I laugh. Hard.
"Oh my gosh, it's so not a high end job," I correct him, slurping my milk shake and wishing I'd gotten a soda, "They just invented the job title to make me feel important."
Now Reagan's looking at me seriously, "So how long have you been with the company?"
Silently counting in my head I come up with the answer, "Four years?"
"So when they gave you this title, did it include more responsibility?"
I nod. "Oh yeah, I'm in charge of all the contractors in the area now. I have to deal directly with the pros, take care of all their purchasing and delivery, put up with a lot of chauvinist good ol' boy bullshit."
I shrug again.
"So that must come with a pretty good salary then, if you're putting up with all that. What's your degree in?"
This time I skip the shrug.
I feel my shoulders slump.
Reagan's really smart.
And funny.
And smokin' hot.
And he seems like he's really into me.
But he is way out of my league.
I guess this was the whole point of the pact-- to not waste time chasing guys that aren't going to stick around.
"Well, I only got my AA," I tell him, "It's in accounting. I'd love to go back and finish my Bachelor's in business finance but I can't afford it if I don't work full time and I can't manage the classes and homework at the same time if I do."
Reagan whistles long and low.
"Business finance? Damn girl, that's impressive."
I feel myself blushing.
"What are you going to do when you get your degree? Would you stay in Landsburg?"
"Well, if I ever finish school, yeah. I'd love to find something better than the lumber yard for sure but I don't want to leave town. Like I said, this is home."
"Yeah, Landsburg's a nice place," Reagan tells me, looking around at the mix of small businesses and homes surrounding us from the picnic benches on the Hut's out door dining deck, "It'd be a nice place to settle down and do the kid thing."
I try not admit how much I like hearing this guy say that.
"So, Spence is your little brother?" I cut back to where we were before Reagan got me sidetracked.
"Yup," he nods, turning back to look at me in that way that makes my stomach do flip flops again, "he did the college thing too, kid's crazy smart, he just needs to find his why I think."
Lamenting the end of my milkshake, I nod at what Reagan's telling me.
"What about you?" I ask him, "What did you study in college? How'd you end up in construction?"
Reagan laughs heartily.
He has the best smile.
With these really adorable dimples and perfect white teeth. And gorgeous blue eyes that crinkle up when he smiles. And this floppy blonde hair that's about two weeks over due for a trim so he keeps brushing it off his forehead with his hand.
He just fits in here and I wonder if he's serious about liking Landsburg enough to stay.
"I build shit," he tells me with a shake of his head that sends his hair flying out of the place he just pushed it back to, "I'm good with tools. Ya know?
"College isn't my thing. That's why I'm so proud of Spencer for going all the way with his degree. I just hate seeing him floundering like he is now.
"Spence is the kind of guy that needs something to ground him, you know? A lightning rod sorta to absorb all that extra mental energy he's got."
"So you're just here for the summer to help him build his van into one of those campers?" I ask.
I admit, I hate the idea that Reagan's only going to be here for a couple of months. It means there's no hope of us going anywhere.
Normally, I'd be all about a summer fling but after brunch last Sunday with the girls well...I guess that's an option I just opted out of.
Reagan
By the time Molly and I walk back to the lumberyard parking lot where we both left our cars, I'm already thinking about looking for a warehouse to rent.
I meant it when I said Landsburg would be nice place to settle down and do the kid thing and something about Molly has me thinking it might be a good time to get started on that.
Problem is, my business is back home and that's a long ways from Landsburg.
It's no sweat to move the operation up here, since I build tiny houses that are mostly on trailers, my clients come to me, but I need a shop that's going to be big enough.
I admit, I make Molly take the long way back to her car.
Walking around the sleepy little foothill town's business district, making her show me all the sites.
Watching the locals damn near break their necks as we walk down the sidewalk together, I can't help but puff up my chest with pride knowing all these guys that have known Molly their whole damn lives are hating me right now.
My hand naturally slips around hers as we walk and I like the way she just falls into step alongside me.
When I went to meet up with her when she got off work, I wasn't sure what kind of dinner I was going to be able to pull off that wouldn't end up feeling like a date.
It was still early, with plenty of light left in the day this time of year, and it's not like I gave her a chance to go home and get all dolled up for a night on the town. Plus, it's a week night, so I didn't want to keep her out too late.
And I promised to keep it casual.
She took the pony tail down and brushed out her hair and threw on a little bit more makeup than I remember her wearing this afternoon.
In just jeans and a t-shirt, Molly still looks like a million dollars.
She's about average height for a girl, with rocking curves that bring that t-shirt to life. Her hair is thick and shiny and a warm cinnamon color and every time she does her cute little shrugging thing, it moves like silk and I get a whiff of her shampoo.
Smells coconutty and I wanna bury my nose in it.
I wanna bury my nose in her.
Hell, I wanna bury more than my nose in her.
Molly makes my cock hard every time I even think about what those tits will look like when they're swinging free while she rides me.
