Page 14 of Take This Heart (Windy Harbor #1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ESCAPADES

GOLDIE

I open up the family thread.

$100 to the first to congratulate us on WINNING

As we’re weaving through the crowd toward the door, I bump into someone hard enough that her drink sloshes a little.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” I say, instinctively reaching out even though it’s too late to help. “Get one drink in me and I’m like a newborn fawn.”

The girl—no, not a girl, definitely a woman, and one who has the most perfect cheekbones—glares at me.

“Watch where you’re going,” she snaps, brushing past me.

I turn to watch her walk away.

“Okay, excuse me,” I mumble.

Erin leans in, eyes wide. “Who is that? You know what?” She grabs my arm. “She came into the store the other day and asked a bunch of questions. She asked about you.”

“She did? What did she want to know?”

“Well, she asked about all of you…if you were usually in town full-time or not.”

I frown. “I wonder why.”

I look around the bar, but now she’s nowhere to be found.

“Hmm. Well, she didn’t seem very happy to see me.” I snort and grab my jacket, trying to shake off that little dark cloud. “It’s been so fun.”

I hug Erin and she groans when I hug too tight. “Okay, okay. I’m glad to see you, but you’re cutting off my circulation.”

I let her go, grinning at her, and she grabs her stuff.

“I’ll walk out with you guys,” she says.

I try, but I can’t quite get my arm in the sleeve of my jacket. Milo takes it from my hands and helps me out.

“Tipsy trivia queen,” he murmurs.

“I have a tiara in my purse,” I whisper back. “Don’t test me.”

My knees are a little wobbly as we walk out of The Loon. Milo takes one look at me as I try to open the passenger side door of someone else’s car and gently steers me away.

“Not ours,” he says patiently, unlocking his SUV. “Come on, Mildie. You’re with me.”

Erin blows me a kiss and yells, “Don’t make out too hard!”

“ERIN,” I hiss, not too tipsy to set her straight.

“Bye, babe! Bye, hottie!” she sings, disappearing into the night.

She lives close enough to walk, lucky her.

Inside the SUV, it’s warm and quiet. Milo’s hand brushes my leg when he hands me a bottle of water, and suddenly I am very aware of him. And this tension that’s been building for weeks.

“You make an okay partner,” I say, leaning my head back against the seat.

He glances over at me. “Yeah, you too.”

We’re quiet as he drives. And then, all too soon, we’re home. When I glance at Milo, he’s staring at me.

“That was fun,” he says.

I nod, my eyes dropping to his mouth.

He lets out a quiet laugh.

“What?” I ask.

“You should probably not look at me like that.”

“Like what?” I whisper.

“Like you want me to ruin you.”

The breath leaves my lungs and my skin prickles with heat. Suddenly, I’m leaning in before I even decided to.

“Milo—”

He’s already there.

My insides light up when I feel his lips on mine.

His mouth. It’s the mouth of champions. The lips that dreams are made of.

He kisses me like today is our last day on Earth and the only thing he cares about is worshipping my mouth.

He savors me, slowly at first. His hand comes up to cradle my jaw, thumb sliding just under my ear as his lips part mine.

I gasp—he takes it. And then all carefulness is gone.

I lean into him, my hand fisting his shirt, and he tugs me closer.

Pretty soon, I’m halfway over the console.

It’s hot and clumsy and crazed. I don’t even know who moans first. Might’ve been me. Might’ve been him.

He pulls me closer, his hands on my waist, and guides me into his lap. He groans when I’m flush against him and I let out a little whimper. He’s so hard. I want my hands all over him, my mouth, every part of me touching him.

We don’t stop.

And it just gets better.

Better than the art gala. Better than a minute ago.

His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just enough to tilt my head back as he moves to my neck. I’m making sounds I didn’t know I could make—soft, needy, wrecked.

He’s ruining me all right.

“You’re so beautiful, Goldie…”

His lips find mine again and we kiss until the windows fog. My hands are under his shirt, and his breath stutters when I rake my nails down his chest. My thighs are shaking with how much I want him.

Milo pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. Our breaths are fast and shallow, and his hands stay firmly on my waist.

“Have I just complicated everything?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper.

It sobers me right up and I start to move off of him. His fingers lift my chin and his eyes meet mine.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the last time we kissed.” His voice is husky. His expression is raw.

So have I, but I don’t dare tell him that. I don’t trust myself not to complicate things even further because I want to repeat everything that just happened, and then some.

This time when I move off of him, he doesn’t stop me. I open the car door and he opens his.

“Oh, you don’t have to get out,” I tell him.

“I’ll make sure you get to your door okay,” he says.

I fumble with unlocking the door, feeling all thumbs. Dad surprises us by opening the door.

“Need help? Looks like someone had a drink,” he teases.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, kissing him on the cheek. “You okay? I’m surprised to see you up.”

