Page 17 of Finders Keepers


  “Try no practice.” I knew I should probably roll off of Josie and go ice my nuts, but the way she was threading my hair through her fingers as she studied me with that playful look in her eyes made it difficult. Actually, it made it impossible.

  “You want to get some?” Josie asked. My immediate response was a wide grin to which she gave a sigh. “Practice. You want to get some practice.”

  “And this practice entails . . .?” I didn’t really give a damn as long as she stayed right where she was and kept running her fingers through my hair.

  “Touching. Kissing.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Fully clothed.”

  I exaggerated a grumble, but I was anything but disappointed. I’d wanted to touch and kiss Josie Gibson for so long, I didn’t care if she told me I had to do it wearing Saran Wrap. The one time I had touched her intimately, I hadn’t fully enjoyed it. She might have been drunk, but I wasn’t. I knew what I was doing, and I knew the girl I was touching wasn’t mine. The girl I wanted to love loved someone else. My best friend.

  “I would love to kiss”—I dropped my mouth to her neck and skimmed my lips down it until her skin erupted in goose bumps—“and I would love to touch”—my hand combed into her hair, my fingers trailing through it and giving it a light tug that made her gasp—“you as long and as much as you’ll let me.” Moving my face over hers, I felt the skin between my brows crease. “But you’re right. I don’t have a lot of experience knowing when to quit. Or how to quit. These past couple of weeks, I’ve taken things slow because I kept my hands and mouth to myself, but now . . . Now that I’m touching and kissing you, it won’t be as easy to take things slow. I’ll need you to tell me when to stop. And you have my permission to knee me in the balls if I don’t. I want to make this work, but I need your help.” Saying all that when my breathing was already erratic should have earned me some sort of award.

  “You’ve got my help,” she said. “Now would you stop worrying so much and kiss me already? I’ve been waiting weeks for you to finally cross that line, and now that you have, I’d like to get back to it please.”

  Letting one hand slip under my bulky jacket, I formed it around her waist. “You know I can’t resist you when you say please.”

  She winked. “I know.” Tossing the covers over our heads, Josie’s mouth reconnected with mine at the same time her hand returned to my stomach. Her fingers traced patterns into my skin as her mouth played with mine, sucking and nipping and smoothing and all of the things I didn’t know could make a person’s toes curl. Before, a kiss had been nothing more than a prelude, a stepping stone, a necessary evil. A means to an end. I’d never paid attention to a kiss because it had never been anything more than a segue to sex.

  But that kiss, with that girl . . . that was something else entirely. If a person could only choose one memory to take with them into their next life, that would be the one I’d take. That would be the one I’d carry through all of my lifetimes. I didn’t need to have lived them all to realize that memory I was making with Josie was the thing men sold eternities for. It was the thing I’d sell mine for.

  I managed to keep my hands on her waist and in the bend of her neck, and as each second passed, it became easier and easier to keep them from straying into newfound “danger” zones. A few weeks ago, those areas had been my primary targets. Now they were danger zones. Irony was really making me its bitch.

  When Josie’s fingers trailed along my belt line, skimming just below the surface, I let out something between a sigh and a groan before returning the favor. She might have been in a dress, but fingers skimming the area just south of the navel packs a powerful punch even through clothing. When she moaned around the kiss we were tangled up in, I came close to hiking up her dress, lowering my fly, and making her moan again and louder. Then, like she knew the internal war I was fighting, Josie’s mouth slowed and her hand moved away from the sensitive skin. She knew what she was doing. She knew how to “make out” and when and how to tap the brakes. That was a relief since everything inside of me was dying to punch the gas. A minute ago, I’d been in control. Thirty seconds and one moan from Josie later, I was utterly out of control. Right then, I was back to having a grip. I was returning her slow, soft kiss when something thumped the outside of my truck, jolting us.

  “Hey, Black, why’d you pay to come to a drive-in if all you were going to do was fuck your date?”

