Bliss and the Art of Forever (A Hope Springs Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the shell, to feel the sting of the pepper on her tongue. To look into the base of the piece at the color of the creamy filling. To breathe deeply of the chocolate and the chilies and the buttery ganache.
    But nope. She tossed it back as if it were a handful of M&M’S. And he loved it. Loved her smile as she savored the tastes. Loved her eyes going big behind her glasses and her lips tightening when the heat of the chilies hit.
    Loved that she’d appreciated his artistry, but hadn’t made it into a big deal. She’d done what he’d wanted her to do. Enjoyed herself. And that made him feel as if he’d made the best choice in the world with his life.

    Though Brooklyn insisted she could make her own way back to the school for her car, Callum insisted on taking her. She wouldn’t have minded the walk; it wasn’t but a couple of miles. Or, though she would’ve had to wait awhile, she could’ve used one of her taxi apps to call for a car.
    But no. Callum had brought her to Bliss, and, he said, he’d take her back. She didn’t put up much of an argument. Not really. She’d enjoyed the wind blowing through the fabric of her clothes, tugging at the knot of her hair. The bike growling beneath her like a big jungle cat.
    The return trip was just as consuming, her legs open, her lower body pressed tightly to his, gripping his, clutching his. It was an incredibly intimate position to be in, while having nothing to do with the familiarity implied. Yet just for a moment, before they arrived, she let herself imagine what it would be like if he were doing more than taking her for a ride.
    He stopped next to her car, the only one still parked in the teachers’ lot, and waited for her to slide from the seat behind him. Once she was on her feet, her legs shaking, her heart tripping, he kicked the stand and pulled off his helmet, taking the second she handed him, one that truly was an extra, because it was too big for a six-year-old. He lashed it in place, his gripped between his thighs.
    “I had fun,” she said, flexing her fingers into her palms so she didn’t reach for his hair. It was too long. It was in his face. She couldn’t imagine him wearing it any other way. “And the candy . . . I can still taste the peppers. It’s like they’re sitting right at the back of my throat.”
    “But not too hot.”
    It was a statement, not a question, as if he’d worked long and hard to get the flavors just right. She imagined he had. “Perfectly hot. Especially since the chocolate is still there, too. Thank you for showing me what you do.”
    He nodded, holding tight to her gaze, his searching. “Do you feel better about Addy now?”
    “I never felt bad about her. I see your influence in her every day. How polite she is. How inquisitive. I was more worried about you.”
    “Me?”
    Tucking her hair behind her ear, she nodded. “I didn’t want you to be missing out on these years with her.”
    For a moment she thought she’d gone too far. His hands tightened around the handlebars, and he looked away, his jaw clenched. But then he glanced back and said, “It’s getting dark. Let me follow you home.”
    “You don’t need to.” She gestured toward her car, flinging away the nerves tickling the length of her limbs. “I’ll be fine.”
    “Please,” he said, and at last she nodded, and that was that.
    The thrum of his bike vibrated behind her as she drove. The headlight pierced her car’s back window like a beacon. His following her made her strangely anxious, when having spent the last hour with him, she should feel completely at ease. He wanted to make sure she got home safely. That was all.
    She’d been getting herself home safely for years. Yet having Callum behind her, his big bike, his big body, his hands . . . what was wrong with her? He wasn’t coming home with her to take her to bed. He was just being kind, she told herself, pulling into her driveway and hitting the button to open the garage, reminded again,