Page 46 of Fly's Path

“Are you a sweet wine?”

“Rarely.” Sheri threads her fingers into my hair and pulls my head down.

There’s no need for any other words. My lips find hers, and passion flares between us hotter than it did the last time.

“Sheridan!” a woman shouts. “Do you need some help?”

Sheri pulls back. “No. I’ll be done in a second.”

There’s no way I’ll be done that fast.

A kiss like that deserves to be savored. “Don’t go,” I whisper against her lips.

“There’s work to be done.”

I hate those words.

Vests And Dresses

Sheridan

What just happened? Seriously, how did I walk away from that man without finishing that kiss? I must be losing my mind.

“Are you okay? You look a little flushed.” Savie stops spreading out tablecloths.

Only a little? That kiss practically set me on fire. “I’m fine.”

Savie stares at me. “It’s not hot in here, and I know you’re a southerner like me. You’re either sick or you…You kissed someone!”

There’s no need to announce it to the world. I glance around to see if anyone heard what she said. “It’s not that big of a deal.” That is a total lie.

“My kiss was.” Savie grins. “I’m hoping to see him again today, but I might have scared him a little. That man was shy.”

Not too shy if he kissed you the day he met you.

“But his voice…” She shivers. “How can a biker sound like a British professor?”

“What?”

“Exactly.” Savie pretends to fan herself. “Was your guy as sexy?”

How could a biker not be sexy? “He’s interesting.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

But it is. I haven’t quite figured him out, and I really like that. Watching people has been my thing since I was little. After doing it for so long, it comes naturally to figure a person out pretty quickly. But not Fly.

Maybe the kissing distracted me, and he’s an open book. I need to spend some more time actually talking to him instead of just kissing the man.

Why, though? Kissing him is fun. “Would you kiss your guy again?”

She grins. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Me too. Way more than I should. “Are you going to help assemble the florals?”

“No way. I’m going to steam the tablecloths that need it. Which seems to be every one of them.”

Dahlia walks over. “We set up the flowers over here, but no one has any idea what to do with this many flowers. Why did the florist say they didn’t have time for this and the wedding?”