Crimson Born - Amy Patrick Page 0,5

Reece certainly looked like one.

Big, dark-haired, and wearing a grin so full of wicked charm I literally felt my knees go weak.

Another thing I’d thought only happened in books.

I stopped in place, holding his gaze but not answering, as there wasn’t sufficient air in my lungs to produce speech.

In the dark of the lakefront, I had thought Reece attractive, simply based on his impressive size and the sound of his deep voice. But now... here in the light, I could really see him.

I wasn’t sure there were enough pages in my journal.

“Your shoe’s untied. You’re gonna trip and fall,” he said. “Come here. I’ll tie it for you.”

“I can tie my own shoe,” I protested, but my feet moved toward him of their own accord.

“Yeah, but why bother when you have a willing volunteer here to do it for you.”

Seeing my hesitation, he added, “I’m not gonna bite, Abbi.”

“It’s Abigail.”

Reece patted the shiny red hood just beside his left hip. “Pop that foot up here, Abigail. We’ll fix you right up. You’ll be two-stepping and doing a tango in no time. Zero tripping, guaranteed.”

“You want me to put my shoe on your car?”

“That teensy little foot’s not gonna do any damage.”

I tried to imagine hiking my leg up and propping my foot beside a virtual stranger. This was all too weird.

“I’m wearing a skirt.”

He feigned offended shock, placing the fingertips of one hand delicately on his chest.

“Oh no. I might catch a glimpse of bare ankle.” Then his grin widened. “I won’t peek. Promise.”

Normally when I’d go into town with my family or when I’d go to church, I’d have on black stockings, but I’d left them off for the party tonight.

It was a warm night, and I’d felt like being a little bit daring. Now it seemed downright scandalous.

Good sense told me to walk away. I had no business even speaking to someone with a nickname like “Hellion,” especially after what had happened at the lakefront. Reece had somehow managed to turn a horseshoe-throwing lesson into a seduction.

But sometimes good sense just isn’t happening.

I found myself going along with his suggestion, lifting my foot and propping my plain black shoe against the front part of his car’s hood.

With both hands, I held my skirt down around my bare leg and watched as he set to work on my shoelace. His hands were large and tanned, the short-trimmed nails sun-bleached and clean.

Butterflies filled my belly as I watched his fingers wrangle with the thin leather laces.

As he tied, he talked. “You’re Amish, right? What’s that like? Wait, that’s a dumb question. I guess I mean, do you like it?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. It’s fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah. It’s a good life... good enough anyway.”

Reece didn’t look up, just stayed focused on the knot he was painstakingly creating. “There’s no such thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s no such thing as ‘good enough.’ Either it’s good, or it’s not good, or it’s great. I prefer greatness. There you go,” he said then patted the hood again. “Let me do the other shoe to match. Don’t want you walking around all lop-sided.”

Thinking about his words, I did as he asked almost robotically, offering up my other shoe for Reece’s attention.

Once again, he bent and gave the task his full concentration. The party lights glinted off his dark hair. It was much longer than Amish boys wore theirs, and it curled just the tiniest bit where it reached his collar and ears.

It was only shoe-tying, but somehow when Reece did it, it was... sensual.

If this guy could get me all worked up with horseshoes and shoelaces, I knew I couldn’t handle whatever other skills he might possess.

When he finished tying the laces, I set my foot on the ground and took a step back.

“Well... thanks. I should go and find my friends.”

He narrowed his eyes and twisted his lips in a wry grin. “What’s your hurry? Sit with me a few minutes. You’ll be able to spot them better from here anyway than you would wandering around in the crowd. I mean, they’re gonna end up in the parking lot eventually.”

Staring at him, studying his too-innocent expression, I decided to just be blunt.

“What do you want from me, Reece?”

He chuckled and shook his head again. “I just told you. I want you to sit with me, and talk for a few minutes, and enjoy this crimson moon. There won’t be another one for another two and a half years, you know. That’s not something to take lightly. Besides,