Page 46 of That Moment
Either way, I get to pretend it doesn’t matter.
I take another drink, finishing the beer and staring out at the horizon. Priscilla and Rosa move through the field, tails flicking, slow silhouettes in the fading light. I tell myself to relax.
But the truth is, I’m wired tight as a live wire. Waiting for a damn text. So I make good on my promise to cook and fire up the grill before heading back inside to grab the steaks from the fridge and another beer to calm my nerves.
The kitchen’s quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the tick of the old wall clock. I’ve got the steaks on the counter, seasoning half-done, beer sweating beside me. My phone is face down near the sink. I tell myself not to look, but as if it could read my mind, it vibrates loudly on the counter. When I flip it over, the screen lights up with a response from her.
Adrienne:Come outside.
I blink, heart jumping once. Before I can even process, another message slides in.
Adrienne:Now.
I stare at the words, pulse hammering in my throat.She’s here already?The towel hits the counter. I grab my beer and head for the door, boots heavy on the hardwood. The screen slams behind me as I step onto the porch.
There she is.
Her BMW was pulled halfway up the drive, parked crooked like she didn’t care. She’s sitting on the hood, one long leg crossed over the other, dress hitched just high enough to immediately grab my attention. The same black dress from this morning, sexy, tight, sinful. Heels still on, reflecting the porch light with every small shift of her ankle.
She looks up when she hears the door, but doesn’t move. Just watches me. My body reacts before my brain catches up, blood rushing south, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I take the steps slowly, beer dangling from my fingers, eyes locked on her. The gravel crunches beneath my boots, loud in the quiet.
“Guess that means you got my message,” I say.
She tilts her head, that slow, knowing smirk curving her mouth. “Guess that means dinner’s on you.”
That tone. Soft. Teasing… Tempting. Designed to crawl right under my skin, and it's working.
I stop a few feet from her, the space between us already tight with heat. I smell her lingering perfume again, and all I can think about is how bad I want to get her out of that dress.
“You always show up to a man’s job dressed like that just to fuck with him?” I ask, voice low.
“You liked it,” she counters, eyes dragging down my chest. “You enjoy being teased. Don’t you?”
I let out a rough laugh, shaking my head. I don’t know how she does it, but she throws me off kilter every damn time she opens her mouth. Her confidence, cocky or not, is hot as hell. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Her gaze lifts back to mine, slow and deliberate. “I do know that. I also know that you like that about me.”
She’s right.
For a moment, neither of us moves. The air hums between us, thick and heavy. The sun’s gone, the sky gone deep blue, and the only light left is the soft glow from the porch washing over her legs.
“Inside,” I say finally, the word coming out more of a command than an invitation. She uncrosses her legs, my eyes dropping to look at them as she stands. The move is slow, intentional.
When she reaches me, she stops for a brief second to press her palm flat against my chest, her hand warm through the thin cotton of my shirt. My heart slams against her touch.
“Yes, sir,” she murmurs.
Her fingers drag down the length of my chest, slow enough to leave a burn. Her fingers snake around mine, grabbing the bottle of beer from my hand before she steps around me.
The brush of her body as she passes makes me shiver. She doesn’t wait for me to follow. Just climbs the steps, hips swaying like she knows damn well I’m watching.
By the time I move, she’s already at the door, fingers curling around the handle. She glances back once, just enough to make sure I see the smirk on her lips. And then she pushes the door open and disappears inside. I stand there for a second, every muscle tight as I think through what I’m about to do.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, smiling like a man walking straight into the fire. Then I follow her inside.
The second the door shuts, the air changes. She’s holding the beer she took from me, lips curved in that teasing way that always means trouble. I take it from her hand, set it on the counter with a quietthud, and step into her space until she’s trapped between me and the edge.
