Page 37 of Beneath the Blue Moon

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What could he possibly have to show me at this hour? He

turns off the road and drives down a dirt track, slowly maneuvering around potholes.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he replies.

I take another bite of my Reuben and turn to him. “This is

really good. You should have yours before it gets cold.”

“We’re almost there.”

I turn on the radio and search for a station, stopping when

I hear Florence Welch’s voice. Putting my feet up on the dash, I bop my head

while I eat my sandwich. I notice he starts tapping the steering wheel. That

escalates to humming.

“Is she saying ‘you’re giving me sexy dolphin’?” he asks,

incredulity in his tone.

I almost choke on my food. Tears spring to my eyes as I

double over in laughter.

“Sweet nothing! She’s saying sweet nothing!”

He thinks about it for a few seconds and then shakes his

head.

“I don’t think so. I have impeccable hearing, and I hear ‘sexy

dolphin.’”

“Yeah, ’cause that makes so much sense.”

He smiles, and I know he’s teasing. Smart—check, gorgeous—check,

sense of humor—check, amazing lay—check. The man is damn near perfect.

A few minutes later, he parks the truck and kills the

ignition. I look around, and all I see are trees, but I hear water running. Reaching

across to the backseat, he grabs a blanket before opening my door.

“News flash, Sheriff, but I’ve seen the forest before.”

“Come.”

I grab the food, and he takes my hand, leading me to the

back of the truck. The running water I heard actually came from a stream. A

mini waterfall cascades over some rocks a few yards away, the moon’s reflection

rippling in the water. Now this would be an ideal moon-watching spot.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

He’s parked the truck with the bed facing the stream, and

now he lowers the tailgate, lifting me up onto it. Sitting next to me, he wraps

the blanket around our shoulders.

“I knew you’d like it.”

“It’s so… serene.”

“I come here when I need to think, to just get away from

everything.”

I sip on my soda and watch him as he eats. It’s his special spot,

and he brought me here. That’s sweet… and personal. Despite what we just did,

we still don’t know each other that well.

“When’s your birthday?” I ask.

“January eighteenth.”

“Favorite color?”

He turns to me and slowly runs his fingers through my hair. “Right

now, I can’t decide between red….” His hand leaves my hair, and he swipes at

the corner of my eye with his thumb. “Or green.”

I drop my head to hide my blush. Damn. He sure knows how to

make a girl feel good. When he finishes his sandwich, I snuggle up to him and

watch the water as it makes its way downstream. This is perfect; being in his

arms fills me with a calm and sense of security I haven’t felt in years. I

don’t want to move, but after a while, I check my watch and see that it’s

almost one. “Do you need to go?” he asks.

“I should. The Johnsons will be wondering where I am.”

“Okay.”

On the drive home, I sit next to him, and he curls his arm

around my shoulder. I just want to be close to him. What’s wrong with me? I’ve

never been this attached to a guy in my life. But… I think I like it. Maybe

this dating thing isn’t so bad.

In my driveway, I gaze up at him, waiting for him to kiss

me. He walks me to my door and pulls me into his arms. I take a deep breath,

inhaling his scent before he breaks away. Placing his finger beneath my chin,

he tips my face up toward his. As his head descends, I slide my arms around his

waist. He kisses me gently, our lips barely touching.

“Good night, Casey.”

“Good night, Sheriff.”