Page 59 of Grit
There’d been the Fourth of July swimming party a couple of years ago that they’d both been invited to. Cary had nearly had to leave because his fortysomething body suddenly decided he was a teenager when he saw Melissa in a bathing suit. He’d ended up sitting at the outdoor bar the entire night, trying to ignore her completely.
And now she was sitting next to him in his truck, dressed like a goddess. Wearing makeup of all things.
“You look fucking amazing.” He cleared his throat. “Did I already say that?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “But thanks again. You look great too.”
He was wearing dress pants and a fitted grey button-down. He’d put on more muscle climbing this summer, and the shirt felt a little tight in the shoulders. “Does this shirt look too tight? I haven’t bought dress clothes in a while.”
She shook her head. “It’s really not. It looks… good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure.”
“Okay.” He swallowed hard when he caught another glimpse of her legs as they passed under a streetlight while going through town. “So, Café Georgette?”
“Did you make a reservation?” She winced. “Shit. I didn’t think about that. We might need a reservation on a Saturday night. I’ve only ever been for lunch, so—”
“Relax. I made a reservation.” He reached across the cab and took her hand, playing with the fingers before she could start to worry them. “As soon as you told me, I called. We’re good.”
Her fingers stilled. “Oh. Thanks.”
“I’m taking you out. The least I can do is make a phone call.” He grinned. “This isn’t nearly as elaborate as Jeremy and Tayla’s first date. Did you hear about that?”
“No. What did he do?”
Cary recounted everything he’d heard about the world’s most elaborate lakeside picnic his climbing partner had pulled off last spring. It had worked. He’d convinced the city girl to stay in Metlin and give him a shot.
“You know”—he released her hand so he could adjust the air conditioner in the truck, then he picked it up again—“I probably shouldn’t be telling you about the over-the-top exploits of my friends when I’m just taking you out to dinner, which is the least imaginative first date ever.”
“Counterargument: the lake would be dry and dusty right now. Also, any meal I don’t have to cook is the height of luxury. Also also, I don’t have to do dishes tonight either.” She smiled. “Dinner is great.”
“Good.”
She shifted her legs and he bit his lip. Fuck. How was he going to make it through an entire meal in public this way?
Acting on impulse, he pulled the truck over on the side of the road near a small grove of mandarins.
“What’s up? Did you forget something?”
“Yeah.” He flipped up the center console on the truck, slid across the cab, and slid his arm behind her neck. “Forgot to kiss you hello.”
“Oh right.” The corner of her lips turned up and he took it as an invitation, angling his mouth over hers as he pulled her closer. His hand ran from her waist, over the soft curve of her hip, to the sliver of skin just above her knees. He pulled away from her mouth a fraction. “Have I told you I love your legs?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was breathless.
Praise the god of skinny black dresses, she crossed her legs and hitched the right one over his knee, placing one leg within reach. He ran his hand over the soft skin, down the muscled calf, and teased the sensitive skin at her ankle with the lightest touch.
“Fuck.” He breathed out. “So good.”
Her fingers curled into the muscle at the top of his shoulder. “Oh my God,sogood.”
Cary nudged her chin up so he could put his mouth on her neck. “You smell amazing.”
“You smell…” Her voice was high. “…different.”
He pulled back. “What?”
