While the clerk finalizes my request, I glance at my phone, hoping to find a message from Sophie. Earlier, I asked her what she was wearing for the ball, and she sent me a picture of something red. I have no idea if it’s from her dress for tonight or what she was wearing at the time. The rest of my pleading messages went unanswered, which I’m okay with. I know she spent the afternoon with Ellie, getting her hair and nails done. I told my sister to make sure Sophie went all out. If I have my say, every woman will be jealous of her and every man of me, especially the man who thought he’d have it better with his dental hygienist.
Even though I’ve been here for ten minutes, my impatience is growing. I hate being late, even if it’s only a few minutes. I told Sophie I would be there at six to pick her up and I’m an hour plus away from her. Of course, I could’ve rented a Mustang or something similar, but no, I wanted Sophie to show up in style, to turn heads, and only a Lambo will do that.
Finally, the sweet sound of a printer echoes in the small office. The clerk slides a pen toward me, and I happily pick it up. She goes over every part of the contract, the extra insurance which I opt for, and when the car is due back. I initial, sign and give her a pint of my blood in the form of a credit card and a four-digit expense, which is worth every single penny. Once the paperwork is signed, I’m told to follow the agent out to the car.
We wind through the parking lot until we come to a large carport, where sitting pretty is the yellow sports car. Just looking at it gives me a fucking boner. The clerk presses the key fob and the door opens.
“Go ahead and sit down, I’ll show you how to operate the car.”
I do as she says and melt into the fine Italian leather. Sweet baby, I’m in love. There’s no way I could afford to own one, not after I blew my savings on my dream home, but for the next twenty-four hours, I’m going to drive this car until I can’t see straight.
The agent goes over everything, and honestly, I’m so enamored with this fine piece of machinery, I hear nothing she says. Yeah, I’m going to need a car like this in the future.
Once everything is set, she hands me the fob and sort of lingers around the car. Her hand is on the roof, preventing me from shutting the door and her hip is jutted out, totally flirting. I reach for the door and give her a smile. “My wife is waiting,” I tell her, sending the message loudly.
“She’s a lucky woman,” she replies, sounding disappointed.
“She deserves the best.”
The clerk steps away, allowing me to shut the door. I drive slowly out of the lot and through the streets until I’m on the freeway, where I tap the accelerator and let the car do half of what I know it can. This is a car you take out on the open road, where you don’t have to worry about police officers pulling you over and other people trying to cut you off, because there’s always that one guy who thinks it’s funny when he pulls in front of you, trying to slow you down.
I make it back to town, in record time, thanks to my newly adopted speed racer lifestyle. I love owning a Wrangler but going seventy-five in a Jeep is like going thirty in a Lambo. When I get to Sophie’s, I realize my one mistake—speed bumps. I have no choice but to park the car on the street and walk through her complex. Of course, her neighbors are outside, staring.
When I get to Sophie’s door, I pause before knocking. I questioned whether I should’ve brought her flowers or went totally Pretty Woman and brought her a dazzling necklace of some sort, something she can show off all night. The car is only good for when we pull up and all eyes are on who is getting out but is this enough? I raise my hand to knock but the door flies open, and I’m standing there, taking in every single inch of the woman in front of me. I don’t know where to look first. Her shoulders are bare, and the straps of her dress direct my eyes to her breasts, which are perfectly cupped by the fabric of her red dress. My eyes travel down until they land on the thigh high slit and I’m forced to swallow hard. I’m hoping to take everything off of her at the end of the night.
“Holy fuck,” I mutter as I try to gain some form of composure. I thought I had a hard on from the car, but no—Sophie is hot and sexy as hell. “Holy fuck,” I say again because it’s the only statement my mind can formulate.
“Do I look okay?”
“Okay doesn’t even belong in the vocabulary of how you look, Sophie.” I reach for her and place my hand on her hip and kiss her lightly on the cheek. “You’re fucking gorgeous,” I whisper in her ear.
Her hand goes to my chest and I feel her cheeks rise. I know she’s smiling because of me. “You make a tuxedo look sexy, Tanner.”
I step back and look at her again. Her long hair is pulled up, exposing every inch of her tanned skin. I don’t care that she’s my sister’s best friend, I want to be with this woman in every sense of the word.
“I have a surprise for you.” I take her hand and tug her slightly. She steps out and closes the door behind us. Together, we walk through the parking lot and the people who were staring earlier are now gawking, even the men. All I can think is, I’m a lucky fucking bastard to have this gorgeous woman on my arm tonight.
We walk toward the car and when the door opens, thanks to the fob in my pocket, she gasps. “You did not.”
“Oh, I did.”
“Tanner, this is too much.”
“Says who?” I hold her hand and help her into the car. I lean down when she’s seated and say, “You need to make a grand entrance and I’m here to help you with this.” I kiss her again on the cheek, wishing like hell we were in her apartment or my house, taking our clothes off. I rush to the other side and get in. The motor purrs and we take off. In between shifting, I place my hand on her bare leg, enjoying the feel of her skin against the palm of my hand. I’m desperate to know what she’s wearing underneath, but don’t want to be crass and ask her. Mostly because if I know she has nothing on or confirms she’s wearing a thong I can’t be held responsible for my reaction.
We pull up to the Governor’s mansion and as I suspected, there are cameras everywhere. The doors open and I hand the valet my key fob before I rush to the other side and push the other valet out of the way. I’m the only one helping Sophie out of the car. I have no idea who Warren is, but by the look of the guy who arrived seconds before us, he’s standing in front of us, watching our every move.
“Fucking gorgeous,” I mutter when she stands tall. Cameras flash, and I’m sure when the pictures come out, they’ll all show me looking at Sophie instead of the crowd, and I’m more than okay with this.
Inside, Sophie gives her name to the attendant and we’re shown to our table. “How do we feel if your douche bag is at our table?” I ask her.
“Not ideal, but whatever. I’m happy you’re with me tonight, Tanner.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Soph.”
Once we know where we are sitting, we head to the bar. It’s time to mingle and Sophie is the best, introducing me to the movers and shakers of Raleigh. With her on my arm, I talk about my firm, my recent move back, and what my pipeline looks like. The Richie Riches ask if I’m interested in any “on the side work” which makes me chuckle because I don’t know one person who doesn’t hustle with side jobs.