I keep my mouth shut because there’s not much I could really say. We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. We’d need to be more serious for that, and I don’t know if that’s what she wants. I know I don’t plan on even breathing in the same direction as another woman—it’d be no use. They’d never compare to the grip Pippa has on me. But does she feel the same way? Is there some man in this town who’s pining over her, just waiting for her to look their way? Is there someone here who’s broken her heart before? That she’s desperately waiting for him to look at her?
These are the thoughts that plague me as we walk along the dimly lit sidewalk. The gallery and cafe aren’t too far from us, but they’re in the opposite direction. I don’t know where she’s taking me, but I just follow her lead, too caught up in wondering if it’s too soon to ask her to be my girlfriend.
She must feel me go silent because she weaves her arm through mine and places her head against my shoulder. “Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”
I stare ahead, not really caring where we go. I’m too lost in thinking about what happens next for us. What do I want? What’s realistic? Most importantly…what does she want?
Pippa stops, turning to face me with her eyebrows raised. “You’re quiet. And not in the normal I’m Camden Hunter, and I’m broody kind of way,” she mocks, her voice going deep in a terrible impression of me. “But more like you’re in your head kind of way.”
I need to touch her and feel her skin against mine. Without any excuse, I reach out and brush my thumb along her cheek. She leans into it almost immediately. “I just got lost for a minute.” I look around us. “Where are you taking me, shortcake?”
She gives me a questioning glare for a few seconds before her face lights up with a smile. God, my heartbeat picks up at the sight of her smile. It’s radiant. I want to pull out my phone and capture it forever, wanting to always remember her looking at me this way.
“I’m taking you for a redo,” she states matter-of-factly.
My head cocks to the side. “A redo?”
I should be scared of the mischievous gleam in her eye. It can’t be good for me. She stuffs her hands in the pocket of my jacket, pulling me by the fabric to her. “Yeah, a redo. At Slopes. You’re going to make a better first impression on me.”
“I think first impressions are long gone. I’ve felt you come against my tongue.”
Her eyes bulge, her hand coming up and slapping against my mouth as she looks around us. There isn’t anyone within earshot, but she checks just in case. I smirk underneath her touch. God, it’s so fun ruffling her feathers and making her blush.
“Do it for me,” she pleads, looking at me with puppy dog eyes. I think I’d give her anything she wanted if she kept looking at me with those wide, adorable eyes. “I want to go up to the bar alone and have you slip behind me minutes later. I want you to buy me a beer—one that doesn’t get spilled. And then, if you’re lucky, I’ll say yes to a dance with you.”
“What if I don’t dance?”
“You will for me.”
“You aren’t wrong.”
She beams at me, breathing life into my chest. I used to think it was cold, dark, and empty where my heart should be. The only person I ever really truly loved is Gran—and maybe Beck. But I thought it’d forever be desolate for a woman. It turns out I think it was just waiting for Pippa.
Before anything else is said, she loops her fingers through mine and pulls me toward the last place I want to be. I tried getting out of coming here the first time for hours. Beck wouldn’t hear any of it—more like Margo wouldn’t. It was their joint bachelor and bachelorette party, and Margo was determined to come to the country tourist bar. If anyone ever wanted to interrogate me, they could probably lock me in the bar for days, and I’d lose my mind. I don’t do country music, and I don’t do people in cheesy cowboy hats. Yet here I am, letting Pippa pull me toward the bar without any complaints.
If she wants a redo, I’ll give her one. It’d be good for us. I wish all the time I could take back the things I said to her in annoyance the first time we met. I was being an ass because I didn’t want to be there, and I took it out on her. This time, I’ll do better. I’ll buy her the cheap, nasty beer because she wants me to. I’ll pull her onto the dance floor, even though the classical technique I was taught as a child isn’t anything like the goofy line dancing that was happening last time we were here. I’ll let her teach me how to do the dances with all the cowboy wannabes. Then I’ll pull her off the dance floor and back her into a dark corner and show her how our first meeting should’ve gone.