Page 6 of In Every Chapter

In a move so smooth it made me swoon a little, Greyson gripped my hips and lifted me across the bench seat to sit next to him. Bench seats, the most romantic thing about trucks. “Especially then,” he growled playfully, our noses brushing. “I fell in love with an incredibly smart, sexy librarian, and I seem to recall something about a proper goodbye.”

Then he kissed me. Long and slow. Not a peck or a buss. This was a toe-curling goodbye kiss filled with promise.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him take the lead, loving the slight rasp of his scruff against my cheek. The firm pressure of his hand on my hip, the other trailing up my spine. The way his lips teased mine, giving and coaxing.

It was a perfect kiss in every—

“Ugh!” I shrieked, yanking away as a very cold, very wet nose bumped my ear.

Greyson groaned, and I glared at Rosie Cotton, the two-year-old golden retriever we’d adopted last winter. Her mouth opened, and I ducked, shoving my face into Greyson’s chest. There was no way I was getting tongue action from a canine.

“I know you think you love him best, but I was here first, missy,” I scolded, shoving her lightly back onto her side of the narrow back seat and out of licking range. She’d been so well behaved until now that I’d forgotten she was in here.

“You’re still my best girl, Pais.” Greyson chuckled, leaning in for another kiss.

A firm thump from the hood startled us apart.

Mrs. Gulliver stood at attention in front of the truck, hands on her ample hips, scowling at us. In most small towns, there was always one lady who ran the local gossip mill and took to policing the morality of the young folk . . . or in our case, happily married couples. Avonlea had Mrs. Lynde; Serenity Springs had Mrs. Gulliver.

Mrs. Gulliver, in all her fuchsia-streaked white-haired glory, was a town staple. Or a menace, depending on who you asked. She’d taught Sunday School for forty years, been a PTA mom before it was a thing, and was married to the mayor. Plus, her son was the police chief. All a bit too much in the family, if you asked me.

Lucky for us, she must have been in a chipper mood to have only smacked the hood with a warning. We definitely could have been hit with a ticket, courtesy of the mayor.

For what, you might ask? Probably something along the lines of a public amorous embrace. Didn’t know that was a crime? Neither did I until I moved to Serenity Springs.

I bit my kiss-swollen lip. “Gulliver sighting.”

Greyson snorted. “What’s she going to do? Report us for public indecency? I didn’t even take my shirt off”—he side-eyed me—“this time. And we were just kissing, not even fogging up the windows.”

Cheeks flaming, I swatted his middle—his abs perfectly muscly and solid. Thank you, Marine Corps. “Did you see if she had her phone? I’d rather not have our making out end up on The Vine. Seriously, what was your brother thinking when he made that thing? It was supposed to be a local app for news, not a gossip column!”

“Love, that was hardly making out,” Greyson scoffed. “In fact, if you want—” He leaned towards me, warm breath skittering over my neck.

“I’d advise you not to finish that sentence.” I scooted farther to my side of the cab, out of reach.

Mrs. Gulliver nodded in approval before tottering down the street again. She was nearly eighty. Wasn’t it too early for her to be up and about? Didn’t she need her rest?

Greyson dropped his head back against the headrest with a low chuckle. “Almost four years, and she’s still thwarting my romantic overtures.”

I twisted my wedding ring and unabashedly studied Greyson’s profile as he laughed. He didn’t do it often, especially in this carefree manner. Strong jaw and nose. Tousled sandy-brown hair, somewhere between blond and brunet depending on the lighting. Perpetual light scruff. Hypnotic ocean-blue eyes. A faint scar slashing through his right eyebrow from a roughhousing accident with his brothers growing up. Broad shoulders that didn’t mind shouldering the weight.

I’d married a good man. A handsome one, too.

“Pais, if you plan on working today, you should probably hop out now,” Greyson said, smirking wryly when he caught me ogling the taut muscles in his neck. “Before Gulliver comes back and really has grounds to slap us with a public-indecency fine.”

I rolled my eyes, tucking away the catalog of my husband’s fine features for later. “We would never.”

Greyson hopped out and jogged around the front to open my door. But before I stepped out, he glanced up and down the street before ducking down and cupping the back of my neck to draw me in for one last kiss. “Says who?”

I laughed and slid out, wrapping my arms around him. “Have a good morning. We’re still on for lunch?”

“Yeah, and I’ll pick you up after work. You finish at 4:30?”

I nodded, glancing up at him. “But I have to finish painting the library’s windows, so don’t rush.” In addition to my librarian status, I had a side job of painting seasonal window murals for all the downtown businesses, and the library’s were the last ones on my summer list, thank goodness. I was getting tired of perching on ladders.

“Pretty sure I’ll be rushing anyway since this town seems intent on chaperoning me and my wife.” Greyson kissed my forehead and with a last squeeze released me. “That might be the breaking point for me accepting Keegan’s offer.”

More laughter bubbled out of me. “So you say. Oh!” I whirled back to him. “I still need to grab a few things before the girls and I leave for the hot springs tomorrow.”