And I've been thinking about that way more than is gentlemanly for sure.
She's a real home-spun country girl, the kind that wants a picket fence and all the neighborhood kids coming over for lemonade and play dates and doesn't think mini-vans are lame.
It's only taken two and a half hours to find out everything I need to know about her-- including that Molly's worth whatever it takes to get her thinking the same way I am.
Standing next to her car, I'm not ready to say good night yet.
I'll stand here and talk to her till she's has to clock back in tomorrow morning if she'd let me but she's got her keys in her hand and already has the car door open.
I know it's not cool to expect an invite to follow her home, but a guy can hope, can't he?
"Thanks for dinner," she says.
She's being kinda shy and I think it's so fucking cute. She wasn't having much trouble making eye contact with me earlier, but suddenly those pretty caramel eyes of hers keep dropping down and hiding under a set of thick lashes that don't need any help from mascara.
Maybe that's cuz I'm all up in her personal space. I practically have her pinned against her car, and believe me, I'm planning on closing the rest of the distance between us in three...two...one...
Less than half a step and I'm right up against her, tipping her head upward with one finger just under her chin.
Her eyes lock onto mine and I give her about a second to let me know if she doesn't want to kiss me.
Then I lay my lips on hers.
Real soft at first.
I want to go slow, take my time, feel how soft she is against me before coaxing her to open for me and feeling her tongue slip against mine.
Molly's hands slide up my waist and around my back, pulling me into her till I feel those sweet tits pressed up against my chest.
I've got one hand
cupping her face. I'm loving the soft curve of her cheek in my palm and all that thick, brown hair of hers falling over the back of my fingers.
My other hand is making a daring move, reaching down to get a feel of that ass.
Molly let's me trace her hip, allowing me to move my fingers from her waist and moving just enough to make it easy to get her ass filling up my palm.
This girl's got me on fire.
I'm sure she can feel how much I want her. My hard-on's in danger of spearing her right through the sweet little swell of her belly just above the button on her jeans.
It doesn't take long for us to go from that first tender kiss to full a full-on make out session.
Good thing the yard's closed for the night and there's no one around to see us out here dry humping against her car like teenagers.
I press my dick against her crotch and run my mouth down her chin, nipping at her throat gently while her hands grab at my ass.
Just when I'm about to suggest we take this somewhere private though, Molly's hands push gently on my shoulders.
"Reagan," she's practically panting and my name sounds so sexy when she says it in that breathless whisper that it's extra hard to let her push me away.
"We have to stop."
I swear she sounds like she's apologizing.
"Yeah, sure, OK." I sound just as out of breath as she does.
"Do you want to take this to your place?" I ask, moving in and stealing another kiss, "You're welcome to come home with me but Spence is crashing with me while we have his van torn up."
Nothing about the way she kisses me is convincing, but nevertheless, her hand pushes gently against my chest, insisting on putting space between us again.
"I can't," she says, her eyes dropping off mine again as she stands up and straightens her clothes.
"Oh, sorry. I just--"
I just felt like we had a connection and I went for it. Now I feel like a grade A douche. Obviously I misread things somewhere along the way.
"What?" Molly asks.
"It's just that I kinda felt like we were connecting. I didn't mean to push you for anything."
Molly's lips are swollen and bright pink from kissing and there's a little redness on her throat that reminds me I haven't shaved since this morning.
A soft blush spreads up from under the collar of her shirt and meets the whisker burn on its way to blending with the blush that's taken over her pretty face.
"It's not that," she says in a shy voice that sounds like she's about to share her biggest secret with me, "I would love to--" she coughs nervously, "--show you the house-- it's just that I kinda made a pact with my friends and I..."
Molly
This sounds so stupid.
I can't believe I'm about to tell the hottest guy in town that I can't sleep with him because I'm doing some stupid born-again virgin thing.
Parts of me are still screaming at me to shut the fuck up. Take him back to my place. Ride him like a rodeo bronco and lie my ass off when I see the girls again for brunch on Sunday.
No one should make a pact to give up sex after killing three pitchers of mimosas. I'm not even sure the girls were serious anyway.
The rest of me remembers I still have to get a present for Tory Bowman's stupid baby shower.
Even if the other girls weren't serious about the do-over pact-- I was.
I'd be lying to myself if I pretended I was all talk last weekend.
No matter how hot Reagan is or how great our evening has been-- or how cold the shower I'm going to have to take when I get home is going to be-- I know I'll feel like shit if I break my promise to my future husband over a guy who isn't even going to stay in town past the end of August.
No more flings.
Wait for the real deal.
"It's just that me and my girlfriends kinda made this pact," I explain, "we were talking about how we wished we could get a do over on some things."
Reagan backs up enough to leave some space between us, but not enough to make me think he's mad at me.
"Like what kind of things?" he asks.
"You're gonna think it's stupid," I say, not sure I want to admit it to him.
