His hands moved back around to my lower back, his fingertips under my jeans. “I want you to know that I never expected to—I mean, I didn’t drive you home thinking this would happen,” he said.
I chuckled. “And I didn’t expect to jump on you in my driveway,” I said. “So, we’re good.”
“Okay, so in lieu of going to the moon, then,” he said. “I’d really, really like to revisit this another time, not in a vehicle.” He watched his hands come out from under my clothes, travel up my body, and he sighed with desire as they finally reached my face. “If you would.”
Just sex.
Um, yes.
“Maybe in a bed, surrounded by snack food on both sides so we can indulge at any time?” I said.
He laughed heartily, and the goose bumps recommenced. “I sense that food is important to you.”
“Well, when I’m feeding you naked, I’m betting it’ll be kind of important to you, too,” I said.
“Mmm,” he said, his fingers flexing in my hair before they went on the move again. “Keep saying things like that and I might not care how old I am.”
I giggled. “See? Having space is important to you.”
“Only in the perspective of wanting plenty of room to undress you, inch by inch,” he said softly. “With my mouth. Until you’re naked and waiting to feed me.”
Holy fuck. My whole body reacted to that sentence. It was all I could do to hold back a shiver, and not because of any cold. The house was right there, warm and plenty spacious enough for anything he wanted to do. All I had to do was say come on. I just couldn’t, yet. Not in there, no matter what that asshole had done, or how much I really liked this guy’s naked and waiting idea.
“Whew,” I breathed. “Okay, you win that one.”
He glanced down between us. “Damn, I really need to stop thinking like that, or I’ll never leave,” he said.
“I know the feeling,” I said, flexing my shaking fingers. I leaned to my left to dismount—mentally shaking my head that I was dismounting—and basically fell over while simultaneously kicking the volume on his radio to ear-splitting.
“Jesus,” I said, when he turned it off, righted his seat, and we both chuckled in the dark.
“I’m really sorry about your home,” he said after a beat. “About all you’re having to deal with today.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Well, at least you helped end this day on a very good note.”
I heard him chuckle. “You’re gonna laugh, but this has been the best night I’ve had in—I don’t even know how long,” he said. “Seriously.”
I raised eyebrows he couldn’t see. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or say I was sorry, but I got it. The day sucked, the night might have started a little backwards, but I was having a hell of a time telling myself to get out of that truck.
“Back atcha, John Doe,” I said, leaning over to give him one last soft kiss on the lips.
His hands came up to cradle my head and prolong the kiss, filling my senses with the smell and taste of him, and my resolve started to fizzle for the eighteenth time.
“In lieu of the moon?” he asked against my mouth, his voice sexy with humor and the remnants of the last lust-driven moments.
Oh, this man. The moon. The stars. Mercury, Venus, and that other one that wasn’t a planet anymore. I’d meet this guy anywhere. This guy that I’d known for about five minutes. What the hell did that say about me?
I squeezed the hand that was on my right cheek, and turned my kiss inward to his palm.
“The moon,” I said, grinning.
“Looking forward to it,” he said. “Poppy.”
I chuckled and backed up before I could change my mind.
“I’m gonna go now,” I said. “While the rain has slacked up. And before my clothes decide to completely fall off.”
“Is that an option?” he asked.
“And I am stealing your jacket till next week,” I said, ignoring his question as I zipped up my pants and put my hand on the door handle. “I might even sleep in it.”
“In just my jacket?” he asked.
“Actually, probably not. I sleep in the buff. I can’t stand anything restricting me,” I said. “I walk around naked after I shower, too. Cool down naturally and let the air dry my skin.”
“You’re killing me.”
I smiled as I opened the door and stepped out. “Good night.”
“Text me that you made it inside safely,” he said.
Lord. I rolled my eyes and chuckled as I shut the door. “Good night,” I repeated.
I pulled the collar of his jacket up around my ears and jogged up the sidewalk and around the evil bushes to the front door. I went in and locked up behind me, turned on the kitchen light, and came back to peer out the living room window. Yep, still there.
“Seriously,” I said, laughing. I touched my phone awake and pulled up the number he’d called me from. “Okay dude, you win.”
I’m in. I’m safe, and about to get naked between my sheets, I texted.
I pulled his jacket off and pressed my nose against it. Good Lord, that smell could get me through the Apocalypse. I walked to my bedroom and laid it over a chair, dropping my clothes from my body where I stood, and climbing into my unmade bed with the crumpled sheets all cold from the air conditioner. I did give that jacket a second glance, but I didn’t want it to start smelling like me. It needed to stay all about him. My phone dinged, and I couldn’t grab it fast enough.
God help me, I’ll be hard for a week. But I’ll have good dreams anyway. Night.
God help me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I texted you last night to check on you,” Micah said as I got in her car the next morning and shut the door. “How are you feeling? Did you talk to your mom? Did you see Hot Guy?” She narrowed her eyes. “Why did that make you grin?”
“I went to bed early,” I said. “I’ll be fine. And I did talk to Mom after exhausting every other possible option.” I shook my head, the grin fading away. “I can’t believe what I’m having to do.”
