“Ha-ha,” he retorted. “Only a few years.”
“I’ve only been out of high school thirteen years, so speak for yourself.”
“I’m at seventeen, so not a geezer quite yet.”
“But getting closer every day.”
Laughing, he said, “You’re full of beans today, Ella. I like you that way.”
“Got to keep you on your toes.”
“That you do.” He held the passenger door to his truck for her and then leaned in to kiss her as he belted her in. “Kissing you is becoming my favorite thing to do.”
Ella ran her hand over the delicious stubble on his jaw. “Mine, too.”
He kissed her again. “To be continued. Later.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Mmm,” he said, his lips vibrating against hers, “me either.” He pulled away reluctantly, or so it seemed to her.
She watched him walk around the front of the truck and get into the driver’s side. It was such a strange feeling to be free to look at him any way she wanted, to let him see the full extent of her desire for him, to not have to hide it anymore the way she had for so long.
He backed out of her driveway and headed in the direction of her parents’ home. His hand found hers on the seat, and the brush of his skin against hers was all it took to set off a reaction that registered in all her most important places.
Good God . . . She had to get it together before she forgot her plans to be cautious, to take this slowly, to protect her heart. If all he had to do to make her forget about being careful was hold her hand, she was in bigger trouble than she’d thought.
After a quiet ride through Butler, they pulled into her parents’ driveway and their yellow labs, George and Ringo, came bounding across the yard to greet them. Ella got out of the truck and bent to give each dog some love. She couldn’t wait to have a home of her own someday so she could have dogs again. They’d always had dogs—all of them named John, Paul, George or Ringo—and Ella missed having pets, but that was the one thing her landlord didn’t allow.
“Where’s Mom and Dad?” she asked the dogs.
George barked and darted toward the house. The dogs rarely left her father’s side, so she took George’s word for it and followed her inside. Yes, George was a girl. It didn’t matter to Ella’s dad whether the dogs were male or female. They were all named after his favorite band of all time. He was a little over the top when it came to the Beatles, but his children indulged his obsession after being weaned on Beatles tunes growing up.
In the mudroom, Ella hung her coat and Gavin’s on the hook with her name on it. Will’s hook was to the left of hers and Charley’s to the right. The symbolic act of hanging Gavin’s coat on top of hers made Ella’s belly quiver with excitement and joy before she remembered that she was trying not to get ahead of herself. Whatever. What was that old saying about once the genie gets outside the bottle there’s no putting her back in? That about summed up her situation with Gavin. The genie was so far out of the bottle she’d never get back in at this rate.
Smiling, she glanced at Gavin and reached for his hand to lead him into the kitchen, where her mom was standing watch over something on the stove, and her dad was standing watch over her mom, hands on her hips, head tilted forward, saying something in her ear that was making Molly giggle madly.
I want that, Ella thought. To be married nearly forty years and still be giggling with the man I love. She cleared her throat. Loudly.
Lincoln Abbott turned, his face lighting up with pleasure at the sight of her and then zeroing right in on the fact that she was holding hands with Gavin Guthrie. “Hey, El, Gavin. Look, Molly, Ella’s brought Gavin.”
Molly turned down the heat under the pot on the stove and turned to hug and kiss both of them. “This is a nice surprise, Gavin.”
“Hope you don’t mind me crashing Sunday dinner.”
“Of course not. You’re always welcome here. You know that.”