Page 52 of Sugar Coated Lies
“It’s not a problem. Like I said, I couldn’t sleep.”
Where are my manners? I open the door wide. “Would you like some coffee?”
“I don’t want to impose.” He peers inside, searching for my grandpa, I’m sure.
“He’s sleeping,” I say. “And you’re not imposing. You just brought me my car. Coffee is the least I can do.”
“Okay. Sure.” He steps into the kitchen, his head a foot from the low ceilings.
“Have a seat.” I gesture to the couch. “I’ll be right back.” I snatch my short robe from the bathroom and cover myself up before returning to the kitchen to make him a cup of coffee. I’ve made him enough to know how he likes it. I even have pecan milk, which he prefers, free of charge from the farm. Job perks are one of the many wonderful things about working for Daire and his family’s business.
I bring him the coffee and sit beside him on the couch. “So…?” I say, vaguely recalling a similar conversation last night on our walk to the lake. I stifle a giggle and notice Daire is fighting a grin. “You remember last night?”
“Yeah.” He nods and releases his smile before sipping some coffee. “I remember everything that happened.”
Silence falls between us, each of us staring into our coffee mugs like it holds the answer to our situation.
“I’m sorry about last night,” Daire says to his coffee, a frown on his perfect lips. “I was inappropriate.
“No more than I was.”
He peers up at me with those green eyes, surprise lighting them from within.
“It’s a good thing Easton showed up when he did, or I might have jumped you on the dock,” I tease, repeating a version of what he said to me last night. My cheeks heat with instant embarrassment. What am I doing?
Daire chokes on his coffee.
I race to the kitchen to get him a napkin and hand it to him before sitting back down. “Are you okay?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. Just surprised.”
I exhale, and once again, we fall into silence.
“We made things awkward, didn’t we?”
“I did.” He shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have told you I wanted to take you by the tree.”
The heat in his eyes when he’d said it returns to my mind, along with the excitement I felt at his confession.
“I’ve never done it by a tree,” I murmur and bite my lip, my cheeks ablaze.
Daire’s body tenses like he’s frozen solid.
I give him a sideways glance.
His eyes are closed, his left hand curled into a fist on his thigh. “You can’t say stuff like that. Not when you’re so close and dressed like fucking dessert.”
Dressed like dessert in these old pajamas?I don’t know why, but his comment and the tension in his body have my core flooded with desire. I squeeze my legs together to alleviate the ache and press my hand where my thighs meet.
Daire peers over at me and sees what I’m doing. “That turned you on?”
“I’m afraid to say.”
“Fuck.” He hisses in a breath and squeezes his eyes closed again. “We can’t act on this. It goes against policy and everything I preach at the farm.”
“I know.” I lower my head, guilt piercing me. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make things harder—for either of us—and I don’t want to lose my job.”
“I would never fire you,” he says with a conviction that draws my gaze to his.
