If he only knew.
“Sorry.” I scrub my palms over my thighs, drying the sweat on my jeans. “Just thinking about work.”
He nods, turning back to the road, whistling along to some old rock song playing on the radio. I’ve been so distracted that I hadn’t even realized the music was on. It dawns on me he might’ve resorted to listening to it as a result of my stellar company, and I really start to feel bad. I mean, the man earned this date, and even let me choose the venue. The least I can do is be present.
From that point, I give a concentrated effort to at least appear that I’m paying attention while he makes small talk about the construction going on over at his place.
It’s not that I’m disinterested, per se. I’m just far too preoccupied by the overwhelming attraction I’m harboring for the man—an attraction that’s beginning to feel like a living, breathing entity between us, making it difficult to focus on anything but reigning in my reaction to it, lest I make a complete fool of myself.
“Great, so, tomorrow then?” His thumbs thump against the steering wheel to the beat of the music, jarring me from my thoughts. His boyish smile is warm enough to melt butter…and soak my panties.
“Tomorrow what?” All the agreeing I’ve been doing has apparently just backfired on me, as I have no idea what I’ve just committed to. Considering our history…banging against a dumpster, kissing in the crematory… There really is no telling.
“You and Miss Priss. Dinner at my place.” He grins. “To show you what I’m working on and let Prissy play with the pooch.”
“Uh,” I stammer, fiddling with the hem of my top while trying to think up a way out of the mess I’ve just landed myself in. Okay, so, I don’t actually want out. But involving my daughter any further in whatever this is between us has red flags shooting up all over the place.
“Sure…”
“I knew it,” he laughs. “I don’t know where you are, but it sure ain’t here with me.”
“Oh, I was with you, all right,” I mutter, closing the AC vents to keep the heat from blowing on my already flushed cheeks.
“Is that what this is about?” he asks, whipping into a spot in front of Willa’s Honky Tonk.
I catch my lower lip between my teeth as I gaze at his profile, the way his jaw ticks and the easy smile that moves across the lower half of his face as he maneuvers his beast of a truck between two others. He always looks like he’s having the time of his life when he drives this old thing.
Come to think of it, I can’t recall a time he hasn’t looked like he was enjoying himself. It’s incredibly appealing, his zest for life.
Resisting the urge to fan myself, I shift in my seat and swallow the lump building in the back of my throat.
“You gonna be all weird now cuz I kissed you?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and it’s all I can do not to jump him. Get a grip, woman.
Instead, I toy with the pendant on my necklace, sliding it back and forth along the silver chain. “I’m not trying to be.”
“We screwed against a trash bin, for crying out loud.” He shoves the gear shift up into park, twisting his entire body to face me. He just threw that out there so casually, without an ounce of mirth. “If we could get past that…” His gray-green eyes meet with mine, and I cease my fidgeting, completely entranced by the seriousness of his ruggedly handsome face. “It was a kiss.”
A kiss that, by my estimation, was far more intimate than some drunken fuck.
Then we were strangers looking for nothing more than a good time. But now? Now, I’m actually getting to know the man behind the six-pack abs and chiseled jaw, and finding that I like him—I like him a lot, actually. And so does my kid.
Wyatt could be the one…or our complete undoing. There’s no in between. If I decide to take a chance—to go all in—the result could be the family I’ve always dreamed of for me and Prissy or complete annihilation of what little faith in love I have left.
“You’re right,” I say, rather than reveal any of what I’m thinking. “I’m being silly.”
He stares at me for a beat before tipping his head, turning for his door, and exiting the cab.
I take a few deep breaths, adjusting the part in my hair in the visor mirror while waiting for him to come around to let me out. There’s a good chance he’s ruined me for all other men. I can’t imagine any other guy in this day and age will ever live up to the standards he’s setting.
Wyatt Landry, unfortunately for the women of today, is a dying breed, and I’m constantly fighting the urge to grab hold of him with both hands and see how far this thing might go.
Maybe it’s time I quit fighting?
“How was it?” he asks when my door swings open, holding out a hand for mine. “Scale of one to ten.” He waggles his brows suggestively. “Ten being orgasmic.”
I scoff, because I’m too flustered to speak.
“Come on…you have to have an answer, being it’s all you seem to think about.”
I give him my glariest glare as I step down into the gravel lot with his assistance.
He doesn’t even flinch. “Maybe you could use a refresher?” he offers, pinning me against the side of his truck with his chest pressed to mine. My heart starts beating double-time.
I lick my lips, practically panting for it and shake my head. “A three.”
“Bullshit.” The deep timbre of his voice rumbles against my temple, sending my blood rushing.
I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive I feel the tip of his tongue trail along the shell of my ear. My head thumps against the window, and I look up at his scruffy chin. Without thought, my hand follows my line of vision, and I’m running a thumb back and forth in that stubble, imagining the way the coarse hair would feel on other parts of my body…brushing along my hard nipples, scraping the delicate skin between my thighs. “Seven,” I amend, still taunting him.
My voice is pure gravel. My limbs, putty.
My breath heady with desire.
He dips his head, and I shut my eyes, every cell of my body springing to life with awareness. His warm, minty breath clouds what remains of my senses. All I want in this moment is to taste him. To feel him. To surrender all my inhibitions.
“Ten,” he says, before clasping my face between his massive hands and crashing his mouth to mine.
Without hesitation, my lips part, easily succumbing to his advance. I vaguely hear the moans of desperation sneaking out from the back of my own throat. With my toes curled snugly in my boots and my fingers fisted into the front of his shirt, I’m once again becoming lost in this man. Whether it be the delicate caress of his fingers, the gyration of his hips, or the warm whisper of his breath as his lips trail a path across my neck, his every move feels deliberate. Practiced. The man knows his way around a woman. If I had my wits, that would probably bother me, but as it stands, I can’t feel anything but appreciation for the skillful way he’s molding me to his will.
Calloused hands travel along my sides and over my hips before reaching around to cup my ass. He pulls me flush with his body, nipping at my lips before pulling back just a hair’s breadth. “That’s a ten,” he rasps before inclining my chin with the tip of his nose so I’m staring right at him. “Fight me.”