The Bad Boy Bargain (Suttonville Sentinels #1)(31)

Now her cheeks went scarlet. “Oh, no, you don’t have to…”

“If it’s bugging you, I want to help.” He gave her a quick once-over, and she ducked her head. The shyness was cute. “Tell me what to do.”

She took a deep breath, then stepped in close and turned her back on him. He barely breathed as she reached for his hands and placed them on her hips. “On the count of three, I’m going to jump, and you’re going to lift me to chest level. Turn in a slow circle, then bring me down.”

“Sounds easy.” Crap, did she hear his voice shake just then? “Let’s do it.”

She let out a surprised chuckle, but this time she didn’t let her hand fly to her mouth. “Sorry. I have a problem with inappropriate laughter.”

He grinned and leaned his head on her shoulder. “Not so inappropriate, given what I said. Now, you ready?”

“Yep.” She stood up taller. “One…”

He tightened his hands on her hips, and he could’ve sworn she shivered. Her skin was warm through her jeans, and he knew he’d be sorry to let go.

“Two…”

Faith went up on her toes, the crown of her head reaching his forehead. Man, she was tall.

“Three!”

She dropped down suddenly, bending her knees outward, then she sprang up. He almost let go, surprised by the power of her vertical leap. She was so strong, he had to tighten his forearms and really hang on to keep from losing her. Between her momentum and the strength in his arms from baseball, he managed to lift her up so that her hips were level with his face.

Oh, holy shit. The view almost made him drop her.

It wasn’t just that he was getting a very close, personal look, but the way she held her body, arms aloft, legs bent gracefully, back straight, made him skip a heartbeat or four. She was every bit as strong as any athlete he’d ever known, and ten times as graceful.

“Now turn!” Faith ordered.

Right, he needed to turn. He made it around, slowly, without dropping her, then lowered her to the ground. She came down balancing on her toes, despite wearing little canvas tennis shoes instead of ballet slippers, and spun in the circle of his arms to face him.

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “That was perfect. Thank you.”

Their faces were only inches apart, and their bodies were even closer. Her smile faded as her eyes drifted to his lips, then back to his eyes.

Holding on to his courage as tightly as he’d held her during the lift, he leaned in, moving slow in case she decided this wasn’t a good idea.

She didn’t pull away.

He paused a breath away from her lips, uncertain. “I’d like to kiss you.”

A little smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “I kind of guessed that.”

Okay, that was a yes, right? His insides rolled. God, if he messed this up, she’d know. Faith would figure out that this wasn’t his nine-hundredth kiss.

It was his first.

When he didn’t move, she closed the gap and pressed her lips to his. Surprised, he didn’t shut his eyes right away, focusing on the tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. Then his brain caught up with his body. He pulled her close, pressing the length of her against him, and let his eyes fall shut. Not wanting her to notice he hadn’t done this before, he let her set the pace on the kiss, startling when she teased his lower lip with her tongue. Surely his heart would burst out of his chest any second. If it did, he’d let it, mainly because he knew it would run straight for Faith.

After what seemed like hours, she gently pulled away. “Did I forget to say it was okay to kiss me?”

He laughed, and it sounded low and gravelly. So that was what all the fuss was about. He’d need to sit down soon if his knees didn’t stop shaking. “I liked your answer just fine.”

A door slammed shut at the back of the arboretum. “Kyle? I need to close up.”

“That must be your guy.” She lowered her eyes, now shy. “Should we go?”

“Yeah.” Even if he didn’t want to. He’d kissed her—for real. And he wanted to do it again, but Casey was stacking pots loudly in the nursery, so he packed up the picnic instead, making sure all crumbs and traces were removed.

“You’re being pretty thorough with cleanup. Should I help?” Faith asked.

Her voice was shaky, and that warmed him all the way through. He wasn’t the only unsteady one. “It’s okay. I just wanted to make sure we left the garden in good shape.”

As they walked back to the nursery, Faith slipped her hand into his. “Thanks for dancing with me.”

He smiled, his emotions running riot. How could someone be happy, turned on, scared, worried, and triumphant all at the same time? He hadn’t been this mixed-up-elated since he caught the last out in the state championship last year, and the team rushed to dog-pile him.

He nudged Faith lightly with his hip. “Thanks for letting me.”





Chapter Twenty-Two


Faith


Kyle was really quiet on the ride home. She didn’t press him—there was too much to think about. Like how he smelled of starched cotton and sage. He’d been planting some that day—apparently Mom had asked to add an herb garden in the backyard.

The scent had her all kinds of distracted. But it was crazy, right? She still didn’t have a good read on him. So far, she saw no hint of the scary, delinquent boy she’d heard about. He had a sweet side, almost shy. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve guessed she was his first kiss. He seemed so unsure about it, and eager, too, once she made the decision for him.