Then He Kissed Me: A Cottonbloom Novel by Laura Trentham Read Free Book Online

his hands behind his head and let out a slow breath. The night was clear, and the stars were visible through the skylights. They seemed closer and brighter tonight. The confrontation with Heath had nothing to do with the remnants of adrenaline pumping through his body. The pulsing energy was because Tallulah Fournette was in his bed. It didn’t seem to matter that nothing was going to happen.
    The silence stretched a long time, so long, he assumed she was asleep. His body calmed, even though his mind was still active. When she shifted toward him, he turned his head. On her side with her knees drawn up and her hands tucked under her cheek, she stared at him.
    “I came here once when we were twelve or so. It was November, right after Thanksgiving. Rode my bike all the way in the cold. Could barely feel my fingers.” Her voice had a tentative quality that made her sound younger and less secure.
    “I didn’t know. Where was I?”
    “Here I think, but your aunt answered the door. Mother taught me how to be polite, how to introduce myself. But I’ll never forget the way she looked at me.”
    The same protective impulse that sent him across the parking lot bowed him up now. He turned on his side and propped his cheek in his hand, ignoring the burn of his scratches. “How so?”
    “Like I was something below the scum off a pond. Like poverty was something she could catch by me breathing on her. She told me to skedaddle and to not come back. Said you were happy and didn’t want to be my friend anymore.” Her voice broke on the last two words.
    His lungs emptied and strained for air, not in the way of an asthma attack, but the way of reflected pain. Anger at his aunt’s high-handedness burned low and slow. He didn’t know if Tally needed or even wanted comfort, and without letting himself consider it, he trailed his callused fingers over her soft skin and into her hair.
    “I never told her that. You know that, right? I missed you more than I can even express. You were my only friend, and I lost you in a blink.” His hand formed a fist in the silky strands as if physically holding on to her now could rewrite their history.
    A moment passed. Neither of them moved. The shadows were too deep to see her eyes, but the Fournettes had the gift of night-sight, every single one of them, Tally included. Whatever she saw in his face sent her rolling toward him. She hugged him tight, her face in his neck.
    He kept one hand in her hair and returned her hug with the other, breathing her in. His shampoo and soap smelled different on her, more feminine and sensual. Her hands brushed over his back. Her breasts were soft against his bare chest. He shivered, but not from cold. He let her go and lay on his back before she could take note of his rock-hard erection. That not-so-little problem occurred in about two seconds flat. Instead of Superman, maybe he needed to adopt The Flash’s emblem.
    She settled shoulder to shoulder with him, the sheet drawn up to her chin. “Why does your aunt hate me? Is it because I’m a swamp rat?”
    The disparaging way she’d said the nickname given to anyone born on the Louisiana side of the river surprised him. As kids they’d been proud to be swamp rats. “Considering my mom—her sister—married one and I am one and a good number of the ladies she quilts with are swamp rats, I don’t think it’s that.”
    “Then it’s me in particular she hates. What did I do to her?”
    Nash didn’t know that to say, because his aunt had always shown a marked dislike for Tally. In fact, a mention of any of the Fournettes would be sure to draw a lemony expression to her face. Her disapproving glances when he’d high-tailed it upriver as often as possible hadn’t bothered him as a child, but knowing she’d driven the final wedge between him and Tally was unsettling.
    “Does it matter anymore? We’re grown and don’t need anyone’s approval to be friends.”
    She chuffed a laugh. “I suppose not. Your aunt