Laughing, Josh grabbed me harder and, using his body weight, pushed me back. I fell onto the blanket with an ‘oof’ that I felt through my entire being, but it was short-lived. Josh was so much bigger than I was, and he covered my body with his, acting like a human umbrella.
The last thing I saw before he kissed me was his grin.
It split his face and danced in his eyes, and I felt that smile in every single touch we shared. His fingers slid into my hair and around the back of my head. His kiss was heady and consuming, and it was almost enough to make me forget that it was raining.
Almost.
My jeans were soaked through, after all.
Not that it stopped me from kissing him back. I wasn’t sure there was anything that could stop me from kissing him back. It was almost a compulsion. I was beginning to crave the way I felt when his lips were against mine, and it was absolutely terrifying.
Especially when my heart was hammering against my chest the way it was now.
“Josh,” I whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I’m wet.”
He pulled back to look down at me, his lips curving into a smile. “Oh, yeah.”
I ran my tongue over my dry lips. “My clothes. My clothes are wet.”
He wiggled his eyebrows.
“From the rain, Joshua.”
With a laugh, he got up and rummaged in his duffel bag. As I sat up, I saw the tell-tale sight of an umbrella being undone and opened, and I glared at him.
“Are you kidding? What? You couldn’t make out with me under that instead?”
He positioned it so it was over my head. “I thought women liked to be kissed in the rain.”
“We do, but if there’s an umbrella available, we’ll take it.”
“You say it like you’re speaking for all women.”
“I am.” I nodded and took the umbrella. “Trust me, I am.”
“Well, sue me for trying to book-woo you.”
“Book-woo me? What on Earth is book-wooing?”
He moved the umbrella so we were both covered by it. “Book-wooing: the art of applying fictional romantic notions to real life to woo someone.”
I blinked at him, fighting back a smile. “You made that up, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. It’s cute, huh?”
“Yes,” I muttered. Begrudgingly. The last thing I needed was for him to start swiping random scenes from books or, worse, scenes he’d read about on the Internet.
If he walked into my bedroom with a flogger and nipple clamps, we were going to need a come-to-Jesus moment.
“So what is this so-called art?” I leaned against the huge log behind us and nestled into Josh’s side when he wrapped his arm around me. Despite the fact we were now cloaked in darkness aside from the dying embers of the fire and it was raining, it was weirdly cozy up here.
“I just told you.” His shoulders shook with his laugh. “Putting fictional things that make you love romance so much into action so I look like a nice romance hero.”
“Oh, yeah. I can just see you on the cover of some historical novel, shirtless, with long hair flowing like a majestic highlander.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’d be on one of those sex books on Amazon.”
“If you refer to romance novels as sex books again, we’re breaking up.”
“What should I call them?”
“Romance novels,” I said dryly. “You know, their name. What they are, instead of a derogatory term designed to diminish their place in society and the women who read them.”
“But they have sex in them.” I could almost hear his frown.
“It’s also a billion-dollar industry, and arguably the only one that truly empowers female writers. Usually, they’re dismissed as wannabe authors with no credibility and left to write under an alias with initials so nobody knows they’re female. Ironically, it’s also the most viciously attacked, and that’s probably because of the fact it’s primarily female led. If sex in a fictional novel bothers you, I’d like to introduce you to the porn industry which is far more questionable than novels about two consenting parties.”
Josh paused, shifting almost uncomfortably. “Well, that’s the last time I call them sex books.”
“Thank you. If you’d like a sex book, I’m sure I can find some in the non-fiction section in the store. Or, you know. Buy you a Playboy.”
“I haven’t used Playboy since—well, never.”
“Liar.”
He laughed again. “Okay, we’re off topic.”
“You got us there.”
“Anyway,” he said, steering the conversation back to where we were before our little detour. “I did some research about romance novels and the most popular scenes. And, I’ll have you know, rain kisses were one of the most popular kiss scenes.”
“Look at you, Mr. Romance.”
He dipped his head to meet my eyes, grinning. “I’m trying.”
My lips pulled to one side. “Shall we go?”
CHAPTER TWENTY – JOSH
rule twenty: sometimes, the best conversations are the ones where you don’t say a word.
“Why? This is nice.”
Kinsley pouted a little. “Because it’s wet and getting cold.”
I sighed. I wasn’t really ready to go back to the world just yet, but she clearly was. “All right, let’s go. I just have to pick this all up.” I shuffled out from under the umbrella and stood up.
Kins didn’t move. “We don’t have to. The rain seems like it’s stopping.”
It wasn’t a lie. It was getting lighter all the time, and it did look as though it was about to stop any moment.
“No, you’re cold. You don’t need to get sick. Come on.” I held out my hand for her to take so I could pull her up. She slipped her hand in mine, and as soon as I tightened my grip on her, she yanked me back down.
“What are you doing? You just said you wanted to go.”
“Well, you don’t want to, so we don’t have to. And it’s nearly stopped raining. We can relight the fire if it does. There’ll be dry wood around here somewhere.”
I blinked at her. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear, only for it to fall back free. “Besides, it’s nice to be up here