“I was just having a cup of tea. But Milo, do you mind if I show you something? I have an idea and it won’t take long.”

“Sure,” Milo says.

“Good night.” I lift my hand in a small wave.

Milo’s eyes slide over my face, pausing on my mouth. I swallow hard.

I stop by the kitchen, putting away a few of the dishes I’d left in the dishwasher, and when I go to my room, Milo has already been there. A glass of water sits on my nightstand. Two ibuprofen. And a little square of white paper, torn from what looks like his sketchpad.

Sleep well. You need your rest so you can hurl more insults at me tomorrow.

~M

I put my hands on my heated cheeks and try not to smile.

I wake up feeling like I didn’t sleep at all.

My hair is a nest on top of my head, and my shirt is doing this off-the-shoulder thing that makes me feel like an eighties chick.

I smile, thinking of what Milo would say if he knew I’d made an eighties reference.

I’d never hear the end of it. I’m in my underwear, but one glimpse down the hall shows my dad snoring, so there’s time to go make a quick cup of coffee and toast. I’m too tired to brave Kitty-Corner Cafe today, and frankly too nervous about seeing Milo.

I shuffle down the stairs toward the kitchen and then stop dead in my tracks.

Milo is on my couch. It looks like he’s just waking up, his long body stretching like a glorious panther.

And before I can slowly back away, his eyes find mine.

His dark lashes blink once. Then again.

And then he smirks.

“You slept over?” I ask.

Okay, it seems to be stating the obvious, but I’m not operating on all cylinders here.

He moves his arms behind his head. His voice is all morning gravel and cock-itude as his eyes travel down my body.

Oh shit. The only time I’ve ever regretted not wearing pants.

“Your dad fell asleep over there.” He points at the chair. “And the door wasn’t locked. I didn’t want to leave like that.”

I snort despite my mortification. “It’s Windy Harbor. No one locks their doors.”

His brow crinkles. “Oh. Right.”

“Okay, good then,” I mumble, turning around and marching back toward the stairs.

“Hey, Goldie?”

I pause at the bottom step, slowly turning my head.

He’s sitting up now, his hair mussed, T-shirt wrinkled, and smile warm.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

I stare at him. “You’re infuriating when you open your mouth.”

He shrugs. “Didn’t seem to mind last night.”

My mouth drops and he chuckles.

“You kissed me first, you know,” he says.

I gasp. “I most certainly did not!”

“But you wanted to. Same difference.”

I bolt up the stairs, his laugh following me all the way.

He is so irritating.

My teeth grind together.

And he’s impossible to ignore.

I’m sure he’s used to having hookups wherever he goes. Everything about him screams I can get whoever I want, whenever I want.

Well, I refuse to be another notch on his belt.

Those (very impressive) balls will just have to get bluer because I won’t be his convenient little summer fling.

Later, my phone startles me with all the vibrating from our family texts.

Dad

I was going to ask you all to send photos to cheer Goldie up. She’s turned into quite the grump with Milo around. But after seeing the picture from her that came through at some point in the middle of the night, I think she must be turning it around.

Grrrrr. Wait—what picture?

Noah

Geez. Believe me. We’ve noticed the grumpiness. Guess we have Lombardi to thank for turning that frown upside down.

Tully

I’m going to text Milo right now to thank him.

Scrolling up as fast as I can. Oh my God. Apparently last night I sent a photo of me cuddled up to Milo, smiling as wide as I can smile, and looking like a loopy, lovesick fool.

I groan into my hand.

Camden

I didn’t get much sleep last night, but Goldie’s picture is making it worth it to be awake.

Dylan

Bill says howdy! And that he thinks you and Milo look cute together.

Tully

Bill? You named him Bill? What the hell?

I am NOT a grump. But Grayson and Bill are the only ones I want to see right now. Seriously, Bill? Okay, pictures of the geese will do as well. And as you can see, I’d had a drink. Otherwise, I never would’ve been smiling next to Milo Lombardi.

Dylan

Sure sounds like you’re a grump. You’re the sunshine of the family! That is your role in the Whitman family. No changing the lineup now. What is going on? He seems like a great guy!

Someone else can handle the sunshine for a while. And you would think that Milo’s a great guy, Dylan.

Dylan

What does that mean?

I sigh. I’ve got nothing. Milo’s kiss has robbed me of my snappy comebacks.

Tully

I’ve had to take the sunshine role in this twindom. For some reason, everything Milo does makes Goldie irrationally irate. However, this picture proves otherwise. You look PRETTY happy in this picture, Golds.

It’s highly unnecessary and a stretch to say irrationally irate.

Dad

Ahem. See what I mean? Maybe I should leave you and Milo alone today too, and see if he can work his magic again.

Ugh.