“Bring it, Jessica.”
She filled her hands with the thick sludge, and when he dove around to the other side of the car for cover, she slid across the hood, hit the soggy ground on the other side, and threw for all she was worth. The mud ball smashed into his shoulder as he brought it up to block, drops hitting his neck and ear.
“Where’d you learn the slide-across-the-hood move?”
“Getaway driving. Not a stick shift vehicle, obviously.”
“Obviously.” He stalked forward. “But that leaves me no choice but to play dirty.”
She backpedaled, her arms out in front of her. “I think we’re both dirty enough.”
He lunged at her, and she let out a high-pitched squeal she wasn’t proud of, but there it was anyway. Her feet slipped as she turned to run, and she was going down—before he even got hold of her too, dang it.
Mud squished between her fingers in the grossest of ways. Come to think of it, with all the cows and horses, there was undoubtedly a fair amount of manure mixed in.
She rolled onto her butt and peered up at Wade’s smug expression. “This doesn’t mean you win. If anything, gravity does.”
He laughed and extended a hand.
She clamped on, let him pull her halfway up, and then jerked, throwing her weight back. Her butt hit the ground hard for as squishy as it was, but it was worth it when Wade tumbled down with her.
She flung mud as she scrambled away, but he caught her foot and dragged her to him. Then she was on her back and he was over her, his palms braced on either side of her head. They were both filthy, and she knew she should care, but it only made her get the giggles all over again.
She brought up one knee and pushed to sit using her palms, right as he shifted slightly forward, causing their hips to bump together. His gaze dipped to her mouth, and her giggles died in her throat.
Her mind did a quick one-eighty, thinking back to when he’d first mentioned driving a stick shift. She’d joked it’d been a long time, long enough she worried she’d forgotten how, and she hadn’t been talking about a truck.
It’d been so long since she’d even been this close to a man, and sure, this one pissed her off sometimes. But then he’d say something funny, or he’d give her a look, and… Her heart beat faster. They were already filthy, and her body whispered that it was onboard with exploring all meanings of the word.
Her breaths came out labored, and she noticed his were just as ragged.
Did he move closer? Did she?
Did it matter?