Even with that slight awkwardness, this past week has been a slam dunk. Every day I come to work floating on a pink cloud of good sex and endorphins. I do my job and I do it well, and between Flint’s more relaxed vibe on camera and the festive air of a production nearing its completion date, the show’s running more smoothly than ever. After the director calls wrap, Flint loads me up in his truck and we get dinner, or shoot some pool, or just go back to his place to disrobe and unwind. It’s the final week of filming; we’ve got almost all the house footage we need, and now we’re adding some of the local color and town life. I can’t stop grinning. Nothing can go wrong.
Jessa comes over with fresh coffee. She’s piled her blond hair in a messy braid on top of her head. “I’m so thrilled to see you settled in your sexual energy,” she smiles. Then she fills my cup and leaves. Callie looks like she might throw up a little.
“Are you okay with this?” I ask her. Now I’m feeling a tiny bit nervous, and wrap my hands around the coffee mug for some extra warmth.
“Are you kidding?” Callie says. She shakes her head and picks up Lily out of her stroller when she starts to fuss. “That boy needed to start dating again. I’m just glad he started dating someone I like.” She grins at me, and I instantly relax. “Honestly, I’m really thrilled.” I can see how serious she is. “Flint’s been in a funk for a long time.”
Speak of the glorious, muscular, Old Spice-d devil. The door swings open, and Flint comes in. His hair’s still damp from the shower—shame I couldn’t join him—and he’s wearing a clean white button down shirt underneath his brown leather jacket. It’s a delicious combination.
I sigh, and stare into my coffee cup. I’d love to get up and leap into his arms while dramatic old time romance music crescendos, but we’ve been keeping it pretty quiet. Callie’s the first to be told, as she should have been. Jessa, too.
“So.” Callie quirks her eyebrow when Flint comes to our table. “You and Laurel, huh?”
Flint shrugs and raises an amused brow at me. “I assume Jessa knows too, now?”
“The McKays are officially informed.” I could stare at the gorgeous view of him all morning long. Much better to touch than to look, but we are in public.
Until he says, “Then you better come over here.”
What? In public? Right here in the diner? I should probably think about this, consider the problems with revealing our—oh, fuck it.
I give him my hand, and he pulls me out of the booth and into his arms. Then he kisses me in front of the whole place, melting me utterly. And holy shit. A public diner kiss! In a small town, that means you’re about as official as you can get. I break it off and look around. Everyone, from the waitresses to the regulars in trucker hats, are doing a great impression of not watching us, no, no interest whatsoever. But I can feel them sneaking glances whenever my back is turned.
“Well, brother,” Callie says, her voice falsely serious. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, what brings you to the land of the living?”
“Just grabbing some coffee to go. Call time’s in an hour,” he says, looking at me. “Want to hitch a ride?” he asks. The fact that we’ve got a full hour, and the low pitch of his voice, tells me we might have a little workout in the truck before we head to the set. And if it wouldn’t be rude to run out on Callie to go bang her sibling, I would happily take him up on the offer. But no dice.
“You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you,” I say, then hold up a hand as he gets a wild light in his eyes. “Don’t be cute about it.”
“God, I’m going to hurl,” Callie groans, waving Flint away. “Get out of my sight, little brother. Just remember, I know all your embarrassing junior high stories.”
“And I’ve got yours,” he tells Callie. He grabs his coffee, gives Jessa a quick hug, and heads out. Everyone in the diner turns to eyeball me, and I feel myself blushing.
“Okay. I’m sold on you,” Callie says to me, grinning. “Anyone who makes my brother that happy gets my unconditional blessing. So. What’s the next step?” She leans in, looking excited.
“Next step?” Inwardly, I sigh. I know where this is going. I’d just hoped Callie wouldn’t harp on it quite this soon.
“You know. Are you going to move here? Like, how serious do you think it is right now?” Callie’s tone is light, but the question is more serious than she knows. Before I can answer, she says, “Because I think Flint is really into this.”
“And I’m into him,” I answer automatically, which is true. “It’s just…well, it’s way too early to think about any of, you know, that stuff.” I made that promise to myself on our first date, that I wouldn’t worry about it until it was time. And despite the uneasiness in my gut at Callie’s words, I know it isn’t time yet. Not quite.
Callie nods. “Sure. It’s way too soon,” she says, and takes a sip of coffee.
“I mean, it is too soon. Isn’t it?” I ask her. She only shrugs and smiles; no help in the Callie corner.