Page 75 of Good as Gold
She lets out a shuddery breath. “We can’t. Not yet.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just know that I’ll be watching for your text. I have to work another event tomorrow night. A private party down in Putney. Ends after ten, so I probably won’t get back until late. That a problem?”
She scrubs a hand across her forehead. “No, nope. That’s probably going to be good timing.”
“So how about this—wait for me in my trailer? That way you can sleep if you want to. And I won’t have to drop off the wagon on my way to find you.”
“S-sure,” she stammers. “I could do that.”
I take a deep breath and try to cool down. But the way Leila is looking at me right now doesn’t help at all. Even in the dim light, I can see the flutter of her pulse in her throat. I just want to kiss her there while I fuck her. “When I’m driving home tomorrow night, I’m gonna picture you waiting in my bed. Naked.”
She gulps.
“I leave the trailer unlocked. Come over whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay,” she breathes. Pretty sure she’s feeling just as ready as I am.
“Bring your toothbrush. I’ll make sure I’ve got some food for breakfast. We’ll need a couple rounds to make sure we’ve beenverythorough.”
Leila lets out a gusty breath. “Got it. I’ll be ready.”
“Got extra ice packs in the warehouse?”
She blinks. “Why? The coolers are full.”
“I need some in my briefs.” I pinch her arm.
She cracks up. “I’ll put them in your order for tomorrow.”
“Good girl. Now let’s do this.” I point at the keg. “This beer isn’t going to load itself, missy.”
She gives me an eye roll and hops out of the wagon.
* * *
I never claimed to be a smart man. A wiser man would have told Leila to wait in a potato sack. Or maybe a hazmat suit.
For all of Saturday night and Sunday, I keep flashing back to the kiss in the beer wagon, and my trousers feel uncomfortably tight.
God, her mouth. I need more. By Sunday night, I feel like I’m dying, and the party I’m serving seems to last forever. It’s a golf banquet and heavy on the speeches.
If a man can stay semi erect during an awards ceremony for golf, you know he’s hard up. The only saving grace is that tonight I’m working alone. There are only sixty party guests and they’re mostly retirees, so I made the right call when’d I’d decided to keep the whole service fee to myself.
Rory isn’t here, which is a blessing, because I’m not capable of small talk tonight. And if I think too much about him, I’ll start feeling guilty again. I didn’t agree to help Leila as some kind of revenge plot against him.
At least I hope I didn’t.
I serve another beer and hold back my sigh. The minutes tick by. Even geezers like to party. They don’t clear out until eleven, and the drive is two hours.
In the truck, I put on a playlist to stay awake, but I don’t really need it. I picture Leila sleeping alone in my bed, the sheet pulled up over her breasts. Her eyes closed. Head thrown back on my pillow.
When she dreams at night, I wonder what she sees. Maybe she sees herself rocking the child I’m going to put inside her.
It’s a clear night, and I press the accelerator down another degree. Pedal to the metal, I can’t believe I’m racing home to a woman who needs my seed to have a child. Hell, a year ago I’d have laughed in the face of whoever suggested I’d do this.
But it’s Leila who needs me, so I’m there, no question. As I cross the county line, my body already aches for her, and by the time I pull the wagon into Otto’s gravel drive, I’m made of heat.
It doesn’t matter that it’s one in the morning. All my senses are on fire as I climb out of the truck and walk across the farmland toward my trailer.
