Page 23 of Last First Love
"You mean all these big, hard tacos?" She giggles. "I love having your big, hot hard taco in my mouth, Daniels."
Oh shit. She's doing that thing again, where she gives off this innocent princess in a tower sort of vibe but literally every word she says sounds like it's dripping in filthy innuendo. I can't really tell if she's saying this kind of stuff to mess with me or if what she's saying isn't nearly as dirty as I'd like for it to be.
But either way, my dick and I have a very definite opinion about the best way of dealing with pretty Lily and her naughty mouth. I keep reminding him that's not why we're here, but Daniels Junior isn’t listening. She's so freaking pretty and I'd like it to be why I'm here. But it's well past time for me to quit treading these dangerous waters and focus on Lily and what she wants.
I owe her at least that much after the way I upset her earlier, and there's that little voice in the back of my mind that says that if I can be a good guy for her now, maybe she'll let me kiss her again. And again.
I finally remember to close my mouth and quit giving her the dazed look that comes over my face every time she says something that can be taken in a sexually suggestive manner. "Um, what? Were you saying something about your mouth?"
I know I sound like an idiot, but it's better than sounding like a jerk. I can totally work with her thinking I'm an idiot. I mean, I sort of have the market cornered on cute, harmless idiocy.
She laughs again, a bigger noisier sound that I love hearing. It makes my throat ache hearing her sound so damn happy and knowing that I'm the reason why. I could certainly get used to being the man who makes Lily laugh.
"We can talk some more about my mouth later," she purrs. And apparently, I get to spend this entire meal with blueballs. Great.
Then she takes a bite of food and actually moans at the taste, the sound shooting straight to my already aching dick. Good lord. This woman is only eating her dinner and she's got me on the very edge of losing control in a way that I haven't since I was a much younger, inexperienced man.
I'm wracking my brain to come up with some topics of conversation that are innocent enough for our taco picnic, but I've never been good at small talk. I'm good at jokes, especially dirty ones, and I'm occasionally good at serious talks but only when they're really deeply necessary, like that time Abernathy almost screwed up everything with Darcy. Man is he lucky I'm his friend.
"Oh, did I tell you that Abernathy asked me to be the best man at his wedding?" Surely that's a safe topic of conversation. I'm definitely smart enough to leave out the part where I asked him to make sure Darcy picked a hot bridesmaid for me to bang because I'm not completely stupid, no matter what people sometimes think.
But for some reason, she's dropped her food on her plate and is giving me a look that is a cross between panic and complete and total meltdown. Is there something wrong with me being in Abernathy and Darcy's wedding? I'd better ask her right now before I say anything else stupid and she shuts down again. I don't think I have two entire grand gestures in me.
Okay, I can totally handle this situation like a pro. It's got to be okay to just ask her, right? "Hey, is something wrong?" I pause and wait for a few excruciating seconds. "Was it something about me, the wedding, or the tacos?"
She's already shaking her head, thank goodness. "No, no. The tacos are magnificent. Everybody knows that Mi Ranchito is the best." But then she keeps shaking her head at me, and now I’m starting to worry.
"Okay. Well, was it something I did or said?" I rake my fingers through my hair, trying not to let my desperation show and frighten her into never talking to me again.
She shakes her head some more. "No, it's just—"
I wait. And wait. "Just what?"
"Well, Darcy asked me to be in her wedding today. So, it looks like we'll be in the wedding party together." She takes a long pull from the closest margarita.
"Wait, that's great though. I mean, we already know each other and get along. It's going to make planning the gifts and parties so much easier this way." I exhale in relief. I was seriously concerned that my attempts to talk like a normal person to her had already backfired, but instead it turns out we're going to be in the wedding together.
Wait a minute. "If that's all it is, then why did you look like you were panicking before?" I size her up carefully. "Why do you still look like you're panicking?"
She's shaking her head again, those long wisps of strawberry colored hair twisting around as she wriggles in her seat. "I'm not panicking."
Liar.
"Oh? Then what's going on over there? Because you're certainly not enjoying this amazing front porch picnic that I assembled for you with my own two hands. Do you know how many tacos died for this picnic?"
She bursts out into a short laugh, then covers up her mouth. When she's stopped being in danger of laughing again, she musters up an answer for me. "By my count, it looks like twenty. Now think of all those poor taco widows and orphans out there alone tonight, all because the man sitting across from me doesn't know how many tacos I'll eat."
"I'll bring as many tacos as you'd like to your front door every night forever, Lily. Now please. Can you tell me what's wrong?"
She picks at the cheap tablecloth for a few moments, then finally meets my eyes. "I don't want you to be ashamed of being in the wedding with me."
I recoil from her words, but then take a deep, steadying breath. "Why would you say something like that?"
She looks down again. "I'm not your usual type of girl. I mean, when we're going to be right next to each other, people are going to see us together and it's going to be awkward."
My eyebrows must be at war with one another because my entire face is wrinkled up right now. "I don't get it, Lily. Why would it be awkward?" Please don't let it be because she thinks I'm embarrassing.
She squirms uncomfortably in her chair, chewing on her delicious bottom lip. Yes, I'm definitely going to end up dying from an unrequited boner during our picnic dinner date.
