His large hand splayed at the back of my head, pulling me closer, deeper. A groan rumbled in his chest as his tongue swept over mine. I weaved my fingers through the strands of his hair, gripping onto the short ends, ready to hurdle over the console and into his lap.
“Han,” he mumbled through our pressed lips slowly pulling away, giving me a few small pecks before pulling away completely. His forehead dropped to mine, both of our breathing labored. “I think we should take things a little slower this time around.”
I nodded against his head, knowing he was right but wanting to do anything but go slow because nothing had changed. Time was a privilege. One we didn’t have. Our time together was still limited, the same way it had been before.
He sat back, his eyes and smile still on me. “You ready for your surprise?”
I scanned the dark field of nothingness surrounding us. “Umm…you didn’t bring me all the way out here to leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere at night, did you?”
“You seriously think I’d do that?”
“I did throw up on you.”
“True. When you put it that way…”
I swatted at his arm with a playful scoff. He laughed, pulling on the handle to open the door. He jogged around to the passenger side, helping me out before opening the back door of his truck, grabbing the items he’d picked up earlier.
My eyes adjusted to the stars and the moonlight, the black shadows becoming more recognizable shapes in shades of charcoal and dark blue. The largest one loomed high in the distance.
“What’s that?” I pointed in its direction.
“That is why we’re out here,” he said, stepping up beside me with his hands full. I looked up at him and he grinned, nudging my shoulder. “Come on, blondie, let’s go.”
I frowned as he strode forward a few steps before stopping, shifting everything to his right hand and reaching out for me. “You coming?”
“Blondie? That better not be an insult.”
His white teeth glowed in the moonlight. “Not even close. I kind of love that blond hair of yours.”
I pursed my lips with my repressed smile, taking the few steps to his outstretched hand, lacing my fingers with his. “Interesting.”
“What?”
“I’d been trying to figure out what you preferred in a woman—curvy or thin, small or big boobs, blond, brunette, or red…”
Giving me a sideways glance, his mouth twitched with a knowing smile. “Did Lottie or Leighton tell you?”
“Leighton.”
“Of course, she did,” he grumbled, his eyes rolling with annoyance. “Does that bother you?”
“No…I know nothing ever happened between the two of you. We’re good as long as you don’t still have feelings for her, because that would be weird, and this would be over.”
He smirked. “And what is this?”
I shrugged, a smile sneaking through.
“Well, whatever this is, I guess it’s not ending, because I don’t see her as anything more than a friend.”
“You didn’t answer my original question.”
“Technically, you didn’t ask one.”
“Okay—” I came to an abrupt stop, our hands breaking apart as he continued forward. “What’s your type?”
Stopping a few feet in front of me, he looked back over his shoulder, a frown etched across his handsome face. He retraced his steps to where I stood. His finger and thumb gripped my chin as he raised it higher. “My type is a strong, independent woman, who knows what she wants, stands up for what she believes, and doesn’t let anyone bring her down. I like confidence, a woman comfortable in her own skin. Maybe even one with a smart mouth and a little bit of sass. Because the truth is every woman is sexy. Every one of them has something about them that makes a man tick. My type isn’t based on physical features. Sure, sometimes I hook up with a girl based on that, but that doesn’t mean she’s my type, or someone I see myself with in the long run. My type, Hannah, is you.”
I gulped. “Oh,” I breathed over the lump still stuck in my throat.
Dipping his head down, his lips touched mine, leaving me a little more stunned, a little more speechless.
Angling his head to the side with a playful grin, he waited for me to follow him. Willing myself to move and not stand there like an idiot, I slid my hand through his arm, staying close to him the last few yards to our destination.
Coming to a stop beside him, I stared up at the tall, old water tower. A narrow ladder climbed up one side of the rusting frame and tank. Confused, I looked toward Billy with a questioning eyebrow.
He chuckled. “This”—he signaled with a nod of his head—“is old man Johnson’s water tower. The first one ever constructed in Billingsley.”
“Oookay…”
“We’re going to tag it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Come on. I’ll help you up the ladder.”
When I didn’t move to follow him, he stopped, turning back to look at me.
“Is this even legal?”
He shrugged. “Nothing to worry about unless we get caught.”
“Not helping.”
He chuckled. “It’s fine. Tagging this tower is like a rite of passage here in Billingsley.”
Placing the items he’d been carrying on the ground at the foot of the ladder, he stretched out his hand to me, urging me forward.
I stood there, nervous, yet a small thrill skirted up my back, prickling my skin. I looked down at the dress I was wearing, the heels on my feet, neither exactly meant for scaling a water tower.
“Come on, Hannah, don’t go city on me now.”
Jutting out my chin, I slipped off my heels, tossing them to the ground. Ignoring his hand, I marched past him. I planted my hands on the highest rung I could reach while lifting a bare foot to the bottom one, mentally trying to recall the last time I had a tetanus shot.
I felt the heat of Billy’s body at my back, his head hovering at my shoulder, the butterflies taking flight in my stomach as he whispered in my ear, “My type of girl.”
I took the first few steps on shaky legs, desire igniting and combusting every cell in my body. Feeling his large hands grip the backs of my bare thighs for support, skimming just below the hem of my skirt, didn’t help matters. I prayed I’d make it through this without free falling to the ground. Unfortunately, it was too late for my heart, it was already plummeting.
With our legs dangling off the side of the narrow catwalk that circled the tank, a pile of chocolate wrappers littered between us, I nearly squirted the merlot from my nose—another one of my favorites Billy had picked up for me at the store. Billy chuckled silently beside me, taking a sip of his beer as I covered my mouth with the back of my hand to hold in the wine.
“You did not tell her that. No wonder she was glaring at me at the ball park.”
He shrugged. “I figured I owed her the truth. Sparing her feelings wasn’t working.”
“The truth, huh? I’m really the only woman you ever thought about taking home to meet your family?”
“Yep. Doesn’t matter as much now, since you already know Leighton and Aaron and met my parents at the wedding.”