Page 73 of Chasing the Sun

Which left Elodie with the middle seat next to me, practically in my lap.

She wiggled, trying to adjust, and I tensed as her thigh pressed firmly against mine. She leaned forward, her nose inches from the side of my face as she looked me over.

She was too close. Too warm. Too damn tempting.

The worst part was that she didn’t even realize what she was doing to me. The way she sighed, content, like sittingbeside me in the truck was the most natural thing in the world.

Like she belonged there.

My hand flexed against the steering wheel, fighting the urge to touch her, to pull her closer instead of keeping her at a distance.

“You’re sotense, Callum,” she murmured, her voice full of tipsy amusement.

I swallowed hard, gripping the wheel until my knuckles went white.

Yeah, sweetheart. No shit.

My attention flicked up and Sheila grinned at me through the rearview mirror. “Oh, this poor boy isstruggling.”

I put the truck in gear and focused on the road.

Get them home safely.

I ignored the fact that Elodie smelled like vanilla and tequila and something softer, something that always seemed to remind me of her.

I ignored the fact that I could still feel the ghost of her head on my shoulder from the night before.

I ignored the way her breath was warm against my neck.

I gritted my teeth.

Just get them home.

By the time I got Sheila and Rose safely deposited into their rooms, Elodie was slumped against the passenger door, blinking slowly, like she was trying to remember exactly where she was and how she got there.

“El,” I said softly, nudging her shoulder.

She blinked up at me, then beamed a smile like it was the first time she was seeing me that night. “Hey, you.”

I sighed. “Come on, Darling, let’s get you home.”

She hummed, stretching like a damn cat, her open wrap top slipping farther down one shoulder.

I turned away in an attempt to be respectful. Without looking, I adjusted the shirt to cover her breasts.

Her cottage sat in the darkness, just beyond the inn, the stretch of cedar fencing between them a quiet reminder of boundaries—ones I should have been paying more attention to.

Elodie was already attempting to climb out of the truck, her balance not great, and I didn’t have time for smart choices. Before she could face-plant into the gravel, I scooped her up, one arm under her knees, the other around her back.

She gasped as I pulled her from the cab and into my arms. “Callum!”

Instead of protesting, she curled into me, fingers fisting in my shirt, her breath warm against my throat. “Mmm.You smell good,” she murmured.

I swallowed hard. “You smell like tequila and bad decisions.”

“Those are my two favorite things.” She hummed a chuckle and her hands roamed. “You know, I like the muscles under all that grump.”

I bit back a groan. She was not making this easy.