“It’s a decent room,” she said.
I shot her a glare. “It’s a room. Do you remember living there?”
She sighed. “I do,” she said. “Do you remember selling me on it?”
“No kitchen,” I said. “No bathroom.”
“I know.”
I wrapped my arms around my head. “How did this become my life?”
My parents became landlords last summer, renovating the space above the florist shop into two apartments. Well—apartments of a sort. They were fully furnished two-room spaces with a living room and bedroom, a kitchenette area with a mini-fridge and microwave, and a bathroom down the hall. A bathroom to be shared with the tenant across the hall. It was basically a really nice, glorified dorm room. Above my parents’ business.
Because my life wasn’t sucking badly enough.
“It could be worse,” Micah said.
“I could be dead?” I said, my voice muffled into my arms. “Maimed? Have a horrible venereal disease given to me by my ex-husband and his floozy?”
“You could have to move back into your parents’ house,” she said.
Down came my arms. “Oh, dear God, kill me, maim me, give me gonorrhea.” I winced and glanced upward. “Just kidding,” I whispered.
“Just saying.”
“You’re right,” I said. “That would be worse.” I blew out a breath. “Okay, silver linings. I’m up for finding them.”
“Tell me about last night,” she said. “Was Hot Guy there?”
Everything warm flooded my system. “Oh my God, Micah.”
She gave me a side-eyed look. “What?”
“He’s—” I shook my head and sighed.
Even though I’d climbed into bed early, I barely slept. I cou
ldn’t. I was so wound up, and not just wound up, but my mind was seriously on ping-pong mode. From oh my God, what am I going to do to allllllll the good stuff on long loop. All night.
His laugh, his eyes, his way of being all that and down to earth at the same time. His kisses, his touch, how turned on he was, how turned on I was… How in one night—okay maybe two if you counted the five minutes from last week—but really in only about an hour and a half, I had fallen into serious like with an almost one-night stand.
Everything I swore I wouldn’t do. But just like, and just sex—almost. Nothing more. I couldn’t let there be more. The menu was perfect just like it was, all delicious and decadent with a side of sinful.
“He’s what?” she asked, wide-eyed. “Did you do the wild thing already?”
I blew out a breath. “Wild? Yes,” I said. “Thing—not quite. Um, I’ll need a ride by the Ford dealership on our way home. And then maybe a quick jaunt to Denning to get my car? Or maybe Drew can bring me.”
Micah pulled into the parking lot of what was the New Blue Grille, with its new and still unadorned building, and put her Mustang in park. “Okay, spill.”
I spilled.
All, or nearly all, of the yummy details, from the kiwi to the goodnight text, in probably less than a minute.
“And you jumped each other right there in your driveway?” she asked.
“We did.”
“Why didn’t you just go in the house and—”
“I couldn’t,” I said. “It was just too weird to think about doing that there. Although I should have as a final goodbye.”
“Oh Lord, girl,” she said, chuckling as three gorgeous males walked out of the building with a small but mighty brunette woman. Nick, Leo, Bash Anderson, and Allie Greene strolled toward the car. “What have you been doing? Going to hotels or more mugging in back seats?”
I looked out the window. “I haven’t—actually.”
“Haven’t what?”
“Done anything?” I said, looking back at her with a resigned smile.
Her eyebrows raised, but her response was delayed by a big hand motioning for her to roll down her window. She complied, and Leo, the biggest of the pretties, leaned in.
“Decided to come hang out in the parking lot?” he asked, as Micah smiled and dropped a kiss on his lips.
“Isn’t that called loitering?” Allie said, leaning an elbow on Leo’s shoulder.
“Or prostitution,” Nick said, leaning his head into the line of sight.
“Yep, y’all figured us out,” Micah said. “We’re hooking up for some extra cash.”
“Well, I have to get back to work,” Bash said, planting a kiss on Allie’s cheek and waving at us. “Hook up on the sly, will you? The mayor doesn’t need to know these things.”
I laughed. “Will do, Mayor A.”
“Lanie told me what you decided on for paint this morning,” Micah said. “I’m stopping to pick it up on our way back from Cherrydale, and I’ll be here with everything later this afternoon.”
“Take a breath,” Allie said, elbowing Leo out of the way as if he were a kid and not three times her size. “There’s not a rush.”
“Allie, y’all lose money every day, and it’s been eight months,” Micah said. “Don’t think I don’t know that. And it’s so close to reopening.”
Allie nodded, and I saw the weary hope in her smile. “It’s getting there,” she said. “Another month, probably, to get everything up to code, and then we’ll be ready.” She leaned in. “Of which maybe three days of that is painting, so—take a breath.”
Micah sighed. “I just—”
Allie rested a hand on her arm. “I know.”
Micah nodded and looked away, blinking hard. “Okay. Well, anyway, I’m still picking up everything today. We’re gonna head to the farm.”
“I think Bash and I are going to Rojo’s tonight,” Allie said. “Maybe Carmen too—”
“Nope, she and Sully are out of town, remember?” Nick said. “They won’t be back till next week.”
