Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Tate

I’d brought Tennessee up a mountain or, more accurately, a very large hill merely for the chance for the perfect first kiss. And sitting side-by-side on the bench with the city of Mount Hope below us, the moment wasn’t going to get any better than this.

I moved in slowly, putting the brakes on my usual pedal-to-the-metal approach to life. Not only was Tennessee skittish, similar to my dog and her timid disdain for change, but he also deserved a gentle wooing, not a steamroller. I needed him to want this as much as I did. I could be happy with the privilege of being his best friend again, but now that I’d met his grownup self, I wanted so much more.

I wanted everything.

But I could be patient.

So, I waited, mouth millimeters from his. So far, so good. He didn’t pull away. And then he did something even better: he smiled.

A happy, shy little grin before a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Don’t be nervous,” I whispered.

“I’m not.” He was lying, but under the nerves, the adorable eagerness in his eyes was all the encouragement I needed.

“Good.” And then I kissed him. A soft brush of lips. His fuzzy beard was an unexpected delight, one of a dozen new things I loved about adult Tennessee. I couldn’t wait to add even more things to the list.

Tennessee’s laugh turned to a gasp, then a small moan as he leaned in to meet me partway. “Yes.”

I traced his lips with the tip of my tongue before deepening the kiss. He tasted like Valentine’s Day—a mix of mint, chocolate, snow, and earthiness. Sweetness and lust mingling. I’d had other first kisses, but I couldn’t recall a single detail right then. Rather, I wanted a snapshot of this exact moment for the rest of my life.

The certainty I’d felt ever since Saturday intensified with every movement. My chest ached from holding back the rising swell of my emotions. But somehow, I simply knew.

This was my last first kiss.

I was determined to take my time. He made a delighted noise as I explored and tasted, making it harder to go slow, but if this was the first kiss of the rest of my life, I could damn well make it last.

And last it did, Tennessee clinging to me with his left hand as I gathered him even closer. We kissed as the night sky darkened, more stars arriving to observe the shift in my universe. We kissed as we both shivered and laughed and kissed and shivered some more.

“I don’t wanna move, but I don’t want to turn into a snow cone either.” I gave a frustrated moan, reluctantly letting my good sense return. “Want to warm up in the truck?”

I stood before I could give into the temptation of more chilly kisses and offered him a hand.

“Is that what the kids of Mount Hope are calling it these days?” Chuckling, Tennessee let me tug him off the bench.

“Follow me, and I’ll show you.” Flipping on my flashlight’s high beam, I carefully led us down the rocky stairs. Our competing injuries made it nearly impossible to hold hands, but I kept close and paused at the base of the stairs to steal one more kiss. He greeted me like I’d been away weeks rather than three minutes, and his eagerness was a better aphrodisiac than anything ever dreamed up for Valentine’s Day.

“Did you bring me up here to make out?” He laughed, but there was an underlying seriousness. Tennessee had a big, vulnerable heart, and he needed to trust that I wouldn’t hurt it.

“No. Well, yes. The kiss was planned, but I brought you up here to formally apply for the position of boyfriend you have open.” Keeping my voice all professional, I met his gaze before smiling hopefully.

“Soulmate.” His tone was somewhere between confused and censoring. “The CUPID algorithm was supposed to find me a soulmate.”

“Oh.” All the air left my chest at once. Tennessee didn’t want to date me. He wanted to hold out for his supposed soulmate. “I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.” He awkwardly reached for my left hand with his. “The algorithm may have glitched, but somehow I keep thinking… maybe. Like this could be it? For both of us?” He gulped loudly. “Sorry. It’s way too soon and?—”

I cut him off with a swift kiss before he could ramble himself into more doubt. “Not too soon at all. I feel the same way. Like this was somehow destined. Like I’ve been waiting for your return.”

