“Oh, God,” she moans, closing her eyes as a look of absolute pleasure drifts over her features sending a painful squeeze right to my blue balls. “This is so good.” She dives in for another mouthful, chewing and swallowing in the same way.
“I’m glad it’s up to your standards,” I joke.
We eat in relative silence, and finishing before her, I lean back in my chair and mull over the name situation. I don’t want to call her something random, I want it be a shorter version of her name… but what?
“Mili?” I ask, but as I say it, it doesn’t feel right.
Her nose wrinkles as she stares at me. “No. Definitely not that one.” She lifts the last bite to her mouth before placing her utensils down on her plate gently.
“What about… Amy?” She shakes her head again. “Yeah, that doesn’t feel right either. Are you finished?”
“I am.” She nods, grabbing the edge of her plate, about to stand up but I wave my hand at her, signaling for her to stay seated as I pick it up.
“I need to put the meat in the oven, but we can still talk.”
She gives me a contented smile as I walk over to the sink, putting the plates in there for later on. The lamb, onion, and carrots take two minutes to put in the oven and I make my way back over to her, watching briefly as she smiles out of the patio doors, enthralled by something in the distance.
“What’s got your attention, Lia?”
As soon as the name slips out of my lips, her head snaps around and I feel a fire starting in the pit of my stomach at the look she’s giving me.
“What did you just call me?” she asks, a slow steady smile spreading across her face.
“Lia.” I walk over to the table and sit down. “I think it suits you.”
Her head tilts to the side. “I think I like it.” She leans forward, her arms resting on the table as she rolls the name around her tongue, her gaze sliding from mine. “Lia.” Looking back at me, she says, “That’s the one.”
A grin spreads over my lips and I raise my beer bottle in jest. “To finding your new nickname.”
She raises hers. “To my new nickname.” She takes a pull, not looking away from me.
I swallow the beer in my mouth and place it back down on the table. “So, how’s plans for Izzie’s birthday party going?”
“Good.” Her eyes flash at the mention of Izzie, her shoulders drawing down. “She’s so excited, we made a mood board with all of her ideas.” She smirks. “Guess what it has on it?”
I pretend to think about it. “Hmm. Would princesses and unicorns have anything to do with it?”
She clicks her fingers before pointing at me. “Got it in one.” Laughing softly, she leans forward more, her hand coming to rest on top of the table. “Has Tris told you it’s fancy dress?”
“It’s a costume party?” She smirks and nods her head. “What’s the theme?”
She raises a brow. “You’re really going to ask that?”
“Will I need to wear pink?”
“Quite possibly,” she answers with a serious expression on her face.
“I guess I’m manly enough to get away with it.”
“You’ll make a very manly princess, that’s for sure.” She giggles. “But it’s probably best you come as a prince.” Her gaze rakes over my chest. “Maybe I should help you pick your costume?”
I lean toward her. “Are you insinuating I can’t dress myself, Miss Rivers?”
My eyes drift down to her bottom lip as she sinks her teeth into it before she says, “Me? Never. I can’t dress myself half of the time.”
“Coulda fooled me,” I retort, raking my gaze up her body. “That’s one hell of a jumpsuit.”
Her hands drift to her collarbone as she skims over the edge of the mesh insert, instantly drawing my eyes to her chest. “You can thank Charlotte for this ensemble.”
I push my chair back, needing to check on the lamb. “Well thank you, Charlotte. Excuse me a minute, I need to check on the food.”
She nods but I don’t miss the way her eyes dart to my ass as I turn around. I smile to myself: she was totally checking me out.
Amelia sets her knife and fork down as I take another pull on my beer, resting her hand on her stomach as she groans. “I’m so full, I don’t think I can eat another bite.”
“Not even dessert?” I raise a brow and she sighs with a humored look on her face.
“I guess I could be persuaded. What have you got for me?”
I put up a finger as I take our plates away and set out the dessert I prepared earlier—or should I say: laid out.
Setting it in front of her, she raises a brow when I sit down, staring at her plate. “I thought you said you couldn’t bake?”
I chuckle: she doesn't miss a beat. “I didn’t lie about that. Unfortunately our tart was made by a bakery in town, but the ice cream is homemade.”
It’s the best damn bakery I’ve ever eaten from though so I know it’ll be up to par.
“I could have made dessert and brought it with me.” She takes a bite of the lemon tart.
I shrug. “I don’t think asking my date to bring her own dessert is very romantic.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” She scoops the ice cream onto her spoon and I watch her, waiting for her verdict. “Perfect.”
Satisfied she’s happy with my pick of dessert, I tuck into mine and end up finishing before she does.
“So…” She starts, picking up the glass of water I brought her after eating the main course. “You’re a man of many talents. Surfing… cooking... Do you do everything to an extreme level of awesomeness?”
“Always,” I deadpan, trying to convey intensity in my eyes before clearing my throat. “But what about you? What do you do for fun apart from binge-watching Netflix and baking?”
She contemplates my question, biting her bottom lip and looking away from me deep in thought.