Allie sighed and tucked errant hairs behind her ears. “No, I didn’t remember. My brain can’t hold much more.”
“Which is why I’m coming to paint,” Micah said, wide-eyed and stubborn.
“Which is why I need a night of relaxing,” Allie said, matching her expression and laughing. “The guys have been cooking something up, so I figured I’d tailgate on their party. If you come, I don’t look so needy.”
“I’m working,” Leo said, referring to the small detail that he would already be there, bartending like a Greek god with mixer cups. Okay, maybe that was just my perception. Probably Micah’s, too. He shuffled on his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “But I can make sure you’re fed,” he added, leaning over with a mischievous grin.
“Sounds good,” Micah said. “Hey, what if I invite my brothers? My little brother is in town and driving Thatcher crazy, it would be good to air them out a little.”
“Do it!” Allie said, slapping her hand on the window ledge. “Bring Drew, too, if she isn’t busy. I haven’t seen her in a while. See you then!”
“Well, I’ll see you—” Micah began.
“Tonight,” Allie reiterated.
Micah sighed and laughed. “Fine.”
“Be careful,” Leo said, his presence filling the window again. “I love you.”
It was my turn to look away as the intimacy between them filled the car. It had been a long time since I had that. Felt that. Even married to Bart, we’d lost that somewhere.
I missed it.
And I immediately wanted to spit that thought out on the pavement.
“So,” Micah said as her man extricated himself from her lips and we started moving again. “Back to what we were talking about.”
Thank God. “Which was?”
“You not having sex,” she said.
I nodded. “Ah.”
“What about the guy from that club in Goldworth? Ben, I think?”
“Kissed me goodnight by my car,” I said. “On my cheek.”
“Chad?”
“We had dinner and I skipped out when I went to the bathroom,” I said.
“Geez,” she said. “And—”
“Anyone else, I lied or made them up,” I said, holding up a hand. “I know. I rot.”
“But why, Gabi?” she asked. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I know,” I said, raking my hair back. “But I guess I thought I needed to follow up all that sex only talk with some action.”
“You weren’t ready,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“And then this guy,” I said, breathily.
“Came along when you were ready,” she said, gesturing to me.
“Am I?” I asked, my voice going up a little too high. “Because I’m not some big catch here. I mean I’m baggage times a million and not thinking straight. My world has been yanked out from under me three times this year, and two of them yesterday. I’m not sure of anything. But one touch—hell, one look—and suddenly my body was like sign me up! Then we were talking, and laughing…”
Micah smirked. “Sex doesn’t care about baggage, Gabi. But it sounds like more than just your body is interested.”
I covered my face with my hands. “This is so crazy.” I peeked through my fingers. “He’s so—I don’t know. I mean yes, Micah, he could have had me in that truck. As far as the physical goes, I don’t care how difficult it would have been to get naked enough, if he’d kept going, I’d have ridden him like a prize stallion.”
I’d heard the rest of what she said, but I chose to ignore it. Yeah, maybe, another time and place and no humiliating life events, and possibly that smile and wicked gaze and laugh would kick me in the heart and make me want for something awesome. This, however, was not that time
. This was no-strings world for me, and I had to be happy with the potential to bang a really hot man who wanted to bang me back. In a bed surrounded by food.
I could think of worse things.
She laughed out loud. “It’s been a long time, Gabi,” she said. “You’re allowed to be horny.”
“That’s the thing,” I said, dropping my hands back into my lap. “I really thought it would be weird for another man to touch me. To kiss someone other than Bart after all these years.” I glanced at her sideways. “Even after what he did, I just couldn’t imagine it. Every guy I talked to or went out with, I’d sit there thinking about it and it was like pondering a salad over ice cream.”
“Bart was ice cream?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “Not even close. But I’m saying no one brought my interest level up past salad.” I twisted in my seat to look at her. “I need more than salad.”
“Well, yeah,” she said, quirking an eyebrow.
“I want someone to vault past salad, past the entrée, past the sexy veggies, past even the cheap ice cream you pump yourself with the drizzle of caramel,” I said.
Micah nodded. “You want crème brûlée,” she said.
I gasped and widened my eyes. “I want crème brûlée.”
“And Hot Guy?” she asked.
“Wears it like a second skin,” I said, making her giggle. “Seriously, he’s—he’s easy. He makes me laugh. He’s easy to talk to. He smells delicious, and yes, I still have his damn jacket and I smelled it this morning and oh my God,” I said, closing my eyes. “I’m not even kidding when I say my clothes want to throw themselves off when he kisses me.”
She gave me a sideways grin. “You are off the rails, my friend.”
“I’m off the friggin’ planet,” I said. “I don’t know how I’m gonna wait a week.”
Micah smirked. “You like him.”
“I can’t like him,” I whispered, frowning at her.
She giggled. “But you do. You like him like him.”
“Are we twelve now?”
“Gabi and Hot Guy sitting in a tree…” she sang.
“You’re insane,” I said, laughing in spite of myself. “No. No trees. I don’t do that. I can’t do that. And I’ve known him for all of like thirty seconds, so how much sense does that make?”
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