by Emma Nichole
He’s waiting for me in the lobby right where I left him, only this time, he has his hoodie off and folded over his arm.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Ready. Here.” He offers his hoodie to me. “You can hold it up over your head or put it on. Just to keep the rain off of you.”
“Thank you. That’s so nice.”
“My mama was a wise lady. Taught me to be a gentleman and my dad made sure it extended into manhood.” He holds the door open for me so we can step outside. “I’ll drive you and I can just drop you back here.”
“Okay. I drove Grayson’s truck this morning, so I’ll shoot him a text and let him know it’s safe.” I pull the hoodie on and tug the hood up over my head. The garment is huge, nearly swallowing me whole, but it smells like him. Soap, citrus, a hint of his cologne, and fabric softener.
“I can’t believe he let you drive it. He won’t even let me.”
“Amelia has softened him. Made him a bit of a pushover. It wasn’t hard to convince him,” I giggle.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Hey, I’m parked right over there.” He points to a large black truck to the right. “I’ll unlock it now and we’ll make a run for it.”
“Big truck. Compensating for something?” I tease.
“Play your cards right, and you might find out one day,” he spars right back and laughs when I roll my eyes.
“We both know I already played them right once.” I smile when he winces at the memory. “On the count of three,” I say. “One…Two...Three!” I take off in a sprint and he does the last thing I expect; he takes my hand and moves stride for stride with me.
We reach the truck quickly, but instead of going around to his side, he opens my door and helps me safely inside before taking his place behind the wheel.
“You’re soaked!” I say when he finally closes the door, sealing us in silence away from the rainfall.
“I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall. You’re in flip-flops.”
It’s those things, those little things—that really shouldn’t mean a lot—but they mean the world, and they make it even harder to resist this beautiful man beside me.
Chapter 7
Case
Should being around this girl be so easy? I feel like it shouldn’t. Women this beautiful and perfect tend to be stuck-up bitches, from my experience. And Nora just...isn’t.
She’s funny, comfortable to talk to, sharp as a tack, and more than easy on the eyes. She’s the total package and she is terrified of me.
Maybe not terrified, but she’s got ten-foot high walls up when it comes to me, but I’m going to break them down, one brick at a time.
“Oh my God. I love the smell of bacon and pancake batter,” she says when I open the door to Marvin’s, a local breakfast place on the outskirts of Savannah.
“Wait until you taste their bacon-infused waffles.”
“Bacon-infused waffles?” She looks at me with wide eyes. “I think I just came.”
Had I been drinking something, it would have went spewing everywhere. I tip my head back and laugh. “That can be arranged. Never fear.”
“What? Do they offer that here too? In the back somewhere?” She grins. I think I’ve met my match.
We are seated at a small booth in the back near the window. She pulls off my hoodie and tucks it onto the seat beside her, then picks up the menu. She’s so effortless.
“So besides the waffles, what else is good here?”
“The French toast is great, so is the breakfast casserole. Really, you can’t go wrong.”
“Good because I’m starving.”
I watch her as she looks over the menu, her eyes scanning back and forth, and the tip of her tongue pokes out from between her lips just a little as she thinks.
“You’re staring again,” she says, without looking up.
“Can you blame me?”
Our server comes to the table, taking our order of two regular coffees and two orders of the bacon-infused waffles.
“With extra syrup and a side of bacon,” she adds. “I am on vacation after all.”
Our server nods and scurries back to the kitchen to turn in the order.
“So,” she asks, “do you always work out that early in the morning?”
“No. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d hit the gym instead of running outside.” I stretch the truth a little, leaving out the nightmare.
“We must have been on the same wavelength. I couldn’t sleep either.”
“Any particular reason?” I lean back and cross my arms over my chest in a relaxed position.
She shakes her head. “I’m not a great sleeper. Never really have been. Not for years at least.”
“Insomnia?”
“No, I don’t think it’s any kind of clinical issue, I’m just not a big sleeper.” She thanks our server when the coffees are dropped off, and she adds two creamers and two spoonfuls of sugar, while I take mine black.
“How do you do that?” she asks, nodding to my mug.
“Do what?” I take an easy sip as it is scalding hot.
“Drink it black like that. There is no way you enjoy the taste. If you say you do, you’re lying.” She grins over the top of hers.
“Honestly, it’s shitty and awful, but I get more of the buzz from it without all the extras.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. It has to be in your head. Placebo effect or something.”
“Oh, yeah? What makes you so smart, huh?” I ask, clearly teasing.
“Well, the many years of college and nursing school didn’t exactly hurt.” She places her mug down and folds her hands around it to keep them warm.
“You told me last time you were here, you became a nurse for many reasons, but you never really shared them. I’d like to know. I’m fascinated by you,” I admit.
“By me? I’m just an ordinary woman with an ordinary job. My mom was a nurse, so it’s what I’ve always been around. When my parents died, it felt like I should continue her passion. Follow in her footsteps.”
I nod in understanding. “And the tattoo on your wrist? That’s a tribute to them, correct?”
