Page 120 of The Other Side

His fingertips graze mine as he takes the plastic cup from my hand. My eyes follow his movement when he sets our waters on the wooden ledge against the wall. Butterflies soar in my belly, and I’m struck speechless when he grabs my hand.

He leads us to the center of the barn. Every tap of my boots syncs with the beat of my heart, and we weave between swaying couples. Eventually finding a sliver of vacant space to park under the string lights.

When Brant turns to face me, we seamlessly fall into one another. Our palms cradle, my free hand landing on his shoulder while his lands on my lower back. My eyes shut, surely as his do, and that last dance we shared under those pine trees continues with this one.

The first verse kicks in, and his chin kisses my temple. His woody scent envelopes me just as snugly as his limbs do, his chest melting to mine.

He’s a sanctuary. Protective and peaceful.

My hero.

Always.

“Remind me,” I say. The pads of my fingers lick the thin chain of his necklace before returning to his shoulder.

“Italian ices.” He murmurs the words, and a grin erupts across my mouth. “Studying for Mr. Pallack’s class. The station wagon.”

She raises her brows in challenge, and I inch my face closer to hers. “Callie Rae, you’re truly insufferable sometimes,” I say, shedding a playful grin. “Give me this.”

I snatch the binder from her lap. A light huff escapes her lips when I do, but I pay her attitude no mind.

“Here’s my trick,” I state. I use my pencil to circle the letter c in the phrase “completing the square.” “Now that I have it circled, I can remember to move the c-value outside the set of parentheses. It’s right in front of your face, so you can’t miss it. Problem solved.”

“Look at that!” Callie’s eyes gleam with a sudden sparkle. She laughs, and I snap a mental photo. It’s not often Callie’s green eyes light up, but when they do, I swear I feel like I can walk on water. Especially knowing I’m the source of that glow.

My fingers slide along his hair at the back of his head, caressing it. “Christmas Eve,” I offer.

The long, slender branches of the pine trees cut through the darkness. The Christmas lights reflect on the glass, illuminating the trees we’ve played under since we were eight years old.

I rotate my body away from his. My limbs are more confident in their motions as the heat continues to blare. I bend my knees up to plant the bottom of my boots on the seat, and Brant’s arm drapes across my chest.

“This is the best Christmas,” I say.

Brant rustles behind me for a few moments until he dangles a small piece of wood in front of me. “You’re spoiling the grand finale. Why would you do this?” he teases lowly.

The corner of my mouth elevates. The colorful array of lights casts a spotlight on the wooden ornament Brant’s suspending from his fingers. In the palm of his fingerless glove, there’s a pair of two turtle doves carved from light-colored wood.

They’re facing each other. Wings expanded to form a round border.

“Of all places, I found it at the grocery store. Can you believe it?”

His mouth lingers against my temple, his palm pressing into my lower back as he surely reminisces with me. The vibrant lights. The backseat. The ornament. The fingerless gloves. All the images orbit around us, and our fingers intertwine at our cradled hands.

“Your birthday,” he adds.

My legs break out in goosebumps when he drags the fabric over my thighs and calves. He tosses the garment to the carpet, and my hands instantly clutch the hem of my skirt.

I lift my butt to hike the garment over my hips, scrunching the denim at my waist. Until my bare sex is displayed before him.

His eyes flare with thirst, his hand greeting one of my raised knees. “My favorite girl to play with,” he husks, tenderly nudging my knee before kissing it. “Under pine trees. In a station wagon.” He mimics the same gestures with my other leg. “In every way,” he whispers.

He slides his hot palms under my bare butt, and I softly whimper when he squeezes my cheeks.

“Can I play with you here, Dove?” he rasps.

I gulp, nodding through a trembling breath. “Always.”

He was so frustrated with himself. When I tried to guide him, he wasn’t as appreciative as I thought he’d be. But surrendering to him was always as easy as the wind blowing.