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Lila melts against me a little more. “Thanks. I think it turned out pretty great.”
“Isn’t that part of what you used to do? Didn’t you throw big parties for those—” Wren snaps her fingers several times like she’s trying to find the right word. “What do you call them?Jerksat your old job?”
“They did like to celebrate themselves.”
Hope laughs. “You sent me the copy that went with one of their last app rollouts that was just so…”
Lila lifts a hand. “You don’t have to finish that thought. I’m familiar with my work.”
“Dad says people like that are in love with their own genius.”
“Sounds like Josh was the worst of them all.” Wren stops cold and looks over at us. “Uh, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for my sake,” I say. “I agree with you.”
“But dang, you’ve made great changes all around.” Wren uses the last of the graham cracker to salute Lila. Just in case there was any confusion about her meaning, she tosses a wink in, too.
Lila makes a soft, almost purring sound. “I sure have.”
I’ve had a lot of memorable moments in my life, but this one sparkles like it’s something more.
Conversation moves between the others as a Journey balladserenades us. Lila shivers, and goosebumps break out on her arm beneath my fingers.
“Are you cold?” I say softly.
“I should have brought a wrap, but I didn’t think about it. Mom probably has something inside I can borrow.”
“I could keep you warm.” The offer is out in a flash, my deepest wants rising up to seize their opportunity as though I haven’t had my arm around her all evening.
Her gaze drops from my eyes to my mouth. She swallows. Every little movement of her throat requires study. The pulse in her neck. The shift at the hollow of her throat. How can such a common action have such overpowering appeal?
“Okay.” Her response is more breath than sound.
She shifts, and I slide her onto my lap, wrapping my upper body around her. My arms cage her in, hands slipping down her bare arms before crossing at her waist. Her head is right next to mine, my mouth at her ear. “Good?”
“Mm hmm.”
In the firelight, her face glows pink. We breathe in time, a duet I wouldn’t mind sharing again someplace more private. Her perfume is soft, nearly gone this late in the evening. I slip her hair to one side and drop my nose to where her shoulder meets her neck and breathe deep.
The scent affects me on a cellular level, everything inside me claimingMine.
She shivers again, but no goosebumps appear.
“What is your perfume?” I wrap my wandering hand back around her before it can trace the length of her neck or dance down her spine.
“It’s, um…tomato.”
“Tomato?” The scent is fresh and clean but zesty, too. I wouldn’t have called it as tomato, but that fits.
She nods, turning a touch to try to face me. “It’s from a placethat sells unusual scents like grass or laundry or dirt. You might like that one.”
“I like yours. Why did you choose it?”
“Because I didn’t want a perfume everyone else is wearing. I wanted something that belonged to just me.”
She certainly has. I’m going to go home with this scent imprinted on my synapses. I could walk into a room thirty years from now and smell that perfume, and I’ll come straight back to tonight.Lila.
“Do you fly fish, Grant?”
