Page 135 of Down Bad

He stares back, listening.

“Maybe I could smile less,” I point out.

“Don’t you dare.”

Despite trying to keep a straight face, I crack. “Or else what?”

He takes a step forward. “Or I’ll give you a reason to smile.”

“So now you like smiles?”

He hooks his hands under my legs and lifts me to the counter, which bumps my floral snips onto the floor where they clatter. “Just yours.” Then he goes in for my neck, surprising me, as I rock my eyes back and squirm against his kisses. “Don’t give them to anyone else but me,” he growls. “No one else deserves them.”

I struggle to find anything to hold onto except his body, so my fingertips carve wrinkles into his shirt as I cling for balance.

He gives my neck no mercy with his fierce lips.

Then his tongue comes out to play and I’m done for.

It isn’t the first time I’ve watched the sun set while in my little greenhouse, but it’s sure the first time I’ve had someone macking on me while doing it. And when I lose my pants and he loses his, I sure hope I don’t have another neighbor who’s outside growing too curious about the commotion on the other side of the fence.

Needless to say, we spend a lot of time out there.

More time than I’d intended when first planning to just tend to my sweethearts, including dear Bertha and her pink kisses.

By the time the stars are out, we’re inside and making dinner. Neither of us put our pants back on for some reason. For all of my concern about backyard peepers, I apparently don’t care about the show we might be putting on through the kitchen window. I keep stirring the pot, smirking and happy. He chops up vegetables.

Then he stops. “I don’t want you to … to think I came over just for this.”

I look at him. “For dinner?”

“For sex.” His grip on the knife changes. “Just wanted to make sure you were fine. After your sister left. Things got pretty heated back at the restaurant, and … and I just wanted to make sure.”

“I’m okay, Diego. Promise.” I nod at the counter. “As long as you don’t lose a finger worrying about me.”

He frowns. “I’m not worried.” He goes back to chopping away, slower this time.

A moment passes. “I thought about you, too, Diego.” He stays quiet as he works, listening. “How you stand up for me. Even when I … may not seem to appreciate it. Thanks. For doing that.”

“Only ‘cause you don’t do it enough yourself.”

“I’m saying you’re sweet.”

“Just doin’ what’s right.”

“Take the compliment, will you?”

He pauses. Struggles. Then gives in. “Thanks.” After scooping the diced-up vegetables into the bowl, he stops. “Someone’s gotta have your back if you don’t watch it yourself. I’ll even defend you in ways you don’t even see.”

“You don’t always have to be on the defense, y’know.” I look at him. “You’re allowed to let your guard down now and then. I’m not sure if you noticed yet, but this town’s a safe, pleasant place.”

He shrugs. “Has its perks.”

“Friendly faces—no matter how averse you are to them.”

“Sure.”

“Always someone to watch the dog when you’re outta town. Or water the plants.”