more than a soft exhalation now.
He buried his right hand in her hair and lowered his mouth to hers, barely brushing her lips with his. She sighed and tried to deepen the kiss, but he held back. He teased her, flicking his tongue over her bottom lip while he slid his free hand across her hip.
Not until she whimpered for more and pressed her body against his did he give her what she wanted. As the kiss deepened, his fingers slid under the hem of her T-shirt, touching bare skin. He groaned as her tongue danced over his and pulled his hand out from under the shirt before he started trying to round the bases. It wasn’t time for that yet. If ever. He was really hoping for yet.
He kissed her until she felt boneless in his arms and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to hold her up—until their mingled breaths came shallow and fast. One final flick of his tongue across her lips and then he broke it off.
He moved back a step because his body had had about all the contact with Anna’s body it could take without exploding, and he smiled at the dreamy expression on her flushed face as she opened her eyes.
“ Now I’ve kissed you,” he said, his voice rough with anticipation of something that wasn’t coming next.
“Yes.” She smiled and he thought it was even prettier when she’d just been thoroughly kissed. “Now you can stop avoiding me.”
“Now I can mow the lawns,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose. “And you can get back to painting—safely this time—before your brush dries out.”
With a dramatic sigh, she retrieved the brush and the paint bucket and started up the step ladder he’d placed for her. “Painting’s not as fun as kissing.”
“Better for the wood.” When she snorted, he rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant. So…later, you want to sit out on the dock with me and listen to the Red Sox game on the radio like we did when we were kids?”
“I thought you had cable.”
“I do, but there’s nothing more pure than listening to the game on the radio.”
“Sure. I’ll want to shower first and make sure I’m not covered in paint, but it sounds like fun.”
A few hours later, Cam set his favorite webbed chair in place, followed by a small cooler and his radio. He usually parked himself in the center, but he set up mostly on his side so Anna would have room for her own chair.
Not quite ten minutes later, he heard the slider open and close and he knew she was on her way down.
When he heard her footsteps on the dock, he turned, intending to ask her if she remembered the bug spray, but that question died in favor of a far more pressing one. “What the hell is that you’re wearing?”
She looked down at her shirt with a confused expression. As if she didn’t know. “My shirt? It’s pretty old, so I usually only wear it for sleeping now, but my stepdad bought it for me years ago.”
“It’s a Yankees T-shirt.” He could barely get the words out.
“That’s because we’re Yankees fans.” She snapped open her chair and set it next to his as if that was still okay. “We never watched sports when I was little—the games I listened to with you was about it—but then Mom married Kent and we moved to Connecticut. He loved baseball and he taught me to love it, too.”
“You’re a Yankees fan.”
“Yup.”
“I kissed a Yankees fan.”
“Yup. Really well, too.”
It was too late for mouthwash, so he did the next best thing and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Get off my dock.”
She paused in the act of arranging her cooler and snacks to glare at him. “It’s our dock.”
“Fine. You stay on your half. Move your chair over.”
He didn’t even make it to the first inning. The radio announcer was going through the line-up and, when he got to Jeter and Anna made a little woo-hoo sound, Cam got out of the chair and walked away.
“Damn Yankees fan.”
Her laughter followed him all the way to the house.
* * *
Anna couldn’t believe Cam wasn’t
He buried his right hand in her hair and lowered his mouth to hers, barely brushing her lips with his. She sighed and tried to deepen the kiss, but he held back. He teased her, flicking his tongue over her bottom lip while he slid his free hand across her hip.
Not until she whimpered for more and pressed her body against his did he give her what she wanted. As the kiss deepened, his fingers slid under the hem of her T-shirt, touching bare skin. He groaned as her tongue danced over his and pulled his hand out from under the shirt before he started trying to round the bases. It wasn’t time for that yet. If ever. He was really hoping for yet.
He kissed her until she felt boneless in his arms and he wasn’t sure he had the strength to hold her up—until their mingled breaths came shallow and fast. One final flick of his tongue across her lips and then he broke it off.
He moved back a step because his body had had about all the contact with Anna’s body it could take without exploding, and he smiled at the dreamy expression on her flushed face as she opened her eyes.
“ Now I’ve kissed you,” he said, his voice rough with anticipation of something that wasn’t coming next.
“Yes.” She smiled and he thought it was even prettier when she’d just been thoroughly kissed. “Now you can stop avoiding me.”
“Now I can mow the lawns,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose. “And you can get back to painting—safely this time—before your brush dries out.”
With a dramatic sigh, she retrieved the brush and the paint bucket and started up the step ladder he’d placed for her. “Painting’s not as fun as kissing.”
“Better for the wood.” When she snorted, he rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant. So…later, you want to sit out on the dock with me and listen to the Red Sox game on the radio like we did when we were kids?”
“I thought you had cable.”
“I do, but there’s nothing more pure than listening to the game on the radio.”
“Sure. I’ll want to shower first and make sure I’m not covered in paint, but it sounds like fun.”
A few hours later, Cam set his favorite webbed chair in place, followed by a small cooler and his radio. He usually parked himself in the center, but he set up mostly on his side so Anna would have room for her own chair.
Not quite ten minutes later, he heard the slider open and close and he knew she was on her way down.
When he heard her footsteps on the dock, he turned, intending to ask her if she remembered the bug spray, but that question died in favor of a far more pressing one. “What the hell is that you’re wearing?”
She looked down at her shirt with a confused expression. As if she didn’t know. “My shirt? It’s pretty old, so I usually only wear it for sleeping now, but my stepdad bought it for me years ago.”
“It’s a Yankees T-shirt.” He could barely get the words out.
“That’s because we’re Yankees fans.” She snapped open her chair and set it next to his as if that was still okay. “We never watched sports when I was little—the games I listened to with you was about it—but then Mom married Kent and we moved to Connecticut. He loved baseball and he taught me to love it, too.”
“You’re a Yankees fan.”
“Yup.”
“I kissed a Yankees fan.”
“Yup. Really well, too.”
It was too late for mouthwash, so he did the next best thing and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Get off my dock.”
She paused in the act of arranging her cooler and snacks to glare at him. “It’s our dock.”
“Fine. You stay on your half. Move your chair over.”
He didn’t even make it to the first inning. The radio announcer was going through the line-up and, when he got to Jeter and Anna made a little woo-hoo sound, Cam got out of the chair and walked away.
“Damn Yankees fan.”
Her laughter followed him all the way to the house.
* * *
Anna couldn’t believe Cam wasn’t
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