Down to My Soul (Soul Series Book 2)(35)

“But it’s the same for me.” I have to laugh at myself. “Maybe worse. I feel all of that when you walk into a room. Hell, I feel that waking up beside you.”

“Well, I can’t tell.”

“Guys just do a better job at hiding that shit. Only fair since we can’t even hide our erections. At least we can hide our feelings. Maybe it’s the male’s overdeveloped evolutionary response so we don’t look like pussies. A mating thing.”

I pause, tilting my head to consider my little Southern Baptist girl.

“You do believe in evolution, right?”

“I’m a Creationist, actually.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” I shake my head, grinning and on the verge of laughter. “Pep, that’s basically a fairy tale.”

“Says you.”

“Says science.”

“I believe that science and faith can peacefully co-exist.”

“But you must have questions. I mean, half of it makes no sense. Doesn’t even compute.”

“Is something less powerful because you have questions about it? Because sometimes you have doubts or you’re unsure?”

“Are we still talking about creation?” I frown a little, her question provoking me.

“Among other things. Is it really faith if it doesn’t require you to stretch yourself beyond the rational? Past your questions?” The intensity of her eyes holds me completely. “Mama always said faith requires at least a little bit more than you think you have. You should be glad I was raised that way. It may be the only thing holding this dysfunctional relationship together.”

“Oh, really?” Now that grabs my attention by the horns. “How do you figure?”

“I was raised with the capacity to believe in something that I can’t see and always have questions about, but have no doubt is absolutely real.”

She tips up on her toes and hovers over my lips.

“Like us.”

She comes in the last few inches to lay those sweet lips on me. I open for her and lose myself in that kiss for long seconds. She draws my tongue in deeper, until with a groan, I squat to grab her butt and lift her up. When my moustache starts slipping and sliding around our lips, she laughs, pulling away.

I catch the eye of a lady over Kai’s shoulder watching us intently, who gives me two thumbs up.

“Love is love, my man,” she says. “You and your little guy look great together.”

I smile and adjust my moustache. I glance back at Kai, whose eyes are still a little dreamy and glazed from our kiss.

“Pep, you keep looking at me like that, I’m dragging you over to one of those ships in the harbor to play rock the boat with my little boy toy.”

“No rocking any boats.” She pulls back pouting. “Your little guy’s hungry. You promised me food. And, no, I’m not having public sex with you.”

“Spoilsport.” I laugh down at her while we make our way toward a row of food trucks not too far from the main stage.

A few minutes later, I must concede that her weight loss is probably not from lack of food. We’ve spread a blanket as close to the ocean as we safely can. Kai is chomping her way through a fried feast that would daunt a linebacker. French fries topped with crab meat. Yuck, by the way. Not to mention the pork belly chips, a monster burger and deep fried Oreos. This meal should come with a pacemaker, but my girl, barely able to get her little hand all the way around this mammoth burger, is halfway through hers before I’ve even dented mine.

“What?” She glances up from her half-empty, grease-laden plate, sauce all around her lips. “You’re not hungry?”

“Obviously not as hungry as you are.” I reach over to wipe her mouth with my napkin.

“You’re not supposed to tease a lady about how much she eats,” Kai says, mouth full. “It’s impolite.”

“Not even when this delicate flower eats me under the table?”

She falls back on the blanket, chewing and laughing, looking up at a cloudless sky. Even after the laugher stops, her smile lingers. With a parade of boats in the harbor, music drifting from the main stage, the sun warming our faces, and the people around us clueless about who we are, I can’t think of one thing I wouldn’t do to make her smile this way every day. She blurs everything. Erases every line I’ve drawn in the sand. Forces me to rethink the boundaries of right, wrong, acceptable, never would, and couldn’t ever. She’s my absolute. It should scare me, but I’m just too damn grateful to have her. I’m just too determined to never screw things up so badly again that she walks away.

Speaking of . . .

“So back on the road tomorrow, huh?” I keep my tone casual, but the voice in my head; that overgrown spoiled boy who wants his way 24/7 stomps around my brain throwing a tantrum. We’ve only had a few days together. A hundred and one excuses swirl in my head to keep her here with me instead of going back on the road. With Dub.

“Yeah.” All traces of her smile evaporate. Her eyes, when they meet mine, are cautious. “Bright and early.”

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

“The car’s coming at five in the morning to pick me up from San’s.”

“I could take you to the airport, or the car could pick you up from my place.”