"Try me, Moll," he says, sounding way more understanding than he's probably going to actually be.
Here goes nothing, I guess.
"Like sex."
"Like how do you mean?"
"Like, I don't know, I guess we were talking about what if we'd waited, you know?"
I look up at him sheepishly, afraid to see his expression.
Surprisingly, Reagan doesn't look pissed. Or like he thinks I'm crazy or stupid.
He's still standing kinda close to me and he's got that cute little grin on his face but the look in his eyes is all respect.
"So you're a born again virgin?" he asks, not at all mocking me.
"Yeah, I guess that's what you call it. We all-- well, not Bailey, but she's just Bailey anyway-- we were talking about it and Sierra said she made the pact with herself months ago when she found out her sister was waiting and, I don't know, next thing you know we were all agreeing that we're going to wait till we meet the right guy."
"Like till you get married?" Reagan moves to join me in leaning on the side of my car.
"Not necessarily," I tell him, "Just for something serious. Not another fling with some guy who's not even going to be around next year."
I feel like that lays it out pretty clearly for him.
Even if Reagan could turn out to be something serious, he's only in town for the summer while he helps his brother.
People have fallen in love in less time than that, sure, but there doesn't seem much point in falling in love with Reagan.
We still have a ton of territory we haven't covered, but I know he's not planning on staying in Landsburg permanently and he knows I'm not planning on moving away.
So that settles it.
I'm going to thank him for dinner and a great time tonight and-- OK, I'm probably going to let him kiss me one more time because ohmygosh kissing Reagan is exactly the sort of thing that could convince me this do-over pact is the dumbest thing I've ever let my friends talk me into-- and then he's going to get in his truck and drive away and the next time I see him he'll probably be out with some other girl.
One that hasn't already been through too many false starts and broken hearts. One that thinks she's just having some fun with a summer fling and doesn't realize it's going to take all fall, winter, and next spring to get over him when he leaves town.
"That's pretty impressive," Reagan says after a long pause. "I respect that a lot."
We lean against the side of my car together while the sun begins a lazy descent toward the horizon and a cool breeze kicks up.
Reagan's close to me. His shoulder against mine.
The fact that my lips are still burning from the fire of his kiss is testing my resolve in a serious way. Even the casual brush of his shoulder against mine is enough contact to really scramble my brain.
"Thanks," I tell him, "I just thought I should tell you before, you know."
"Before I get my hopes up?"
Damn that grin is sexy.
I can feel myself blushing when he stands back up and looks down at me with a flirty little smirk on his sexy lips.
"Something like that, yeah," I admit shyly.
"Too late."
He leans in, his voice more serious as his lips hover near mine.
"My hopes are definitely up, Molly."
Then he kisses me again.
Soft. Warm. Meaningful.
With all the same chemistry between us that makes my entire body vibrate with electrical charge.
It's a deep and passionate kiss that's filled with all the same need as before but this kiss is different from the frenzied make out session we were having just before my confession.
This kiss isn't the sort of kiss that leads to more.
"I better let you go," Reagan whispers against my lips as our last kiss draws to
a close.
I nod dumbly.
"OK then." His dimples show again with the smile he gives me when he finally takes a step away.
"Yeah. OK. I guess I'll see you around then," I mumble awkwardly.
Because duh. Landsburg is small. I'm going to see him. But let's face it-- we won't be the same.
I try to convince myself I'm OK with that while I unlock my car and get inside while Reagan holds the door till I'm buckled in.
"Yeah you will," he assures me as I lower the window as he shuts the door for me. "You still owe me some wood."
Reagan
Damn. That girl is something.
Something like I've never come across before.
Watching her pull out of the parking lot, all I can think about is how bad I want to kiss her some more.
And, fuck yeah, I want to do a lot more than kiss her.
I want to get her naked and panting while I suck her tits. I want to spread her thighs and make her come undone for me. I want to watch her come for me.
Just the idea of Molly riding my cock with sweat dripping down her body and her thick hair plastered to her skin while her breasts bounce and sway over me gets my dick all riled up again and it takes some serious self control not to try to relieve some of that frustration right here in my truck in the lumber yard parking lot.
Speaking of self control-- damn!
Either Molly doesn't feel anywhere near the same chemistry with me as I do with her, or she is really committed to this do-over thing.
I'm not exactly a big ladies man, but I'm pretty sure the spark weren't just flying for me.
I don't think a girl has ever kissed me like that.
Come to think of it, I know no one's ever kissed me like that.
And I sure as hell haven't ever kissed a girl like that before.
That was-- wow.
So my girl is doing the born-again virgin thing. Huh. That's cool.
It's when I finally realize I keep referring to her as my girl in my head, I know everything has changed.
I'm grinning like a damn fool when I pull into the driveway of the little one bedroom house I rented for the summer.
Tomorrow I'm going to start looking for some shop space to rent out.
The Last First Date (The Do-Over Pact Book 1) Page 2
