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Dream On(110)

Author:Angie Hockman

“I had an epiphany just now. In your bathroom, actually.” I laugh softly. “I don’t think I ever wanted to work for a big firm, not really. Everyone thinks working for a big firm is the pinnacle of a law career because big firms are the most prestigious, and therefore the best. I’ve strived for so long to be the best at whatever I do that it was only natural for me to want a career in big law as well.”

Stepping closer, I run my palms down his arms and gather both of his hands in mine. “But over the past few weeks, you helped me realize something: working at Smith & Boone doesn’t make me happy. It makes me pretty miserable, actually. The hours, the stress, the clients. The lack of time to pursue hobbies and friendships and… other things.” I nibble my lower lip, and Perry’s nostrils flare.

“I’ve loved helping you plan this festival, and I loved drafting a proposal for the city council to open a community college in Buckeye-Shaker. There are a lot of ways to use a law degree that can help make a real, meaningful difference to people—everyday people who are simply trying to pay their bills, feed their families, or run a small business.” I squeeze his hands. “So that’s what I want to do. And I don’t know if I ever would have realized any of that if it weren’t for you. You encouraged me to look inside myself and question what really makes me happy. Like painting.”

A sly smile crosses his lips. “I can’t believe you painted that mural. I mean, I suspected, but I wasn’t sure until I saw you at the picnic tables. Thank you. I’m stunned.”

“I had some help. Brie was my lookout.” I let out a breathy laugh. “If you thought it was me, why didn’t you say anything sooner? Why didn’t you text me this morning?”

“I had to see you first—to ask you something face to face.” Glancing at our clasped hands, he inhales deeply. When he looks up again, his eyes blaze brighter than the noonday sun. “Why did you paint it?”

My heart gallops and I swallow hard. “Well, to stick it to your dad, for one. Painting a ten-foot-tall advertisement on his warehouse for his son’s business he’s trying to destroy felt like karmic justice, don’t you think?”

He dips his chin to look into my eyes. “Is that the only reason?”

“No,” I whisper. “I did it for myself, because it felt right… and I did it for you.”

He sucks in a jagged breath like I’ve punched him in the stomach. His fingers tighten around mine as he pulls me closer.

“Cass?” There’s an unspoken question in his voice.

I can’t hold back anymore. Pushing onto my toes, I close my eyes and bring my lips to his. The moment they touch, the simmering attraction that’s been building between us all summer explodes into being, as bright and all-consuming as fireworks on the Fourth of July.

With a groan, he hauls me flush against him. And then his mouth is moving against mine and… ohhhh my God, bliss. Cupping his smooth jaw, I put every ounce of repressed feeling I can muster into the kiss. His fingers tangle in my hair and he returns my intensity with interest.

I’m swimming in Perry—his rich, woodsy scent, the soft press of his lips, his hips fitted tightly against mine. His tongue dips into my mouth and I moan at the sensuous glide. He tastes spicy and sweet, like a cinnamon bun. My lips part and he deepens the kiss, coaxing pleasure with every swirl of his tongue and scrape of his teeth. When I suck his bottom lip between my teeth, nipping slightly, he smiles against my mouth. But he doesn’t stop. With a growl, he tilts my chin and kisses me again and I’m drowning in a pool of pleasure and need.

Because I need this. I need Perry, his lips on mine, and this feeling of heady, unbridled joy that’s threatening to send me spinning off into another universe. My blood is on fire and my soul is screaming out with rightness at his every touch.

This is what a kiss a supposed to feel like. Not a textbook recreation of technical mastery like it was with Devin, each move calculated to produce an expected physical response. It’s a meeting of souls, an exchange of promises. A revelation.

And now I know, undeniably and unequivocally, I want Perry.

He’s the one.

I think I’ve known it since the first moment I saw him in his shop, but I was too blinded by dreams and fantasies to realize it. I don’t want Devin, and I never will.

Devin. I have to tell him. He deserves that much.

With a gasp, I break away. Perry’s lips are kiss-swollen and pink, his emerald eyes wide with wonder. “Devin,” I choke.