We'd Know by Then by Kirsten Bohling

Author:Kirsten Bohling [Bohling, Kirsten]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fiction & Literature, Contemporary Women, Contemporary
ISBN: 9781737767961
Google: 6Xm4zgEACAAJ
Publisher: Lake Country Press & Review
Published: 2022-04-05T04:00:00+00:00

Together, as the dimming daylight set the sky ablaze with striking golds and warm splashes of tangerine, Cain and Brighton set off in the same Uber he intended to take home alone.

They went to Gino’s East and lost track of time over a few pints and a deep-dish pie. Glasses stacked up in front of them as the time ticked away. Brighton couldn’t help herself. Every time the confession crawled to the tip of her tongue, she’d drown it with another beer. Then another. And another.

The conversation was as easy as it had always been, maybe even easier than before without the thing Brighton shackled herself with for years. She was free. Free, but still too chicken to tell Cain what happened.

Brighton could feel her body buzzing from the effects of the alcohol. She moved fluidly, always a little further than she meant; laughing a little louder and smiling a little wider.

Knees slotted comfortably between Cain’s, Brighton drained the last few drops from her glass, setting it down harder than she meant.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Colour Girl?” Cain chuckled, offering an easy, lopsided grin. “You’re giving hobbits a run for their money.”

Brighton let out a loud laugh and a hiccup. “M’drowning my sorrows.”

“Are you?” Cain was puzzled, leaning closer with a furrow of his brow. “D’you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” Brighton polished off the word with a crisp pop of her lips. The words she needed to say bubbled up, so she motioned for the bartender. Maybe drowning her fears in tequila would help.

Cain swore when Brighton slapped a pair of glasses down and slid a bottle of Mezcal over scuffed mahogany. He watched her, hand perched on Brighton’s knee as she ripped open the cork and put a healthy splash into each one.

Brighton hissed through her teeth after throwing one back. “I just. . . wanna have a drink with m’friend. And I—”

“Hold on.”

In the split second before Cain’s touch brushed against her skin, every nerve in Brighton’s body was electrified. Her head spun, and as Cain’s thumb collected a trip of golden agave nectar from her chin, Brighton’s resolve crumbled.

One touch and Brighton’s intoxication became so much more than the warmth in her chest and the taste of tequila. It rushed across every inch of her skin, furling out from her core in a way she was sure to regret tomorrow.

Except, it wasn’t tomorrow. It was right now, and with everything lingering between them like the promise of a summer storm, Brighton swore time didn’t exist at all. Fate pressed pause, letting them linger in the moment as Cain Whitaker’s hot hands caressed the long line of her throat, pulling her in as her eyes roved over every inch of his lovely face.

Brighton counted his every faded freckle, idly wondering if God flecked a paintbrush across his skin to make him so beautiful. With a shiver, Brighton imagined herself—imagined them—mapping out those marks like an explorer charting the stars, carefully cataloging each one with a kiss.

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