Page 19 of Falling for Red
“Why would I do that?”
I press a firm kiss to her lips. “No dilly dallying.” I trace her lips with my fingers. “Go inside and get to work.”
She bites her lip, turning to her door. I swat her lightly on the ass when she opens it, and her head immediately turns back.
She squints playfully before saying, “I’m relieved you’re not boring in this way.” Claire steps into the house, and I hear the lock flip behind her. Walking back to the car, I’m smiling to myself.What a night.
I drive home in silence, replaying our date, curious if she’ll complete the mission. I’m more than a little distracted thinking about her and what she could be doing right now. But I can also see her wanting to be defiant. Not wanting to give me this since I didn’t go inside.How much of a brat is she?I’m still nervous about where she’s at emotionally. But I want more than sex from Claire. I want everything she’s willing to give me.
Pressing the garage door button, my phone lights up with a new text.
Claire Moore
Mission complete.
Staring at my phone, the shit eating grin on my face says it all. She’s fucking perfect.
Jake Schmidt
Good girl.
13
Friday, July 4th
Ichuckle at how prompt Jake is, parking his red truck on the curb exactly at seven-thirty.Of course, he drives a big red pickup truck, I think, stepping out of my house and locking the door behind me.
A smile grows as I think about last night’s mission. There’s an excitement bubbling inside me for this low-pressure date. As I approach, I check him out in an army-green Marine’s shirt and black shorts.
“I wasn’t expecting your shorts to be shorter than mine,” I tease, trying to keep things light despite the butterflies. I can’t believe he told me to get off with a toy last night, and that I did it.
Good girl.I was not expecting him to be like that. But I guess with the military, it tracks?
He laughs deeply. “At least yours are tighter.” I look down at my bike shorts and a baggy shirt. “Where’s my coffee?”
“In the truck,” he says, grabbing my hand and easing me toward him. We share a sweet kiss until he tugs on my ponytail.
I pull back slightly, smiling entirely too much. “Why’d you do that?”
“I love ponytails.”
Jake.His flirtation feels easy, effortless.
With our fingers interlaced, we walk toward the truck, but my smile fades when I notice something in the back window—a black American flag with a red stripe window cling. A Red Lives Matter sticker.There it is—the red flag I was looking for. A fucking literal red flag.
I pause, awkwardly standing outside the truck when he opens the door. The sight of that sticker makes me go back to my immediate assumption. He was in the military. He’s a firefighter. He has to have toxic masculinity and other associations. I’ve been enjoying this—too much, probably—but now all I can think about is what that sticker might mean.
If we don’t talk about it now, it’s going to be on my mind the whole time we’re hanging out this morning.
“What’s up?” Jake asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.
I take a breath, deciding to confront it head-on before we end up in another location. Depending on how he answers this, I can just turn around and head back inside. “How, like, Red Lives Matter are you?”
Jake looks confused. “I’m a firefighter?”
I point to the sticker. “That has other meanings.” I cross my arms, raising my brows.
“Like?” He tilts his head. “What are you getting at?”
