Page 66 of Bonfire and Bliss Bookstore

“Shhh.” He presses a finger to his lips.

The voices get louder—I recognize Babs’s loud laugh—and I squirm, knowing we’re about to be caught.

“We should invite them back to your house to help us bake,” I hear Mindy say from somewhere nearby. “See if they’re really dating.”

My eyes widen as I clock they’re talking about us.

“Yeah, I tried to set her up with Sawyer but she got all butthurt because he’s eighteen.” I grit my teeth at Babs’s ruthlessness. “The boy has his driver’s license. So what if he’s still in high school? It’s legal.”

“Oh, I think it’s real,” I hear Rayna cut in. “Did you see the way Monty kept whispering in her ear today? That boy is smitten.”

Monty’s lips twitch into a smile as the voices get louder, signaling the Liberty Ladies’ imminent approach.

“Let me go,” I hiss, though the second I hear the crunch of grass telling me the group is turning down this row, Monty does the exact opposite. Instead, he tugs me closer, sets a hand behind my head, and presses his lips to mine.

I’m so surprised that I don’t react at first. But when he licks against my lips, seeking entry, I can’t help but kiss him back.

I’d forgotten how good he is at this, how he knows exactly when to slant his lips against mine. How he tastes—a little like that smoky bonfire smell—and how he feels as he moves against me. The experience is all-encompassing as his lips melt into mine, and his hard chest and tight grip mold me to his upper body.

But it’s when a raw grumble works up his chest—vibrating between us in a way that makes my stomach dip and swoop—that I almost come undone.

The sound of footsteps and voices retreats down another row but Monty doesn’t stop kissing me.

Maybe he likes this as much as me. Maybe he wants—

“They’re gone,” he murmurs against my lips.

I blink my eyes open and notice his are focused on a spot behind me. I swallow my disappointment at the loss of contact.

“What’d you do that for? Someone could have caught us,” I breathe out, attempting to re-engage with our surroundings.

Monty still doesn’t release me. Though the hand that was holding my head in place shifts, and he moves to cup my jaw, pulling it gently so that our eyes meet.

“Well, if you were my real girlfriend that’s what I would have been doing”—he pauses and his brows raise—“and it seems as though some people need to be reminded that this is real.”

I nod, unable to think of anything other than the tingling sensation on my lips.

“You taste better than I remember,” he murmurs, his thumb strumming distractedly against my pulse point.

“What?” I mumble as my eyes scan his face, trying to understand why he looks as though he might kiss me again.

“Just practicing my dirty talk.”

“Oh. That was good.” I sound breathless.

His lip pulls up on the left. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I croak out, though I can’t take my eyes off his swollen lips.

I attempt to get off him but his grip on my thighs tightens.

“Just—” He breathes out. “Let’s keep practicing for a minute, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah sure,” I stutter awkwardly as I try to push up onto my knees so that he’s not taking all my weight.

His brows knit together. “What are you doing?”

“Probably crushing you.”