  Josie froze as my eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth, Mason,” I ordered, peeking my head out from beneath the blankets just enough so he could see my murderous expression without catching a glimpse of Josie. I didn’t mind Colt finding out about Josie and me, but I wasn’t sure if she was ready yet. Even if she was, that probably wasn’t the best time.

  “What? It’s not like fuck isn’t your second language and we all know that whoever that girl is beneath you is a far cry from a lady, so don’t tell me to watch my mouth again, asshole.”

  I was ready to jump out of the back of my truck to see if Mason had such a loud mouth when I stood toe-to-toe with him, but Josie grabbed my belt buckle and tugged me back down.

  “Hey, sweetheart, you do realize you’re with Garth Black, right? The guy who wouldn’t know commitment if it crawled up his ass and took residence.”

  Josie gave my belt buckle another tug, and I could almost hear her thoughts—they were that strong. Why would you want to go out there with him when you can be in here with me? Exactly. No reason I’d rather go flick Colt’s hat off his head when Josie’s body was beneath mine and keeping it warm. “At least that’s not what’s shoved up my ass most nights of the week.”

  Colt raised his middle finger at me as he tapped my truck again. “Way to go all out and get your truck washed for your date tonight. This thing used to be black, right?”

  If Colt thought he could teach me a thing or two about trucks, he must have forgotten which state was listed on his birth certificate. “I’ll get around to washing my truck, Mason. When it rains.” Josie was still covered and quiet, but when Colt took a few steps closer, I shifted. In addition to the blankets, I was blocking her from his view. “It’s a truck, god dammit. You don’t have to wash it and wax it and tweak its headlights to get it to perform.”

  “Whatever you say, Black. Whatever you say.” Colt shook his head and walked toward the concessions. “Enjoy your night.”

  I watched him until he was out of sight before twisting around and sliding the blankets back. “I really hate that guy.”

  Josie wore an amused expression. “You don’t say.”

  “Why in the hell did he have to be here tonight? My night was about perfect until he showed up with that overly white smile and tanned face.”

  “I didn’t know he was coming, but he said a couple of his brothers would be in town for the weekend. Given the limited choices for entertainment, I suppose it’s not a huge surprise we’d all end up in the same place.” Josie hadn’t let go of my belt buckle, but instead of tugging on it forcefully, she was tugging on it playfully. “Do you want to talk about Colt the rest of the night or would you like to get back to what we were doing?”

  Damn, there was a special place in heaven for a girl who could tell you what she wanted without a hint of shame. “Colt who?” My hands found places on her as I shifted back on top.

  Then she shoved my chest away and pivoted on top of me. Josie’s eyes gleamed before she lowered her mouth to mine. “My turn.”

  IF A MAN could die from making-out exhaustion, I figured I was close. I didn’t know some of the things Josie had taught me could be done with a mouth. I also didn’t realize that having a woman basically hold me captive and have her way with me could be so freeing. With the addition of a bit of boob fondling and a whole bit more of Josie rocking her hips into mine, we’d had a successful, insanely-sexy-without-actual-sex make-out session. Josie was showing me all sorts of things I could do that I never would have thought possible.

  The second movie had already been playing for a while when I simply had
to come up for air. Or hydration. Or sustenance. Something. “Are you warm now?” I cupped her face with both hands. She certainly felt warmer. Actually, she almost looked flushed.

  Her lips moved to the corner of my mouth. “I’m definitely something now.” Her lips moved to the other corner. “But I wouldn’t say warmer is the first thing on my mind.” To prove her point, her hips slid down mine again.

  I wasn’t sure who, but one of us was close to giving in. An intermission was in order. Plus, the clothed grinding was nice and all, but my dick had to be close to being rubbed raw. I needed a few minutes to calm my shit down, rehydrate, and tend to my wounds. “Come on. Break time.” I checked to make sure Colt wasn’t in sight then grabbed Josie’s hands and pulled her up.

  “I thought we had one of those when you took a breath ten minutes ago.” She grinned at me as she finger-combed her hair and straightened her dress.

