Page 17 of Conception
“Better than Pussy Galore, right?”
Her golden curls bounce as her shoulders shake with laughter. “I suppose you’re right. But rather than a Bond girl, couldn’t I be compared to Olivia Newton-John or Debbie Harry?”
“Can you sing?”
“Only in the shower or when drowned out by hundreds of other at a concert.”
An impulsive thought pops into my head. “Speaking of concerts, one of my dad’s golfing buddies gave him tickets for the Knoxville stop on Journey’s Departure Tour. It’s not until the end of August, so I don’t know where you’ll be by then, but if you want to go, one of the tickets has your name on it.”
Amelia’s eyes widen; then she blows out a breath. “As much as I love Steve Perry, I’m not sure I can accept. After all, you’re not looking for anything beyond a summer fling. The end of August might be pushing it.”
It’s a struggle to hold my groan back. “So you heard all that?”
She leans forward, bright-green eyes staring at me. “It’s not a big place, Knox. I could hear almost everything. Joe was right about one thing. I don’t usually flirt. Not my style. In summers past, you could usually find me with my nose stuck in a book or alongside Sunny, doing something scandalous. Her, of course. I just watched.”
My lips twitch and I think about how Clay reminded me that I’m out of practice. He wasn’t wrong. “Ah. Not usually a flirt. So is that what you’re doing with me?”
“Of course not. I’m just sucking on this straw because of my oral fixation.”
There goes my cock again. Without thinking, I take the straw from between her teeth and place it in my back pocket. “Sorry, babe, but you saying ‘oral fixation’ while this is between your lips is something I’m never going to forget.”
“So you need a memento?”
I lean forward, my lips nearly brushing her earlobe. “I need a lot more than that, but for now, I’ll settle for the straw and the vision of what you’ve been doing to it all night.”
Sunny interrupts the moment to drop the drinks off, and just as I’m about to pick them up for delivery, I have one last thought.
“Hey, speaking of Sandy, which one are you? The goody two-shoes who wears poodle skirts and cardigans, or the naughty one in leather pants, big hair, and high heels?”
She sucks down the rest of her drink just as Sunny declares it’s closing time. “Sorry, stud, but you’re going to have find that one out on your own.”
With a wink, she hops off her stool, hooks her purse over her shoulder, and heads behind the bar and through a back door, disappearing from sight.
A hand slaps me on the shoulder. I turn to see Joe grinning at me.
“Damn, dude. I’ve never seen her smile like that. Don’t worry. I’ll get her and Sunny home in one piece. See you ’round.”
I nod, because, yeah, if Sunny and Amelia are inseparable, he’ll definitely be seeing a lot of me.
As Clay and I walk back to the lake house, he’s serenading the night with his terrible rendition of Michael Jackson’s “Maria (You Were the Only One).”
“Clay, she’s not gone. She’s back at home waiting for you,” I remind him.
He stops and holds a hand on my shoulder. “She’s my sweet little sunflower. Without her…”
He hums the note, clearly trying to remember the rest of the lyrics.
“Without her, your life is through?”
He snaps his fingers. “Exactly! I miss her.”
“It’s been less than a day, Clay.”
He sighs. “Exactly,” he repeats. “You’ll understand one day, Knox. One day.”
I roll my eyes and let him continue until we’re back at the house and he plops down on the sofa. He’ll feel great in the morning. Leaving him be, I head down the hall to my room.
I place the napkin with her number and the straw on my nightstand. Joe wasn’t lying. I’ve already got plenty of ‘jackin’ material’ and I haven’t even seen the damn woman naked.
