Page 43 of Falling for Red
“It’s my day right?” she asks, closing the refrigerator door.
“Right …”
“I want to have a sleepover.”
Are we ready to have sex?Am I?
“Claire …”
“No sex until I’m your girlfriend, I know,” she sasses.
“I never said that.”
She hums, and I shake my head. “Pack a bag then. For tonight and for the barbecue tomorrow.”
She squeals, then skips down the hall. It’s cute, and I’m excited to cuddle with her and have her in my bed.
27
We hop into the truck, and when he presses the button to start it, a band begins playing low. The music is surprisingly good.
“Who is this?” I ask.
“Old Dominion.”
“I don’t hatethiscountry music.”
He leans in, cupping my face as he kisses me, his thumb sweeping gently across my cheek before he leans back. “You sure you’re relaxed, Sparky?”
I giggle. I guess that was sassy. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been in years.”
He looks over his shoulder, backing out of my driveway, and I notice the Red Lives Matter sticker is no longer there.
“You got rid of the window cling,” I say, a bit surprised the only red flag about him is gone.
“I didn’t think much of it when one of the guys’ wives gave it to us—I saw it as a show of support. But after looking into it more, I get that not everyone sees it that way. I didn’t fully consider what I was signaling to the world driving around with it on my truck.”
He’s too perfect.
I squeeze his hand after he puts the truck in drive. “I like how thoughtful you are.” His hand moves to my thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth to the beat of the song as he drives through town. I love the way he touches me.
Taking in his crisp, linen, button-down and shorts, I muse, “You seem to own a lot of linen.”
Now I’m self-conscious of my own outfit—drawstring shorts and a tank top.
“Linen is the best. Lightweight, breathable, ideal for summer.”
I narrow my eyes, noting the lack of wrinkles. “Did you iron this?”
“I wanted to look nice for you.”
“You could have shared the memo.” I playfully swat his arm.
“It’s your day,” he reminds me. “Wear whatever you want.”
I laugh softly but am now curious. “And when it’syourday … what am I wearing?”
He flashes me a fucking dangerous glance. “Nothing.”
