Page 166 of Love in Riverbend
My friends scurry from the bed. “Snap out of it.”
“Should we splash water on her?”
“No,” I say. “Mascara.”
It’s not that I wear a lot of makeup—just a little mascara, eyeliner, and pink stain on my lips.
“Devan,” Mom calls again.
“If he breaks up with me, you’re both fired as best friends.”
Jill has her arms crossed over her chest. “He most definitely won’t break up with you.”
Taking a deep breath, I open my bedroom door. Before stepping into the hallway, I look back. “Throw those in the laundry. I don’t want Mom to wonder.”
They both laugh.
“And stay up here.”
“You’re no fun,” Jill says.
Marilyn elbows her. “She will be later tonight.”
Shaking my head, I walk down the hallway, ultra-alert of the airflow beneath the skirt of my dress. As I descend the stairs, the skirt fluffs. I push away images of the iconic Marilyn Monroe picture. I’m about to turn around and gather my panties when I see Justin at the bottom of the stairs.
His mesmerizing blue stare is on me as his cheeks rise and his lips curl into a smile. A trimmed line of facial hair frames his chiseled jaw. As my focus moves lower, I wonder if someone told him the color of my dress because his untucked button-up shirt is a shade darker. He has his sleeves rolled up to near his elbows, and his tan muscled forearms are visible. My focus moves over his jean-clad legs. His cloth loafers make me grin. I’ve never seen him wearing anything but boots or tennis shoes.
“Hi,” I say with a smile, my nipples beading from the intensity of his stare. Once on the kitchen floor, I spin around, a full circle. “I hope this is all right. You didn’t tell me where we are going.”
“All right? Devan, you’re gorgeous.” He takes a step closer, and I’m immersed in an intoxicating cloud of fresh, clean scent mixed with a little spice of cologne. His large hand reaches for mine as we move closer, our lips brushing one another’s.
It’s then that the rest of the room comes into focus, and I see that we’re alone. “My mom must trust you. She’s not standing watch.”
Justin smirks and lowers his voice. “She wouldn’t trust me if she could read my thoughts right now.”
The rumble of his voice and provocation in his words has my core twisting. Breathing deeply, I again ask, “Where are we going?”
“I happen to know the chef at Bynard’s.”
Bynard’s.
My expression no doubt shows my excitement. At the same time, I’m worried I’m not dressed formal enough. Bynard’s is a five-star restaurant on Lake Monroe. “It’s prime season. How did you get reservations?”
Justin’s eyes open wide. “Shit, do we need reservations?”
I laugh. “It’s okay. We can go someplace else.”
He offers me his bent arm. “We’re going to Bynard’s. As I said, I have a connection and we have a reservation for seven thirty.”
Wow.
I take a step back. “Are you sure I’m dressed okay?”
“If you ask me, you’re overdressed.”
Heat flares in my cheeks at my secret.
Once we’re both in the truck, Justin leans closer, taking my breath as he kisses me deeper than he did in the kitchen. For a moment in time, our tongues slide over one another’s. When he pulls back, his grin is spectacular. “I would have never been able to drive all the way to Bloomington if I didn’t do that first.” He starts the truck, and we begin our journey.
