“Thank fuck,” I muttered and Shiloh giggled.
Not her husky laugh, not an amused chuckle, the woman giggled like she was happy.
My shoulders hunched and my head dropped forward while I soaked in every last second of the sound.
“I’m happy to finally meet someone else who doesn’t like it. I feel like sushi is trending and I’m left out because the thought of raw fish makes me gag.”
“Hates it,” I corrected. “My dislike can be categorized as hate.”
“Awesome. Then I can scratch that off my list of worries.”
Shiloh made a “phew” sound and I could picture her wiping her brow in mock relief.
“Why are you asking about fish?”
“Some of the guys were talking about going to LuLu’s after shift then hitting miniature golf. I was going to ask if you wanted to change our plans tonight and go out with them. But the only decent thing on the menu is fish. So if you hated fish I was gonna bag off and head home.”
My neck tensed and my eyes closed. A one-two punch to my gut that winded me yet it felt far from bad. As a matter of fact, it felt so fucking good as the oxygen left my lungs it scared the shit out of me.
I vaguely wondered if she knew what she was doing. The invite was a nice surprise, her wanting me to meet her friends—though she’d deny they were friends—a welcomed surprise. But it was more than that; she was putting herself out there in front of the men she worked with.
“Sure. I’ll meet you at your house and we’ll go from there.”
My response was met with silence.
“Shiloh?”
“Can we meet at your house?”
My gaze went to my key ring on my desk and I immediately spied the key to her front door. She hadn’t asked for it back and I had offered. The last three nights we’d been at her place. I liked that it was me who left. The ball was in my court how late I stayed and the first two nights I’d pushed that until she was yawning and I knew she was ready to fall asleep. Last night I’d only left when I did because she was called out.
Shiloh at my place meant she could leave when she wanted, as early as she wanted, and that didn’t fit into my plan.
Yet I didn’t deny her request.
“I’ll text you my address.”
“Great.”
I heard someone call her name and she sighed.
“Sorry. I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, baby, you will.”
Shiloh disconnected and I sat wondering what had brought on her sudden change. Then I sat there longer wondering if this was the warm feel-good breeze before the freeze-out.
Sunny Kent versus Killer Frost.
Polar opposites packed into one beautiful woman.
I’d be damn fortunate to come out on the other side unscathed.
12
I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and took a calming breath.
I was being ridiculous.
I lifted my now dry yet still clammy hand up and pressed Luke’s doorbell.
And as I waited for him to answer the door I realized I’d need more than a breath to stop my heart from pounding in my chest.
I wasn’t sure if my bout of nerves came from inviting Luke out with the guys or inviting myself over to his house.
For some reason, this seemed like a big step. I suppose him meeting my team was big—huge actually. I’d never brought a man around them—actually, I’d never brought anyone around them, male or female.
But going to his house felt bigger. Like I was stepping into his world instead of him being in mine. His personal space. And I’d invited myself over, which was kind of rude, and weird I’d even ask. But I was curious. I wanted to see where he lived. I wanted to see him move around in his space. I wanted to see his things.
My gaze took in his front yard and I was surprised to see neat, tidy shrubs lining his walk. Those shrubs continued into a mulched bed—no flowers just trimmed bushes—in front of his porch. Luke also had the greenest grass on his block. His house was the last one on the street in an established, older neighborhood. All of the houses were well-kept. Not huge two-story homes, but good-sized ranchers. Middle income, nice, kid-friendly, family homes.
I didn’t know why this surprised me but it did.
All too soon Luke opened the door. The first thing I noticed was his hair was wet and that tingle started. Only this time was better since I had firsthand knowledge of how awesome he looked naked. My second thought was it sucked he hadn’t waited and asked me to join him.
“Hey,” Luke greeted.
That was all he needed to say for the dam to break and my verbal vomit to spew all over his front porch.
“I’m nervous about being here. I’m scared you’re gonna meet the guys and I’m wondering if it’s too soon but it’s too late to back out without me catching shit at work since they know you’re coming. And I’m really sorry if inviting myself to your pad was rude.”
When I was done Luke did a slow blink then he smiled.
Yikes.
Luke was a good-looking man but when he smiled I felt the need to fan my face. Luckily I refrained from further embarrassing myself.
“Why don’t you come in?” he asked and stepped aside.
“Are you sure? I was rude—”
“Babe. Come in.”
I guessed he wasn’t mad at me for inviting myself over.
Good to know.
I stepped in and while he was closing the door I took in his house. One big open space—big living room, a dining room beyond that. To the back and left an open kitchen with a bar and kick-ass stools that separated the dining from the kitchen. A rectangle oak dinner table that sat six. A brown, slouchy leather sectional divided the dining and living rooms. A huge TV mounted on the wall, under it a handsome wood credenza devoid of clutter. And there was a hallway to the right.
It was not a pad, it was a home. Warm and inviting. Rich browns and taupes. No bold or bright accents.
Mellow. Like the man himself.
“Your place is nice,” I told him.
“Thanks.”
His lips twitched and I gave him squinty eyes.
“I’m giving you a compliment,” I told him.
“I know you are.”
“Then why do you look like you’re trying not to laugh at me?”
“Because you looked shocked I don’t live in a sty.”
Well, he kind of had me there. I was shocked but not because I thought he’d live like a pig. I was surprised he lived in what looked like a family home.
Then it hit me—I didn’t know him very well. Maybe he did have a family.
“Do you have kids?”
“Nope. No kids, never been married, never been engaged, never lived with a woman.”
I was fairly certain it made me a bitch but I was happy he didn’t have kids and he’d never been married, engaged, or lived with a woman.
“Do you have roommates?”
“Nope. But that’s not to say that Matt and or Logan don’t crash here if they’ve tied one on and can’t drive home.”
I’d met Matt and Logan in passing the times I’d been to Triple Canopy but I didn’t know either of them.
“So just you,” I lamely noted. “How many bedrooms?”