The Buy-In (Graham Brothers #1)(92)

“Mmm. Because this is very important work we’re doing.” His voice is low and husky, and it has me thinking about everything but glitter. Especially when he traces a single fingertip along my collarbone.

“The most important. Lives depend on these stars.”

My eyes close as his finger slides back to my shoulder and down my arm until he finds my wrist and draws lazy circles on the sensitive skin there. I’m pretty sure he’s hypnotizing me. Later, someone’s going to say an innocuous phrase like how was your weekend? and I’m going to start barking like a dog.

“I owe you an apology,” Pat says, and this sudden change of conversational course barely pulls me out of the mind-melting state of consciousness I’m in. I’d forgive anything in this moment.

“You do?”

“I do,” he says firmly. “First, for not getting home quickly enough last night. I wanted to be there before you went to sleep.”

I wanted you there before I went to sleep. Seems like these words are best kept to myself for now. Especially because I have no idea what would have happened if he had gotten home before I fell asleep.

“And then this morning. I came home and dove right into the whole Neighborly thing and didn’t even mention our kiss. I’m sorry, Lindy. I didn’t mean to make it seem like that kiss wasn’t the highlight of my week.”

Pat removes his hand from my wrist and cups my cheek, slowly urging me to face him. This time, I don’t resist. We’re only inches apart, and relief floods me when I see the same hunger in his eyes that I feel in mine.

“Sometimes with my ADHD I hyperfocus on something. This morning, that something was discovering all those posts on Neighborly.”

Did Pat ever tell me he has ADHD? I can’t remember him mentioning it when we were dating, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to start asking a bunch of questions. He clearly still has things he wants to say.

“That kiss”—his eyes drop to my lips—“was much more important than some community-wide gossip site, and I’m sorry if I made it feel insignificant. Or made you feel insignificant. It was very, very meaningful.”

Speaking of hyperfocus, I’m listening, but my eyes haven’t left his mouth. It’s such a beautiful mouth. And it is sweet relief to know he didn’t forget about the kiss.

That means we can do it again, right?

“So, what I’m hearing you say is you don’t regret the kiss?” I ask.

“Regret it? No. No! Is that what you thought?”

I drag my gaze away from Pat’s lips to meet his espresso eyes. “Normally, I’d expect you to do a celebratory dance or maybe drag me into a supply closet.”

His eyes spark. “Is there a supply closet in here?”

“I’m sure we could find one. But I draw the line at janitor’s closets. The smell of chemicals is a real buzzkill.”

“I don’t think I’d be paying attention to the smell of chemicals, but as you wish.”

Pat leans closer, his eyes now completely zeroed in on my mouth. Watching him watch me comes with a heady satisfaction. As he continues closing the distance between us, I catch a sparkle of glitter near the corner of his lips. Reaching up, I drag my finger over the spot. The glitter doesn’t budge.

“You’re going to get glitter all over me,” I tell him in a voice that tells him I don’t really mind.

Pat keeps inching forward, giving me plenty of time to resist or run, like he knows my two defaults well. “I hate to tell you, darlin’, but you’re already covered in glitter.”

My eyes flutter closed just as his lips brush mine.

And, because I really do have the worst luck of all the luck that’s ever been lucked, Jo’s class chooses to return at this moment. We jump apart, but not before twenty-two small voices chorus, “Ewwww!”

We really need to stop kissing in public places. I’m not even able to maintain a proper level of embarrassment because there’s a glint in Pat’s eyes, a promise that he’ll finish the kiss he started. Thankfully, when I catch Jo’s eye, she looks delighted, not horrified.

We definitely shocked her teacher. “Oh, hello,” Mrs. Stem says, and before I can even respond, she flicks the light switch.

As the overhead bulbs come to life, so does the big fan mounted in the corner pointed right at us, right at the open containers of glitter. And just like that, Pat and I are suddenly in the center of a glitter tornado.





Chapter Twenty-Nine





Pat





When I die, the mortician will still find glitter in some of my nooks and crannies. Probably even in my unmentionables.

The thought makes me chuckle as I’m scrubbing myself for the third time, watching blue and pink and purple glitter disappear down the drain. In the other shower downstairs, Lindy is probably finding the exact same thing.

But thinking of Lindy in the shower is probably not the wisest idea.

Not when we’ve just reentered kissing territory. I am not going to push too far too fast and then end up backtracking across the border. Nope. We are moving this journey in a forward direction. Onward!

I need to keep things moving slowly. I’m keenly aware of tomorrow’s court date. There is no way to measure the emotional impact it will have and even is having now. Lindy and Jo might be mostly pretending it’s not happening, but I can sense the underlying tension and worry. I’ve done my best to infuse whatever humor and lightness I can into this house, but in truth, I’m worried too.