Page 106 of Almost Rotten

Everything about kissing her feels good.

“Noah,” she laughs, finally breaking away. “My arms are getting sore.”

I straighten, then cup her shoulders and help her up. “Are you okay?”

“You worry too much, you know that?” Her eyes twinkle with affection, dashing my concerns.

Shaking my head, I crowd her, pressing her up against the fence along the edge of the train bridge.

“You let me worry about how much I worry. I just need to know you’re okay, honey.”

Grinning, she throws her arms around my neck. “I’m always okay when I’m with you.”

My heart stutters in my chest.

I really like the sound of that.

Always safe with me.

Her assurances might as well be dirty talk for the way my chest swells and my cock rises to half-mast.

I lick my lips, leaning in to kiss her again, but freeze when her face falls.

“Oh.”

That light sensation evaporates in a blink. “What’s wrong?”

She peeks up at me through her lashes. God, her eyes are pretty. Light brown with little gold specks. Like the deepest, darkest batch of late autumn honey.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, her lips tipping up slightly. “I just lost count.”

Shit. I did, too.

“You win by default,” I concede. “I distracted you, so it’s my loss.”

We’ve been up here for nearly two hours, placing bets and counting train cars as they hurtle down the tracks beneath us. The person whose guess was closest earned the right to ask the other a question.

So far she’s won twice, and I’ve won six times.

Helps that I’ve been coming up to this pedestrian bridge since before I could drive.

At least forty trains cross these tracks every day. The path continues up through Hampton, toward Cleveland, then cuts across the state.

I nudge Sawyer’s nose with mine. “Whatcha got for me, honey?”

She pecks me on the lips, and when she pulls back, she gives me a salacious smile that tells me I’m in trouble.

“Do you have any tattoos?”

“I do,” I tell her evenly. Technically, that answers her question, so I don’t elaborate.

“Seriously?” she huffs when I don’t go on. “How many? Can I see them?”

There it is.

Chuckling, I pull off my hat and run my hand through my hair.

Wide-eyed, she peers up at me, silently pleading for me to give in.