Kiss Me That Way: A Cottonbloom Novel (39 page)

BOOK: Kiss Me That Way: A Cottonbloom Novel
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He held his hands up. “Are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not … Yes, I am, but not in a bad way. I like the way you talk. It’s cute.”


Cute?
Geez, next you’ll be putting ribbons in my hair.” “Cute” was the word any man of legal age dreaded hearing from an attractive woman.

“I didn’t say
you
were cute, you’re…” Her gaze drifted over him.

“I’m what?”

“Definitely something other than cute.”

The way she said it made him think it was meant as a compliment. “What else is there to do?”

“Let’s see … Uncle Delmar and some of his buddies play bluegrass out on River Street the occasional Saturday evening in the summer. Turns into a kind of block party. They built that new movie theater up by the college. An ice cream shop opened this spring on the Mississippi side. And there’s this charming establishment.” She presented the bar like a game show host presenting a prize.

“Wow. You’re really stretching for entertainment.”

“God, I know. You’re going to regret moving back.”

“I doubt that,” Nash said before throwing back the last of his Scotch.

The front door opened and a breeze gusted around the bar, curling smoke around them. Bands were tightening around his lungs, and he forced himself to breathe slowly. Call it prideful or just plain foolish, but he didn’t want to pull out his inhaler in front of her.

“You could come down to the gym. You look like you’re in good shape. Do you spar?” Her eyes flashed over his body again. Was she checking him out? Or assessing how easily she might kick his butt? Deciphering the ancient scrawls of monks was effortless compared to reading women.

“A little.” Gaining early admittance to college at sixteen had made him an easy target for teasing. The fact he’d been a gawky late bloomer who looked closer to twelve than sixteen put a bull’s-eye on his back, and he’d taken a martial art class at the urging of his counselor.

Martial arts had given him friends and confidence—two things he’d never had in abundance. When he’d moved to Scotland for graduate school, he’d taken up boxing, finding the workout and regimen more suited to his energy levels. It was an outlet for his generally sedentary work and a way he kept a handle on his asthma.

“Why don’t you come down one day after your last class and I’ll put you through your paces.”

“I’m not teaching this summer, actually.”

“You’re not working?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m finishing up a paper on Charlemagne for publication in a trade magazine and catching up on my reading—both academic and for pleasure—and planning for my fall classes.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she sat up straight on the stool, swinging her legs back around to face the bar. She toyed with her still half-full beer glass, but didn’t take a sip. An awkwardness had descended, but he wasn’t sure why.

His nervousness grew in the silence. He’d worked hard over the years to control his ingrained shyness when it came to the opposite sex, but Tallulah was different. He wanted her to like him, dammit. He didn’t want to take her home—not yet anyway—he just wanted a chance to get to know her now that they were grown. The closed-off look on her face made him wonder if he’d already blown it.

“Do you still go down to the river?” He choked off another coughing fit.

She side-eyed him, but didn’t turn to face him again. The connection that had been knitting itself together had frayed. “Not so much anymore. Sawyer bought a house that backs up to the river farther into the parish, but”—she shrugged—“it lost its magic somewhere along the way.”

He coughed again and his hand slipped into his pocket. He wasn’t going to make it much longer. “Listen. I have to head out.” He stifled more chuffing coughs as he slid off the stool. “I’m going to take you up on your offer though. When’s a good time to drop by the gym?”

“Right after lunch is our slow time. Hey, are you all right?”

Squeezing his lips together to stem another round of lung-scraping coughs, he backed away, nodding. He hit the front door and launched himself outside, taking big gulping breaths of humid air. Not caring who saw him now, he fumbled with his inhaler and took a hit.

The medicine coupled with the clean air offered immediate relief. He slid into his imported Land Rover Defender and banged his forehead against the wheel a couple of times. No doubt, Tallulah Fournette thought he was the biggest weirdo on either side of Cottonbloom.

 

ALSO BY
LAURA TRENTHAM

Slow and Steady Rush

Caught Up in the Touch

Melting Into You

 

Praise for
Laura Trentham
’s Falcon Football Series

“[A] marvelously funny, engaging, and memorable romance in a place where everyone knows your name.”


Romantic Times
Top Pick on
Slow and Steady Rush

“A sweet, satisfying story.”


Publishers Weekly
on
Slow and Steady Rush

“Laura Trentham writes an intricately woven story that throbs with rich emotion. I laughed, I cried, I loved
Slow and Steady Rush
!”

—Bestselling author of the Sweet, Texas Series, Candis Terry

“This third installment in the ‘Falcon Football’ series wastes no time getting down to business. Steamy scenes and Southern charm help foster a tender story with high-stakes risks and delightful drama. Recommended for fans of down-to-earth romances in which mistrust and miscommunication must be overcome.”


Library Journal
on
Melting Into You

 

About the Author

An award-winning author,
Laura Trentham
was born and raised in a small town in Tennessee. Although she loved English and reading in high school, she was convinced an English degree equated to starvation. She chose the next most logical major—Chemical Engineering—and worked in a hard hat and steel-toed boots for several years.

She writes sexy, small-town contemporaries and smoking-hot Regency historicals. The first two books of her Falcon Football series were named Top Picks by
RT Book Reviews
magazine. When not lost in a cozy Southern town or Regency England, she’s shuttling kids to soccer, helping with homework, and avoiding the Mt. Everest–sized pile of laundry that is almost as large as the to-be-read pile of books on her nightstand.

Visit her at
www.LauraTrentham.com
or connect on Twitter at @LauraTrentham (
https://twitter.com/LauraTrentham)
or on Facebook (
www.facebook.com/LauraTrenthamAuthor
). You can sign up for email updates
here
.

    

 

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Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Epilogue

Excerpt from Then He Kissed Me

Also by Laura Trentham

Praise for Laura Trentham

About the Author

Copyright

 

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

 

KISS ME THAT WAY

 

Copyright © 2016 by Laura Trentham.

Excerpt from
Then He Kissed Me
copyright © 2016 by Laura Trentham.

 

All rights reserved.

 

For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

 

www.stmartins.com

 

eISBN: 9781466889798

 

Our books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, ext. 5442, or by e-mail at
[email protected]
.

 

St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / June 2016

 

St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

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