  After zipping my coat back up on her, I redid all of the buttons she’d managed to get undone on my shirt and tucked it back into my jeans before leaping over the side. “You’re right. I’m weak. You are the making out champion.” Josie grabbed my hands to steady herself before jumping out of the bed. “But whatever you just did to me in there, I flew past warm straight into hot. I need one of those slushie things to cool down, and I need the sugar before I go into hypoglycemic shock.” Making out with Josie burned a hell of a lot of calories.

  “You’d better get two so you’ll have reserves.” Josie grabbed my hand as we headed for the concessions. Everyone else had gotten their drinks and snacks during the real intermission, so it was mostly quiet inside. That was part of my plan. I still didn’t know how Josie felt—well, after that make-out session, I knew how she felt—but I wasn’t sure if she was ready for us to be a public item yet. As much as I wanted the whole damn town to know we were together, I also knew we would give the rumor mill enough fodder to keep its channels busy into next year. The hometown sweetheart hooks up with the trailer-trash bad boy. I didn’t want Josie at the center of a bunch of malicious gossip, and the only way to protect her from that was to keep us a secret.

  I opened the glass door to the concessions and let her pass through before following. “So? Since you seem to be the making out pro, how would you rate my skills? On a scale of okay to mad.” I wrapped both arms around her as we wound through the concession gates.

  She tapped her chin and glanced back at me. “Let’s see. Your lips are swollen. My lips are swollen. My hair’s a mess”—she lifted my hat for a moment—“and your hair’s a huge mess.”

  “It’s always a mess. Why do you think I rarely take that thing off?” I mumbled as we continued weaving up to the cashier.

  Josie laughed then unexpectedly arched her back so her backside curved into my . . . “We stopped making out five minutes ago, and you’re still . . . excited. And either I wet myself, or you made me just as excited.”

  My mouth dropped open. Josie slid her fingers beneath my chin, pushed it closed, then planted a kiss full on my lips. The pubescent male cashier looked like he was about to bust something. That made two of us.

  “Damn, Josie. Saying stuff like that is not helping cool me down.”

  Since we’d finally made it up to the gaping cashier, Josie lifted onto her tiptoes and moved her mouth to my ear. “I don’t want you cooled down. I want you back in that truck and on top of me.”

  A shudder ran down my back. Leaning into the counter, I locked eyes with the cashier—whose eyes were locked on Josie. “Do you sell slushies by the gallon?”

  The cashier fumbled with a few cups. “This is the biggest size we’ve got.”

  “Perfect. I’ll take two.” One to drink and one to ice my balls with. Josie giggled and went to grab a couple of licorice ropes. “What are you so happy about?”

  She was beaming. Her face was practically glowing, and I wasn’t sure if she was walking or floating. “You. Tonight.” She motioned between us. “This. Everything. There’s a lot to be happy about right now.”

  Josie. My Josie. For the first time, I felt like she actually wanted to be mine and, contrary to popular belief, I hadn’t done anything to royally screw it up. I grinned back. “There’s a hell of a lot to be happy about right now.”

  The cashier cleared his throat. “That will be twelve-fifty.”

  “Did you get the licorice ropes?” I asked the cashier. He nodded. “I didn’t think you liked licorice, Joze.”

  “I don’t,” she replied, winding one around my wrist. “They’re not for eating.”

  Holy shit. As if my dick needed to get any harder. The cashier was back to gaping at Josie like he was close to throwing himself at her feet and worshipping her. Get in line, jackass. The sooner I got the Josie-worshipper paid, the sooner I could figure out what Josie had in mind for us and those licorice ropes. Pulling out my wallet, I opened it and found. . . nothing. “Shit.” I double-checked all of my pockets to make sure I hadn’t misplaced the cash I’d gotten earlier.

  “Double shit,” Josie said. “I left my purse in your truck.”

  “I wouldn’t let you pay anyways. Besides, I had money earlier . . . I just must have misplaced it.” I triple-checked my wallet. The cashier shifted and gave me an impatient look when the concessions door opened and someone else filed into line. Too bad. They’d have to wait because I needed my slushies and licorice ropes.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I’m good,” Josie said, setting her hand on my forearm.