“I collect vinyl records,” she eventually says. “I love listening to them and finding the ones that have been well-used.” She turns her gaze back toward me with passion in her eyes. “I always search for the well-loved ones, the ones that have frayed edges and maybe even a couple of scratches on them, because those are the ones that have been listened to countless times. Sometimes I close my eyes as I listen to them, imagining what people did ten, twenty, fifty years ago as they listened to the same song from the same record.”
I’m entranced by the way she talks about them; she speaks with such passion I can’t help but wonder what else she’s passionate about.
“I saw the records in the pool house, that’s quite the collection.” She nods her head in agreement. “And I guess you can add surfing to your list now, too.” I smile wide, thinking back to a few weeks ago when I taught her how to surf.
“That I can.” She looks around the kitchen as if she’s searching for something. “Where is my surfboard? I hope you’re looking after her,” she teases.
I push out of my seat and hold my hand out toward her, a grin on my face. “I can take you to see her if you’d like?”
Placing her hand in mine, she stands. “I would like.”
I lead her into the main room of my house and head toward the hallway. She looks around at the closed doors, seemingly fascinated until we come to the third door on the right.
Opening the door for her, I let her step through the small entryway housing a door in front of us and one to the left. I open the one in front of us and wave my arm for her to go into the garage first.
As soon as she steps in, her gaze flicks around the room to the cars I have in here and I watch in fascination, trying to see how she sees it for the first time.
“Whoa, I didn’t realize you were such a car buff,” she mumbles, walking over to the bumblebee yellow, 1967 Shelby GT Mustang. “This is beautiful.” She trails her hand along the hood. “Do you drive it?”
“What would be the point in having them if they just sat here?” Every single one of these cars is well-used, I don’t have them for
decoration.
“Well yeah, but this is a classic.”
“All the more reason to drive it,” I reply, opening up a door to our left and motioning for her to walk inside.
She gasps when I flip the switch to turn on the lights and I watch her eyes take in all my sports equipment. They land on the shelves to our left lined with basketballs, baseballs, and footballs before moving onto the buckets full of golf balls, the bats and clubs for the corresponding sports lying underneath in the racks.
I lean against the doorframe as she takes a step toward my fishing gear and absentmindedly touches one of the rods before moving onto the wetsuits.
She finds hers and smiles, moving toward the surfboards she seeks out next.
“As you can see, your board is perfectly fine,” I say, breaking the silence.
“I can’t wait to get back out on the water with you,” she comments.
I watch her in deep thought, her hand skimming over the surface of her board and I can’t help myself. My footsteps echo around us as I walk toward her and I feel the heat of her back against my chest before I move her hair to the side, leaning down and placing a soft kiss where her shoulder meets her neck.
“We’ll go soon,” I whisper into her ear, causing her whole body to shiver as she lets out a sigh.
Grasping onto her waist, I place gentle kisses along the sensitive skin of her neck and it takes everything in me to rein in the heat I’ve started to unleash.
I place one last kiss on her shoulder before backing away and saying, “Come on, let’s go and sit by the firepit.”
She nods and I take ahold of her hand, walking her back through the house. I grab a bottle of wine on our way through the kitchen but I stop as we step out onto the patio, Amelia’s breath hitching as she gazes up at the sky. The colors of the sunset are streaming together and creating a picture-perfect scene.
“It’s a gorgeous view, isn’t it?”
I could sit out here every night for the rest of my life and never get bored, but it’s starting to look even better with Amelia standing beside me.
“It is,” she answers me, her voice merely a whisper.
“It’s partly what drew me into this place. The view is even more incredible at the lake, so I bought the land around it to build a house on.” I sigh happily. “I’ve always loved the outdoors.”
“I can see the appeal.” I tilt my head slightly, catching sight of her out of the corner of my eye. Her face is awash with peace, her chocolate-brown eyes shining with contentment.
“It really is beautiful,” I comment, not sure whether I’m talking about the view anymore.
She’s the kind of person I can see myself sharing everything with, and even though that thought should scare me this soon into the relationship, it doesn’t.
After getting a roaring fire going in the pit and settling down in the L-shaped wicker sofa with Amelia, I stare up at the sky, watching the sun go down. The stars starting to glimmer take me back to our first date at the planetarium. They shine bright, flickering and shimmering in the darkened sky—only this time it isn’t a show: it’s the real thing.
I’m so busy staring up at the stars looking like moon dust has been scattered in the sky I don’t realize she’s turned her head to face me until she clears her throat. I slowly tear my gaze away from the sky to look at her basked in moonlight, hitting off the soft features of her face in all the right ways.
“It’s such a nice night,” she says, followed by a slight shiver.
“I’ll go grab you a blanket.”
She smiles softly, sipping her wine as I run in and grab the first blanket I see in the living room before walking back out and draping it over her legs.
“Thank you.”
I sit down and lift my arm, coaxing her to lean into me. She does and I immediately wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“This is so relaxing,” she tells me. “I feel like I could fall asleep right here.”
“It is. I’d say this has been a successful second date.”
“Mmmhmm. It really has,” she replies sleepily.
We stay like that for a while, both of us soaking up the atmosphere and the beauty of the natural elements around us.