She looks down at the red tattoo and slides her thumb over it. “Sort of. It’s a phoenix. It represents them, and well...me, I suppose.”
“A phoenix rising from the ashes. That’s you?”
“That’s me.”
“I like it. It suits you. May I?” I reach across to take her wrist when she agrees, pulling it to the middle of the table so I can see it better.
It’s a simple design, just a silhouette of the creature, but it’s beautiful and it fits her wrist perfectly.
“It’s beautiful.” I slide my thumb across the ink, and I can feel goosebumps erupt on her skin at my touch.
“Thank you.”
I don’t release my hold on her wrist or move my touch from her skin until I’m forced to when the food arrives.
She pulls her hand away quickly and settles it in her lap so her plate can be placed in front of her.
“Oh...” she says. “This is going to be so good.”
Nora
Can you have an orgasm from food? No other physical stimulation, just the rich, buttery maple taste of perfect waffles in your mouth?
After taking the last bite of my food, I’m convinced you can.
“Mmmmm. Oh my God,” I say with my mouth still full of food. Not my most attractive moment, but this needed to be said. “This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
Case just grins from ear to ear like he has a smart-ass retort, and boy does he ever.
“Perhaps we can work on taking that title away one day.”
I roll my eyes in response. “In your dreams, Officer Carmichael.”
“You can’t say things like that to me and expect me to keep my mind out of the gutter. Now I’m thinking about handcuffs and you in the back of my cruiser...” He leans in closer to me as he speaks.
“I bet you use that line on all the gir
ls.” I slip my tongue out and lick a little smear of syrup from my bottom lip.
“I’ve never had to use many lines. They just line up.”
I can tell from the smile on his face he’s kidding, or at least, I think so. He does give me major player vibes. Thus, my need to keep my vagina to myself.
“I’m sure.” I place my silverware down and lean back in my seat. “I’m stuffed.”
“I could take that statement straight to the gutter, but I’ll spare you.” He leans over to one side to pull his wallet from his back pocket.
“You don’t have to pay for mine. I can get it.” I reach over for my purse, but he immediately stops me.
“Don’t even think about it. I refuse to let you make me turn in my man card and my Southern gentleman card at the same time. Put. The. Purse. Down.”
I drop my bag and raise my hands up in surrender. “Geez. If you insist.”
“I do.”
Being around Case is too easy. I’m too relaxed. It is scary for me, because I know how easily I could fall for him. Between his Greek god-like good looks and his incredible personality, I’m nearly a goner...but his job stops me. Coupled with that thing he has with women? I just can’t compete.
Women adore him and I’m too jealous for that. I don’t want to hurt. I’ve hurt enough in my life. I don’t need a man to add to it.
But those dimples...
“So, I hear you are heading up to Atlanta with us for Amelia’s meeting,” Case says, breaking me out of my thought bubble as we ride back to my car.
“Us? What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, that’s my weekend off, and Grayson asked if I wanted to tag along. He said we could catch a game while we were in town on Sunday.” He only glances my way briefly, keeping most of his focus on the road.
“Amelia asked me to go with them since I’ve never been to Atlanta before.”
“Really? Don’t worry. I’ll show you all the sights. Everything Atlanta has to offer,” he says with a smile on his face.
“What makes you think I want to go now, since you’re going?” I cock my brow.
“Because I’m irresistible.”
“And arrogant.”
“Yeah, maybe a little of that too, but I’m charming so it evens out, right, sweetheart?” He flashes me a wink.
I shake my head with a laugh. “Well, you’re getting your own room.”
“But I’d rather share with you,” he teases.
“I hog the covers and I snore. I’m a terrible bedmate,” I joke.
“What do you know, me too.” He laughs, playing right along. “Think we’d cancel each other out?”
“Definitely not.”
“Eh, you’re right. I’d rather not kill the illusion of perfection you’ve got going on over there with your snoring.” He laughs.
I flash him the sweetest smile, then flip him the biggest bird he’s ever seen.
Chapter 8
Nora
I haven’t seen much of Case since our breakfast a couple of days ago. Apparently, work has been extra crazy, and honestly, I don’t want to know what that means.
I’ve just spent my time with Amelia and jotting my feelings down onto paper in my notebook. It’s been nice. It’s been exactly what I needed.
But now is the time to leave for our weekend in Atlanta with Grayson and Amelia, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.
Uninterrupted time with Case in a new place? This smells of an all-around bad idea for me, yet amazing at the same time.
I select a few outfits, a couple of things to sleep in, and some shoes, then shove them all into a small bag with my makeup and toiletries.
“All set?” Amelia asks from the doorway.
“Mmm hmm. I am.” I look around once. “I think.”
“Anything you forget, I’m sure we can find there, and it’s just a couple a nights.” She perches on the end of the bed. “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you Case was coming.”
I look her way and smile. “It’s okay. Really. I don’t know why you think it would be a problem.”
“Well, there’s all this...sexual tension with you two. I should have just warned you so you could bring your pretty panties.” She smirks.
