Page 48 of That One Night
Grabbing his keys, he strode out of his little farmhouse, automatically looking to his left to make sure Frank’s shed was closed tight. That had been another chore – repairing the door, installing a new lock, and making sure that Frank was comfortable in there.
When he got to his gate he stopped, unsure whether he should go over and knock on her door. Emery hadn’t told him not to, but he knew her mom was high strung. He didn’t want to cause any more problems than she already had with that relationship.
Before he could make a decision the door opened and she walked out.
And his heart damn near missed a beat.
She was wearing a red silk dress, the bodice cut in a crossover that skimmed her chest, giving him a delicious hint of the curveshidden beneath it. The skirt was short and tight, with a slit on her thigh.
Her eyes met his and he could barely breathe. Her hair was glossy in the warm evening light, her dark waves tumbling over her shoulders. She curled her fingers around her black purse and walked down the steps. And he grinned, because even though she was dressed up to the damn nines, the woman was still wearing sneakers.
His eyes darkened as he strode across the road to open the gate for her. The smell of her perfume filled his senses. Floral but delicate. It made him want to ride a steed and win her hand.
“You’re gonna create mayhem in the Moonlight Bar looking like that,” he said, his voice thick.
A half-smile pulled at her lips. “Should I take that as a compliment?” she asked. She genuinely looked unsure.
Did she really not know how beautiful she was?
“Yes, you should. You look…” he let out a breath, shaking his head. Fuck, he couldn’t find the right words. He never could. He was a do-er, not a talker. “So damn good.”
Yeah, that wasn’t right. But her smile still widened, like she knew his words had a different meaning.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she replied softly.
Hendrix looked down at the dark jeans and black t-shirt he was wearing. The shirt was cotton, light, because it was still so damn hot outside.
But the truth was, he’d wanted to wear something she’d like. Wanted her to enjoy looking at him. He wasn’t a vain man, but he knew that heads usually turned when he walked into the bar.
He also knew that when they walked inside tonight, the heads wouldn’t be turning to look at him. And he was more than okay with that.
“We should go,” he murmured. “Before Sabrina sends out a search party.” He put his hand on the curve of her back, feelingthe warmth of her through the silk. This close, it was impossible not to think of kissing her.
She’s marrying another guy.
Taking another breath, he steered her toward the passenger side of his truck, helping her into the cab. Her legs looked so damn enticing as she crossed them once she was situated. Supple, warm. With the lightest of tans.
Closing the door, he took his time walking around to the driver’s side, needing it to center himself. Emery in cut-offs and a tank was one thing. Hell, her wearing barely nothing after skinny dipping was pretty good.
But seeing her like this? Dressed up so damn classy that he knew she was out of his league? That was something else all together.
He started the engine as soon as he climbed in, determined to make the drive as fast as he could. It felt dangerous to be alone with her like this. Dangerous to his self control and dangerous to her engagement.
He wasn’t stupid, even if he’d tried to make his cousin think he was oblivious. He knew when a woman was interested in him. Even if she shouldn’t be interested.
Especially then.
“Can I choose the music?” Emery asked as he pulled onto the farm lane.
“Go for it.”
She leaned in, the short sleeve of her dress riding up to reveal her toned arms. Her biceps brushed his as she pressed the button to search for another station, and it made his jaw tighten.
“Sorry,” she said, giving him a genuine smile. Like she thought she’d done something wrong.
“Not a problem.”
She chose a 70s soft rock station. Boston was playing. “More than a Feeling” blasted out of his stereo.