“ Yes. ” Smiling broadly, he was the one to initiate the next kiss, which lingered, going from sweet affirmation to sexy promise. I would have happily kept going until our flashlight batteries ran out right there at the base of the trail, but Tennessee shivered.

“Some boyfriend I am if I let you freeze before dinner.” Chuckling, I pointed at my truck, flicking my key fob for remote start. “Into the truck with you.”

“There’s dinner?” he asked as he climbed into the passenger side.

“It’s Valentine’s Day. Of course there’s dinner.” I gave him a pointed look. I might not have that much personal experience with long-term relationships, but I’d watched my parents and other happy couples over the years. I wanted to make Tennessee feel valued and treasured, not only on holidays. “But you have to guess where I made reservations for us.”

“Reservations?” Tennessee’s expression turned befuddled. Understandable. Mount Hope was small enough that few places even took reservations. “Tell me you didn’t make your mother cook on Valentine’s Day.”

That earned a huge belly laugh from both of us as I cranked the truck’s heater. Tennessee had always loved her cooking and had proclaimed hers the best food in Mount Hope more than a few times.

“I thought about it,” I admitted. Tennessee’s love of her fried rice dishes and barbecue chicken was almost enough to have had me making the call. “My dad’s taking her out for Japanese steak, but she would have happily cooked for us. She’s going to be delighted we’re dating.”

I was more or less assuming that Tennessee’s lack of argument and repeated kisses meant he was on board with my plans, but I was still relieved when he nodded. “You think so?”

“Me with a boyfriend? Winning. Me with a boyfriend who happens to be you? She’ll be dancing down the aisles at church and calling wedding planners.”

Tennessee made a strangled noise as he blinked a few times.

“Breathe.” I patted his thigh with my hand, flexing my fingers against my cast. “No one’s proposing. Yet .”

“Yet.” Eyes wider than fried eggs, he swallowed hard but didn’t break eye contact.

“Yet,” I assured him with a huge grin. Removing my hand, I put the truck in Drive. “Now come on, keep guessing about dinner.”

Mouth twisting, Tennessee thought for several long seconds as I headed into town. Deciding to give him a clue, I hummed a line from an oldie I knew he’d recognize.

“No way.” He smiled slowly, head tilting. “Pinball Pizza? Is that place even still open?”

“Yup.” I beamed at him. The seventies-era pizza place had been largely untouched during our childhood—plastic chairs, scarred wooden tables, lots of ancient video games lining the walls, and mediocre pizza heavy on traditional favorites like pepperoni. We’d loved it. Tennessee’s family never ate out, but my mom had always made sure to include him in our celebrations there.

“And they take reservations?” His tone was understandably skeptical.

“They’ve remodeled. Gone upscale like the rest of downtown. We probably could get a table without reservations, but they are pretty popular these days. New ownership with a liquor license. New menu too, with gourmet toppings and a wood-fired crust. Refurbished game machines, but same building. Same name.”

“Same us.” Tennessee gave a happy sigh.

“Same us,” I agreed. Pausing for a stop sign near town, I met his gaze. “New start?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, voice sounding decidedly dazed. “This is turning out to be some date.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” I waggled my eyebrows at him.

“Oh.” His mouth made a perfect circle, pale skin looking even more so.

“Chocolate, Tennessee. Chocolate.” I pitched my voice soothingly. I’d already figured out that Tennessee wasn’t the hookup type and likely had far less experience than he’d admit. “There’s a candy store near the pizza place, and I picked up some truffles for dessert. I’m not expecting sex, promise. We can take things slow.”

“Hmmm.” He considered this for a few more blocks. “What if I don’t want slow?”

“Then we can take it fast but make it last.” I beamed at him. “We can set whatever pace you want.”

“We want. Our pace.” He exhaled hard. “I think I like the hurry-up-but-make-it-count plan. I’m not feeling all that patient.”

“Me either.” Chuckling, I gave him a heated look. “How fast can you eat pizza one-handed?”

“Very.”