“It’s not the mistake,” he told her, reaching for her hand. “It’s what you do once you realize you’ve screwed up. You got back on the horse. Or in this case, the mountain.”
She started to pull her hand away, then paused and looked at him. He sensed she was about to make a decision. He wanted her to choose him. After what felt like a lifetime, she relaxed and laced her fingers with his.
“I feel like a prize idiot.”
“That’s the best kind of idiot to be.”
They reached the sidewalk and he turned them toward town.
“The first time I met Marie, she was pulled off at the side of the road and changing a flat tire.” He paused, remembering the moment and smiling. “I take that back. Two guys had stopped to help or maybe try to pick her up. Either way, they were talking to her and she wasn’t looking too happy about it.”
“Competition,” Taryn murmured. “Let me guess. You ignored them and changed the tire while they attempted to charm her.”
“You got it,” he said, surprised she had guessed. Although he shouldn’t be. Taryn saw things others didn’t. “When I was done, Marie told the other two to get lost. She was only interested in a man who took care of things, not ones who just talked about it.”
He stopped, startled at the turn of conversation. He never talked about Marie and certainly wouldn’t with a woman. Yet here he was, spilling his emotional guts.
Way to get laid, he grumbled silently. Because talking about his late wife was sure to get Taryn hot.
But he’d already plunged into this particular ocean. He was going to have to swim for shore.
“She was tough,” he continued. “Confident, but with a soft side. You remind me a lot of her.”
She glanced at him. “Thank you. I know how you felt about her, so it’s a compliment.”
He nodded, pleased that she understood where he was coming from.
They reached the center of town. The parade was over but there were booths set up all over.
“This was my first festival,” he told her. “When I got here last year. Shocked the hell out of me.”
“I’ll bet. And now look at you. An FWM Grove Keeper.”
“Yeah, I still haven’t figured out how that happened.”
“You volunteered.”
Taryn smiled at a couple of people she knew and called out a greeting to a third. She felt ridiculously exposed, walking around with Angel, holding his hand. She wanted to pull away, to put distance between them. But she didn’t—mostly because in a weird, twisted way, it felt good to be just like everyone else. Even if it was only for an afternoon.
They stopped by a booth with a display of dried and silk flowers. “You could get a bouquet for your dining room table,” he told her.
She rolled her eyes. “Really?”
He grinned. “No. You’re not the flower type. You’re more edgy. Maybe just the stems in a statement on modern minimalism.”
“I’m surprised you know what minimalism is, modern or otherwise.”
He flashed her a smile. “I don’t. I was faking it.”
They walked by the park. Angel bought her some fudge that was delicious enough to be worth the extra time she would have to spend on the elliptical. They browsed the latest bestsellers in Morgan’s Books, then headed for Brew-haha.
But before they reached the coffee shop, Angel pulled her across the street toward the park. He circled around kids playing and families sitting on blankets in the late-afternoon sun.
She thought about asking where they were going but decided she didn’t care. Not really. Something had happened to her today. She supposed it was the fact that she’d pretty much been at her worst and he hadn’t blinked. She wasn’t ready to say she would trust him with her life, but she knew things had shifted between them. He knew it, too. Telling her more about Marie proved that.
She wasn’t completely surprised when he pulled her to a stop by a large tree that offered privacy from everyone around them. She stepped into his embrace easily, wanting to feel his arms around her. Wanting his mouth on hers and his body providing warmth and support.
He didn’t disappoint. The second they were sheltered from staring eyes, he pressed his lips to hers. But this wasn’t like the previous kiss. There was no gentleness, no polite introduction. He kissed hard and hot, claiming her with his mouth. She parted and he swept his tongue inside. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, wanting to feel his hard body against hers.
He was all muscle—nothing about him yielded. She accepted that just as she accepted the deep, passionate strokes as he kissed her. She accepted and then moved in tandem, needing him to feel what she felt.
Wanting began in her belly and spiraled out in all directions. It heated and melted and made her want to climb inside him. What would he be like in bed? She was tired of polite men who asked too many questions. She didn’t want to have to say what she would like this time or rate how good something felt. She wasn’t looking to be dominated; she just wanted to be...taken.