Hanging baskets of flowers flank the entry.

“This is one hundred percent you, isn’t it?” It matches the woman I got to know on the pier.

She smiles and ducks her head again. “It really is. I’ve spent a lot of time here this summer.”

“It’s too bad this is the first time we’ve crossed paths.” I feel like I should give her an out in case she’s having second thoughts. “You sure you want me to come in?”

She nods once. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Okay.” I cut the engine, and we open our doors at the same time.

I meet her at the hood and follow her across the driveway to the front steps. She unlocks the door and ushers me in, closing it behind her and flipping the lock.

I take in the small space. It’s perfect—the kind of cabin that instantly feels like home. “This place is great.”

“I like it.” She tosses the keys on the counter and turns to face me. “Do you want to see my bedroom?” Again, if her cheeks weren’t already pink with sunburn, I’m sure she’d be blushing.

“Straight to the point. I like it. Do you want to show me your bedroom, Clover?”

She arches a brow. “Are you going to answer every question with a question?”

“Only the ones I feel require verification and confirmation.” My body is already responding to the idea of seeing her bedroom—and getting her into bed—but one step at a time. She may decide she’s not as into me as she thought after the clothes come off.

“Maybe, before you show me the rest of this place, our lips could introduce themselves to each other.” I tap my own. “Just a little warm up. See if the spark hits us the way I think it could.”

She bites her bottom lip through a grin and takes a step closer. Her warm palms settle on my chest and smooth over my shoulders. I rest my hand on her waist and dip my head down but wait for her to make the first move. She pushes up on her toes and brushes her lips over mine. Then she comes back again, this time lingering for a few seconds before she strokes along the seam with her tongue. I part my lips.

Her fingers slide into the hair at the nape of my neck. It’s longer than it should be, but I’ve been too lazy this summer to care. She makes a low, throaty sound, and her soft body presses against mine as our tongues meet and tangle.

Heat moves through my veins, and electric want zings down my spine, my erection swelling behind the fly of my jeans. I don’t know how long we stand here kissing, but when we finally come up for air, we’re both panting, and I’m really fucking hard.

“I absolutely want to show you my bedroom,” Clover says breathlessly.

“Okay.” One-word answers are about as good as it’s going to get since half the blood in my body has rerouted itself to my far-less-evolved head.

She laces her fingers with mine, and I follow her across the living room, taking in the tiles on the Scrabble board as I pass, and then we’re in her bedroom. It’s feminine and pretty, everything in soft shades of yellow and cream, with pops of vibrant green. On her nightstand are several books and magazines, including an old copy of Psychology Today.

I don’t have much time to process more of my surroundings because Clover leads me over to the bed and turns me so the backs of my calves hit the frame. She lifts her shirt over her head and drops it on the floor.

I bite my lip to suppress my grin when she looks down at her stomach and tries to cover the book-shaped outline.

“I would feel a whole lot sexier without this.”

“You’re sexy with or without a book tan line,” I assure her.

She rolls her eyes, but she’s fighting her own smile.

“Don’t worry, Clover. The last thing I’m worried about are your tan lines.” I sit down on the edge of the bed and part my legs, inviting her to stand between them.

She steps into the empty space and tugs my shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor before she runs her fingers through my hair again. “God, you are beautiful,” she whispers.

“So are you.” I drag my fingertips along her side and settle my hand on her hip.