“For real though, why are youhere today?”
Her face turns serious as the grove between her brows becomes visible. “I have no idea. I just had this weird feeling in my chest.” Her fist lands on her heart and starts rubbing the spot as if it’s sore. “Like I needed to check on you. I honestly don’t know where it came from, but you seemed fine when I came here. You are fine, right?”
Contemplating for exactly two seconds if I should tell her anything about Dick, I start nodding. “I’m good.”
Her eyes dart between mine for a long moment before she nods in response and pulls the door handle. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll keep my phone on at night this week.”
“I will.”
I’ll tell her about what happened today some other day. Tonight, I don’t want to ruin the memory of the kiss with the memory of my ex.
Tossing and turning all evening brings me to the conclusion that I just need to succumb to desire and let myself enjoy, well, myself, thinking of Jericho’s lips on me. It doesn’t take me long before I see stars, and only then can I fall asleep.
The early wakings have become sort of a routine at this point.
The subject of my midnight fantasies is already outside when I slip through the loose board in the fence, clutching my old gardening tool like it’s some kind of weapon. Which it might become if I’m faced with the neighborhood feathery terrorist.
Jericho’s wearing jeans and an open plaid shirt, covered by an unbuttoned jacket, revealing his chest and stomach.
Shivering slightly, I plaster a smile on my face, trying to appear unbothered.
He’s got a broom over his shoulder, looking like he’s auditioning for some sort of janitor action porn movie with a badscript, and I gladly admit that I’d like to be the partnering actress for the same movie, and the producer wouldn’t even have to pay me.
As I walk closer to him, the light from his back porch, which he’s already fixed after my request last night, illuminates him, and I’m rewarded with thatview. The dusting of hair across Jericho’s chest, all trickling down to a narrow line that trails from his navel down into his jeans—there’s that happy trail. Hiding there, enticing me.
When I come closer, he raises an eyebrow. “Nora,” he says with a twinkle of humor in his tone. His eyes dip to my bare legs and linger longer than it might seem appropriate for neighbors. “Trespassing again?”
I cross my arms, tapping the end of my tool against the ground. “Told ya I’d do that. Well, your rooster’s been trespassing in my dreams all morning. Pretty sure that makes us even.”
He lets out a short, annoyed laugh, and it’s almost—almost—satisfying to get that reaction out of him. “My rooster?” His tongue peeks out to give his lower lip a lazy lick, and I feel it in the places he hasn’t touched me yet. No one has touched me in ages actually, and yet, I feel it.Which rooster are we talking about again?
His self-satisfied chuckle might be a good indication that he noticed my confusion, and I wonder how he can appear so cool and collected after the hottest kiss of my life.
“Where is he?” I ask, squinting toward the back of his yard where a few evergreen bushes grow wild along the fence. “I swear I heard him over here this time.”
He doesn’t seem to be listening to my hypothesis and is instead watching me. “Cute outfit.” He licks his damn lip again while his eyes descend to my naked legs with—dare I say—a more appreciative look. It’s a very cold morning, but I ran outside once again without thinking about proper clothing. Cringing a little, I remember that this time at least I puttall boots on and one of Grandma’s long nightshirts which was sitting right on top of the pile of clean clothes, and I had to rush before the rooster evaporated again. So yeah, I bet I look like a wet dream.
“Yours too.” I nod at him, trying to appear nonchalant despite how hot his gaze on my bare legs makes me feel. It’s almost hungry, like maybe he didn’t get enough of a feel yesterday either.
He lets out a husky chuckle before turning toward the bushes. “What are we going to do?”
“Well.” I edge a little closer to him. “One of us needs to go and check if he’s there.”
He scratches his jaw, regarding me with a raised brow. “And if he is?”
“Grab the bastard and chop him up.” My eyes meet his with a playful challenge, and I can’t quite hide my grin. I make a motion with my hand of a karate hit, making him laugh again. That rich, husky morning laugh goes straight into my chest. Damn six-year dry spell—it makes me a horny baboon in the proximity of a strong jaw, facial hair, and still fresh memories.
“Vicious,” he says, and there’s an almost admiring tone in his voice.
Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I reply with a wink, “I’ve been forced into it.” I pause and tap the end of my tool against the ground. “So, are you going to do it or not?”
He looks me up and down like he’s assessing my loyalty to our mission and trying to decide whether I’m trustworthy enough to back him up if something goes south.
“Wish me luck.” He cracks his neck like he’s about to enter a fighting ring.
And he is, almost. We don’t know what that bird is capable of. I take a few steps to follow him, holding my so-called weapon tightly.
“GO!” I urge him forward with a laugh that echoes above all the usual morning sounds.