When my glass is empty, I bend down to pick up the bottle for another refill, moving my eyes from the flames roaring in the fire pit.
“Oh, crap!”
Her head snaps up at my gruff tone. “What?”
I run a palm down my face and hold up the bottle. “We’ve drank all the wine.”
She raises a brow, not understanding what the problem is. “So…”
“So… I’m now well over the limit for taking you home. I got caught up in the moment and didn’t even think about having to drive you back.”
“Ahhh.” She sits up from the comfy position she’s in. “It’s okay,” she says softly. “I can call a cab.”
I bite my bottom lip, my gaze drifting over to my house. “Or you could stay here… no strings attached. You can take one of the guest rooms.”
My gaze connects with hers and I feel like I made a huge mistake by offering when she doesn’t answer me. We agreed to take it slow, to let things happen how they’re supposed to and not rush anything, but I don’t want her taking a cab back to her place. It’s way too late.
But will having only a few walls between us be too much?
“I…” She finally starts, clearing her throat. “Yeah.” Nodding after it’s out of her mouth, almost as if she’s confirming it to the both of us. “That’d be great. I may need to borrow something to sleep in though.”
I blow out an audible breath. “I’m sure that could be arranged.” I pull her up into a standing position, leaving the glasses and wine bottle where they are as I lead her back into the house, closing the patio doors behind us.
Her gaze whips back toward the doors, doing a double take, her eyes widening. I frown, looking out the doors, not seeing anything, before I ask, “What’s up?”
She stares for another beat, almost as if she’s searching for something before shaking her head, pulling her gaze away and pushing a smile on her face. “Nothing, just thought I saw a rabbit.”
“Probably. They always come out at night.”
She nods again but there’s something in her eyes that has me titling my head. I want to ask her what it is, but when she closes her eyes and opens them back up, it’s gone. Did I imagine it?
We walk into the hallway and I subconsciously find myself taking her to the guest bedroom directly facing my room—or maybe it wasn’t so subconscious?
Opening the door and turning the light on, I face her. “I hope this is okay.”
She peeks inside. “It’s perfect.”
“Awesome. I’ll go and get you something to sleep in.” I walk over to my door before turning around. “You know where the bathroom is if you want a shower or anything. Towels are in the closet of your room.”
She nods and I have to fight myself to step away from her and grab a t-shirt from my closet. The way she was biting her lip and almost looking nervous is one of the reasons why I need to keep tonight platonic—unless she makes the first move, which I’m totally on board with.
On my way back into her room, I stop and watch as she trails her hand over the gray comforter on the bed Maya picked out before walking over to the window. She cups her hands around her eyes and leans toward it, her back tensing and her breath hitching as she steps back.
“Lia?” She jumps out of her skin, turning and nearly falling in her heels. I reach out and steady her. “Everything alright?”
She taps my arms playfully. “You scared the life out of me!”
I chuckle, staring into the depths of her eyes. As I do, her shoulders relax and the hand still on my arm slides up to my shoulder.
“Hi,” I stupidly say, throwing the t-shirt I’m holding onto the bed.
“Hi back,” she squeaks.
I move my hands to her hips, my fingers gripping her as I slam my lips down onto h
ers with the passion flowing through me—I’ve been waiting all night to do this. She’s so goddamn beautiful and her wrapping her arms around my neck has me wanting to direct us toward the bed.
Instead, as she opens up her mouth, I swipe my tongue along hers, relishing in the moan the movement elicits—a moan that speaks to the primal part of me, but for some ungodly reason, I find myself pulling back from her.
I drag my lips away and rest my forehead against hers, our chests heaving.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” she whispers and I’m assuming she’s talking about how it feels like we’ve never been apart, like we fit together perfectly—or at least that’s how I feel.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of that,” I say back. “But I need to say goodnight now before this turns into a strings-attached sleepover.”
She chuckles but neither of us step away for a beat until I place one final soft, closed mouth kiss on her lips and pull away completely, shaking my head and murmuring, “I’m going to regret this,” before walking toward the door.
“Goodnight,” she says when I’m about to cross over the threshold.
I spin around, the fire in my gaze trying to set her alight and I know I need to leave now. “Goodnight, Lia.”
She smiles wide as I close the door, keeping my eyes connected to hers until it finally clicks shut.
“Would you like some tea, Mr. Unicorn?” Izzie lifts her pink teapot, pouring the unicorn an imaginary cup of tea before turning her blue-eyed gaze to me. “Miss Amelia?”
Lifting the small, lavender cup and saucer, I extend them closer to her. “I’d love a cup of tea, please, Miss Izzie.”
I stare at the unicorn—one of Izzie’s birthday presents. My hand trails over my arm, remembering all of the secret touches from Nate at her party, the looks he would give me, the promises in their depths. I’ll never get enough of him.
Izzie leans over, a small cloth hanging over her forearm as she pours me a cup. When Izzie does tea parties, she goes all out, even wearing white gloves on her hands. Everyone is either Miss or Mr. She can be up here for hours at a time, setting up her table just right and making sure all of her “guests” are catered for.
Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 2) Page 17
