Page 85 of Magnolia Summer

She folded her arms and glared at them. “What are you people waiting for? Sit down.”

Lizzie whispered, “Celia! Don’t be so rude.”

She huffed and finally chose her seat—not on the sofa beside Truett, as they obviously wanted her to, but in a rocking chair. The rest settled around the room with a sigh of disappointment.

They all drank tea until Lizzie and Almira hurried the twins away, saying they needed to get them ready for bed. A minute later, Will yawned and stretched, saying he had to get to bed as well, even though he never went to bed this early. Celia wrinkled her nose at him as he left the room, but he only grinned.

Truett stared at his cup.

“My family likes you.” She purposely gave the words a dry tone.

“I like them, too.” He smiled across the room at her. They sat in silence a while. Celia could hear the tick of the clock on the mantle and the high-pitched whir of the crickets through the open window. She stared at her hands, folded in her lap, while Truett continued to stare at his cup.

“Well, I guess I’d better go.”

They both stood up. He placed his cup on the tray table against the wall and stepped toward the door. Celia followed him. After all, someone had to see him out.

He opened the door and let her go before him. They stepped onto the porch. Celia waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light as Truett shut the door behind him and stood facing her, his back against the door, as if he was blocking her way of escape.

“I had a good time tonight.” His voice was low and seemed to rumble in his chest. “Thank you for inviting me to supper.”

Celia didn’t say anything. Her eyes focused on the top button of his shirt. She tried to tear her gaze away from the smooth skin of his neck. He was standing awfully close to her. She thought about stepping away from him. She should step away. She should say a hasty good-night and dart back into the house, but her breath seemed stuck in her throat.

He reached out and gently caressed her elbows, drawing her toward him. She knew if she looked up he would kiss her. She kept her eyes focused on his chest.

She let him draw her closer until her forehead rested against his shoulder. She knew she shouldn’t let him kiss her, not when she was so uncertain about what she wanted. For that matter, she shouldn’t let him hold her like this. Before Truett, she’d never let a man touch her at all. One or two times, a fellow had kissed her hand, and she’d danced with a few partners through the years, but everything with Truett was new.

Where had her anger and bluster gone? They had deserted her, leaving her with a warmth that made her wish this moment never had to end.

Chapter 25

Truett held Celia close for a long time, neither of them speaking. What was going through her mind?

She’d been so scared at the sight of Sheriff Suggs walking toward him, she’d fainted. He wanted to reassure Celia that everything was going to be all right, that she shouldn’t worry so much about the sheriff killing him, but he didn’t want to bring it up if she wasn’t thinking about it. Mercy sakes, but she could get upset.

Her head fit perfectly under his chin. Soon he would kiss her good-night, but it felt so good to hold her, he was pretty sure he could stand there all night if she wanted him to.

“I suppose you should go.” Celia’s voice was muffled against his shirt. She made no move to let go of him or pull away, so he didn’t move either.

“I suppose I should.”

“I want you to promise me to be careful and avoid Sheriff Suggs.”

“I promise.”

“Don’t get into any more trouble.”

“I won’t. Not intentionally, anyway.”

She pulled away and looked up at him. “No. No more trouble.”

“All right.”

She reached up and laid her hand against the side of his face. “Your bruise isn’t even healed yet.”

He tightened his arms around her. His breath seemed to have gotten stuck in his throat. He wanted to kiss her but she looked down again.

“I liked dancing with you,” he told her. “We should have dancing at our wedding.”