Page 80 of Back in the Saddle

“You really want a kiss, don’t you?” he whispered, eyes aimed at my lips.

“Yes,” I whispered back, eyes aimed to his.

His head was descending.

I was rolling up on my toes.

And his doorbell chimed.

“Fuckingshit,” he bit out. He kissed my nose again and said, “Hold that thought.”

He let me go and walked to the door.

There was a line of windows at the top, I couldn’t see outside from my angle, but I saw his entire body language change before he opened it.

“Jesus Christ,” he said.

“I could see you through the door,” a woman replied.

“Then why’d you ring the damned bell?” he asked. Before she answered, he said, “Strike that. I don’t give a shit. I’m not doing this, Savannah.”

Oh fuck.

“Who is she?” his ex-wife asked.

“Go,” Eric said as answer.

“You’re not answering my texts.”

“Take a hint.”

“I leave town tomorrow night, and we need to talk.”

“Did you hear me say I’m not doing this?”

Eric made a move to shut the door, and she snapped, “Don’t you shut that door on me, Eric!”

He shut the door on her.

She knocked on it.

Loudly.

He came back to me and started scooping ice cream.

I waited for another knock. There wasn’t one, but now I could see the top of a brunette’s head in the window because she got close. And not only that, her eyes were aimed at us in the kitchen.

Yikes.

“Uh…” I didn’t quite start.

“Don’t,” Eric grunted.

He finished doling out the entire quart, put a spoon in each bowl, handed one to me, took the other, and grabbed my hand.

He then walked me down to the very end of the longest hall I’d ever traversed, where there was a massive bedroom that had a seating area at the front, opened doors to a dreamy walk-in closet, and a double wide opening to an even dreamier bathroom with a soaking tub being the star of the show, this set in front of a glass block wall.

He didn’t take me to the bathroom or the handsome couch by the fireplace at the front of the massive room.

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