Page 31 of Fall Surprises
"Better than staring at my ceiling thinking about—" He stopped himself, jaw working.
"About what?"
"You know exactly what." His voice dropped, rough with want. "About having you in my arms. About the sounds you made when I was kissing your neck. About what other sounds I could draw from you if you'd let me."
My breath caught. "Gus—"
"I know. Tomorrow's the wedding. You're leaving Sunday. This is complicated and messy and the logistics couldn't be worse." He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in ways that shouldn't be attractive but were. "But I can't get you out of my damn head. And I don't think you came down here just for tea."
He was right. I'd known he'd be here. Some part of me had counted on it.
"I came for tea," I said anyway, clearing my throat, needing to maintain some pretense of control.
"Cabinet above the coffee maker." His voice was carefully neutral now, but his eyes stayed hot. "Though if you really want to not sleep, I have a better idea."
I raised an eyebrow.
"There's a haunted house in town. Fright Night. Still running for Halloween weekend." A smile tugged at his mouth, transforming his face. "Unless you're scared."
"I am definitely not scared," I said with more confidence than I felt.
"Of fake zombies and rubber masks?"
"You seem like the type who'd scream at every jump scare."
"I do not scream."
His grin widened. "Oh? Prove it."
This was reckless. Irresponsible. The wedding was in less than fifteen hours. I should be sleeping, reviewing my timeline, checking my phone for vendor confirmations, doing literally anything other than sneaking out with the chef I'd been grinding against in this very kitchen hours ago.
"Give me two minutes to get ready."
I raced upstairs, pulled on socks and sneakers, grabbed my coat. When I came back down, Gus was waiting by the side door, jacket thrown over his thermal shirt.
"Ready for some terror?" he asked.
"Bring it on."
We slipped out like teenagers breaking curfew, both of us grinning at the absurdity. The October night was sharp enough to steal breath, but Gus's truck was warm when we climbed in, heat blasting from the vents.
"This is insane," I said as he pulled onto the dark mountain road.
"Probably." He glanced over, that half-smile making my stomach flip. "When's the last time you did something reckless just for the fun of it?"
I thought about it. Really thought about it. Before the business consumed everything. Before my ex made me feel like spontaneity was childish. "I honestly can't remember."
"Then we're overdue."
I rolled down the window despite the cold, letting the wind whip through my hair. The mountain air smelled of pine and frost and possibility.
"You should wear it down more often," Gus said, his eyes on the road but aware of my every movement.
"It gets in the way when I'm working."
"Not everything has to be about work, Sam."
"Says the man who was scrubbing his already-clean kitchen at one-thirty in the morning."
