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Authors: Rachael Wade
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he goes to reach for the door knob. “Hey, Ryder, what are you up to tonight? Anything?” My plan to call Brad this morning to ask if he’d come with me to the festival tonight just got tossed out the window.
“Tonight?” he stills, brushing his palm over his cheek. My eyes hone in on the light shadow there. He’s handsome in a rugged way, like the tree on his arm. A clean shave would probably look unnatural on him. “I’m free, actually. Why, you have plans to get some more ink?” His crooked grin appears, coaxing those dimples out from wherever they’ve been hiding. I’m happy to have them back.
“No, but I do have plans to eat a ton of cotton candy and as many funnel cakes as possible.”
His smile brightens, bringing light to his whole face. “You’re going to the holiday festival, I take it.”
“Busted.”
“What time?”
“Around 8 tonight. I’m meeting up with someone from work. You wanna join?” As I watch a glimmer of interest appear in his eyes, I can’t help but wonder if he knows me. If he’s a local, there’s a good chance he does. Most of the women know me. The men know they know, and it hasn’t stopped them from trying their luck at least once.
Suddenly, I feel like playing coy, although I get the faint impression that he sees straight through my act. “I mean, unless you have a girlfriend or something…” I can’t stop the mischievous smile that springs up on my lips. Why would I want to? It’s too much fun.
“Ha,” he huffs, his lashes lowering as he looks down at his shoes, “you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Really? No girl at home?”
“Nah. She couldn’t deal with my gypsy ways and modest income. New York business men with cozy 401ks were more her style.”
“Sorry to hear.” No, I wasn’t.
“Don’t be,” he shrugs, moving to lean against the door frame. “You know what they say. When one door closes…”
I smile playfully.
“What about you?” His eyes narrow and his brow creases as he smirks. “You’re not hiding a man in the oven or anything, are you?”
“I’m free as a bird,” I answer with no hesitation at all.
“That’s…interesting.”
I feel my shoulder muscles tighten. Maybe he knows exactly who I am. Elise Duchamp, the notorious, antisocial home wrecker. “Why do you say that?”
He focuses on the doorframe, picking at the beveled wood. “For one, you’re hard to miss, with that beautiful body and all. Most men try and lock that sort of package down pretty damn quick. But you know that already, don’t you?” His gaze lifts to mine again, rooting me to the carpet.
I expect my muscles to relax, but they don’t. They tighten further, and the next question I ask is crucial. I’m desperate to hear his response before I’ve even asked it. “And for two?”
“Well, for two, you’re good company.”
“Good company?” I blink, not sure what to make of that. What do I make of that?
“Yeah, good company. I like talking to you. You’re down-to-earth. Open. I like that.”
“You do?”
He lets out a laugh, and it’s husky and hearty. It’s a warmth-inducing, toe-curling sound. “Uh…yeah, yeah I do. But I bet you know that already, too.”
I race to cover up my genuine surprise, playing what I play best—the cool façade. “Maybe a little.” I grin up at him, subtly arching my back to draw his attention to my breasts.
He takes the bait.
Licking his lips, he breaks the stare from my cleavage and opens the front door. “And modest, too.” He locks eyes with me for another second, letting me know he’s on to my game. “Okay, so… 8 tonight?”
“Yup. We’re meeting in front of Stella’s. Do you know the place? The retro diner down on the waterfront?”
“Yeah, I know the place. Never eaten there before, but I see it when I drive down that way.”
“Cool. See you tonight.”
“Later.”
I close the door behind him and slump against it. Something strange unfurls in the pit of my stomach.
“Tonight?” he stills, brushing his palm over his cheek. My eyes hone in on the light shadow there. He’s handsome in a rugged way, like the tree on his arm. A clean shave would probably look unnatural on him. “I’m free, actually. Why, you have plans to get some more ink?” His crooked grin appears, coaxing those dimples out from wherever they’ve been hiding. I’m happy to have them back.
“No, but I do have plans to eat a ton of cotton candy and as many funnel cakes as possible.”
His smile brightens, bringing light to his whole face. “You’re going to the holiday festival, I take it.”
“Busted.”
“What time?”
“Around 8 tonight. I’m meeting up with someone from work. You wanna join?” As I watch a glimmer of interest appear in his eyes, I can’t help but wonder if he knows me. If he’s a local, there’s a good chance he does. Most of the women know me. The men know they know, and it hasn’t stopped them from trying their luck at least once.
Suddenly, I feel like playing coy, although I get the faint impression that he sees straight through my act. “I mean, unless you have a girlfriend or something…” I can’t stop the mischievous smile that springs up on my lips. Why would I want to? It’s too much fun.
“Ha,” he huffs, his lashes lowering as he looks down at his shoes, “you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Really? No girl at home?”
“Nah. She couldn’t deal with my gypsy ways and modest income. New York business men with cozy 401ks were more her style.”
“Sorry to hear.” No, I wasn’t.
“Don’t be,” he shrugs, moving to lean against the door frame. “You know what they say. When one door closes…”
I smile playfully.
“What about you?” His eyes narrow and his brow creases as he smirks. “You’re not hiding a man in the oven or anything, are you?”
“I’m free as a bird,” I answer with no hesitation at all.
“That’s…interesting.”
I feel my shoulder muscles tighten. Maybe he knows exactly who I am. Elise Duchamp, the notorious, antisocial home wrecker. “Why do you say that?”
He focuses on the doorframe, picking at the beveled wood. “For one, you’re hard to miss, with that beautiful body and all. Most men try and lock that sort of package down pretty damn quick. But you know that already, don’t you?” His gaze lifts to mine again, rooting me to the carpet.
I expect my muscles to relax, but they don’t. They tighten further, and the next question I ask is crucial. I’m desperate to hear his response before I’ve even asked it. “And for two?”
“Well, for two, you’re good company.”
“Good company?” I blink, not sure what to make of that. What do I make of that?
“Yeah, good company. I like talking to you. You’re down-to-earth. Open. I like that.”
“You do?”
He lets out a laugh, and it’s husky and hearty. It’s a warmth-inducing, toe-curling sound. “Uh…yeah, yeah I do. But I bet you know that already, too.”
I race to cover up my genuine surprise, playing what I play best—the cool façade. “Maybe a little.” I grin up at him, subtly arching my back to draw his attention to my breasts.
He takes the bait.
Licking his lips, he breaks the stare from my cleavage and opens the front door. “And modest, too.” He locks eyes with me for another second, letting me know he’s on to my game. “Okay, so… 8 tonight?”
“Yup. We’re meeting in front of Stella’s. Do you know the place? The retro diner down on the waterfront?”
“Yeah, I know the place. Never eaten there before, but I see it when I drive down that way.”
“Cool. See you tonight.”
“Later.”
I close the door behind him and slump against it. Something strange unfurls in the pit of my stomach.
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