  “No, it’s not okay.” I almost threw my wallet on the ground when it came up empty a third time. Where the hell had the cash gone?

  “I got it.” A fifty-dollar bill slapped down on the counter as Josie froze and my jaw set.

  “I don’t think so.” Picking up the fifty, I held it in front of Colt’s face and dropped it at his boots.

  “Hey, no need to be ungrateful and throw money around. This is a fifty-dollar bill.” Colt picked it up and spread it out in front of my face. “I know the last time you saw one of these was when your mama was still home and turning tricks to put beans and bread on the table.”

  I shoved his hand and the money out of my face.

  “Colt!” Josie hissed, shouldering up beside me. I was keeping it in, holding myself back, but just barely.

  “Josie, what the hell are you doing here with this piece of trailer trash?” Colt crossed his arms and looked from me to her. “Oh, wait. I forgot his trailer went up in flames. Let me rephrase. Josie, what the hell are you doing here with this piece of trash?”

  “Colt, so help me God . . .” Josie turned on her glare and aimed it his way.

  “Just answer the question, and I’ll leave you two alone.” Colt took a couple of steps back as Josie glared at him.

  “Answer the question? How’s this for answering the question?” Stepping shoulder to shoulder with me, her hand slid inside of mine.

  Colt studied our entwined hands, his face shadowing. “I thought we had a good thing going.”

  “It wasn’t a bad thing”—her voice was cool and removed—“but we weren’t going anywhere.”

  Colt shook his head and made his way back toward the door. “And you think that wherever Garth Black’s going to take you will be so much better and farther?”

  “No, I don’t think that. I know that.” Josie flashed him a big smile.

  He paused with his hand on the door. “It’s too bad you’re going to end up another knocked-up piece of trailer trash. I thought you’d be different than the rest of these small-town girls.”

  Josie didn’t flinch, but I sure as hell did. Leaping over every rail Josie and I’d just wove through, I didn’t stop until I was a foot from Colt’s face. The guy had the sense to look fearful for his life. “You’d better shut that big mouth of yours, turn around, and leave now, because I am holding on by a thread, Mason.” I was trembling, but I didn’t touch him. “A fucking thread.”

  Colt shoved the door open then glanced back at Josie. “When you’re done with this guy, you kno
w my number.”

  Josie made her way to me as the door slammed in my face. I glared at Colt’s back until he jumped into the bed of his fancy truck where a few other guys were camped out.

  “Garth?” Josie stepped in front of me with a concerned expression. “How are you doing?”

  I exhaled a heavy breath and forced my fists to unclench. “I’ve been holding back so much tonight, I’m about to snap. That’s how I’m doing.”

  “Yeah, you look pretty close to snapping, too. Let’s get you out of here.” She pushed open the door, waved a quick sorry at the cashier, and we walked toward my truck. Josie slipped her hand in mine, and a portion of the rage boiling just below the surface vanished. “Better?”

  “Better,” I replied, watching Colt’s truck as we passed it. He was with his brothers. From the way his hands were moving and his pissed off expression, he was informing them of what had just happened. When a couple of his brothers leapt up, looking outraged, I pulled Josie a little faster. I knew what hot-headed guys like the Mason brothers would do because I was hot-headeder than them all. They were going to come kick my ass for “stealing” their brother’s girl.

  That was fine. Whatever, they could kick my ass into the next millennium. Big whoop. What I cared about was not Josie getting mixed up in the middle of it. They wanted to teach me a lesson? Fine—they could do that when Josie wasn’t anywhere around. I’d take a hell of a lot more than a serious beating to get to be the one Josie crawled into bed with at night.

  I opened the passenger’s side door for her and closed it behind her. “Are you okay if we head out now?”

  “Since a certain someone kind of put a damper on it, yeah, let’s go.”

  I crawled in beside her. From the rearview mirror, I saw Colt and his brothers motioning at my truck. If Josie wasn’t with me, I would have thrown open my door, marched toward them with my arms out, and shouted some sort of challenge and profanity at them. But Josie was with me, and that made all the difference. I fired up the engine and shifted into drive.