“Uh, well, first of all, he won’t be seeing my panties, so that’s a moot point, and second of all...well...there is no second of all. He just won’t be seeing my panties.”
“Whatever you say, m’dear.” She stands up and kisses my cheek. “Case is one of the few good ones left, ya know? What are you so afraid of? A little fun?”
“I’m not scared of anything.”
“Liar.” She calls me on my bluff as she always does. “I’ll meet you downstairs. We have to drop Cadence with Grayson’s mom on the way out of town, so we are leaving in fifteen.”
“Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.”
She leaves the room and pulls my door closed.
I take a deep, cleansing breath before zipping my bag closed, pretty panties tucked in the bottom, because well...Who knows?
A few minutes later, I trudge down the stairs with my crossbody bag over my shoulder and my small duffel in hand.
I can hear Amelia and Grayson in the driveway. I can only assume they are loading things into the truck, but it’s the music coming from the living area that draws me in.
I place my bags by the door and follow the tune of some Ariana Grande song, and what I find melts my walls as if they were made of ice and Case was nothing but pure fire.
Case and Cadence, dancing together in the living room, singing a pop song I don’t even understand how he knows the words to.
He has her hand, spinning her around and around. She is all smiles and giggles. I knew she loved him immensely and he loved her, but seeing this...swoon.
“Nora!” I hear Cadence shout, effectively outing me for spying. “Come dance with us!”
“I think I like watching better,” I say, when Case meets my gaze from across the room.
“Nah, come on. Dance with us. You seem like the Ariana Grande type.” He grins.
“What is that type exactly?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“The type who likes to have a good time and not disappoint the five-year-old, who is giving you her best puppy dog face.”
I look down and sure enough, Cadence is poking that bottom lip out. “Pleeeeease,” she begs with a half-smile.
“You’re using her for your dirty work. You’re worse than Grayson.”
“No-no, I’m better than Grayson. Always better.” He laughs.
“There’s the ego. I thought you’d lost it there for a second, with all the dancing and twirling.”
“He does more than that, Miss Nora.” Cadence chimes in from the couch. “Sometimes, he and Daddy even let me do their makeup and put clips in their hair!”
I smile from ear to ear and turn my attention to Case. “Do they now?” I turn back to Cadence. “Well, I hope Amelia has pictures of that, because I can’t wait to see them.”
“See what?” We all turn when Grayson comes into the room.
“Pictures of you and Case when I did your hair and makeup!” Cadence shouts proudly.
“Ummm.” Grayson leans over and whispers to her, but we can all hear. “You were supposed to keep that a secret, Sweet Pea. I thought you had my back.”
“You let me put makeup on you, so what?” she replies, then hops off the couch. “I’m going outside with Melia. See ya in the car!” She takes off out of the room, shoes lighting up with each step.
“That girl...” Grayson shakes his head, and then turns to follow her, leaving Case and me alone.
Sexual tension instantly fills the empty space around us.
“Don’t let his reluctance fool you. He looks gorgeous in some lip gloss,” he states, as he steps closer to me and into my personal space bubble.
“As gorgeous as you?” My eyes sweep up to meet his.
“Nah, never, but I’m more of a lipstick man, myself.” He seizes the moment a
nd runs the tip of his finger across my liquid lipstick-covered bottom lip. “Red suits you.”
I can hardly breathe. His presence is suffocating, hot, but I’m drawn to him, despite my fear of him.
He’s a roaring fire.
Dangerous, but beautiful.
And I, against my better judgement, am ready to be burned.
My body acts on its own, driving me onto the tips of my toes, forcing my hands to his chest, easing my mouth to his.
I can feel his lips part as they ghost over mine...yes. God yes.
“Ready?” Amelia shouts from the front door, pouring a bucket of ice water all over the moment, and I step away quickly.
“Yeah! We’re coming,” I say back, never pulling my eyes from his.
He’s standing taller than normal, Christ, he even looks bigger. There isn’t an ounce of humor on his face when he grabs my hand as I start to turn away.
“This isn’t over, Nora. Not by a long shot.”
I don’t reply. I just stand in stunned silence as he leaves me alone in the room with a racing heart, goosebump-covered skin, and soaking wet panties.
Case
There’s something to be said for riding for four hours, in the back seat of an extended cab truck with a perpetual hard-on, that makes a guy a little on edge and cranky as fuck.
Especially when the source of said hard-on is a scalding hot blonde who smells like coconut and nearly let me kiss her earlier this morning.
I glance her way, just to steal a peek, and I catch her biting her lip as she reads a book on her phone.
Her little pink tongue darts out and slides across her lips then she rubs them together. It’s an unconscious move, to be sure, but it pulls a guttural groan from my throat because all I can think about is that tongue on my cock. A internal roar I thought I kept to myself, but when she quickly looks over at me, I know I’ve outed myself.
“You okay over there?” she asks.
Fuck. Think fast, Carmichael. Don’t let her know you’re a fucking creep.
“Uh, yeah, just bloated.” I pat my stomach and immediately curse myself.
