All that hungry rumbling in my empty stomach ceases instantly, and I flick off the kitchen light on my way upstairs to shower.
I roll my neck with a pained grunt as the hot water pelts my shoulders. Sticking my head directly under the stream, I shut my eyes and allow my imagination to run wild with imagery of Eira in the shower with me, like the morning after in the hotel, when I fell to my knees under the rain shower head and ate her perfect pussy.
I’ve been aflame for months, consumed by thoughts of her that leave me desperately clinging to my bedsheets, jerking it until my skin is raw.
My dick’s rock hard, but I don’t touch it. That’s my punishment for not sticking around here long enough to talk to her this morning. I left a goddamn sticky note with one word instead of asking her to have dinner with me like a normal person.
Idiot.
I slam the tap off, angrily wrapping a towel around my waist and brushing my teeth so hard my gums hurt.
Idiot.
Chapter seven
Lucas
I’m flopped on top of my bed in nothing but a towel when a noise downstairs startles me from my self-loathing stupor, and I frantically scrounge up a pair of sweatpants before heading out to investigate. I’m still adjusting the waistband when I get to the top of the stairwell and look down to see her.
“Eira?”
“Hey,” she says with an exasperated exhale, tugging the scarf from her neck. “Sorry for letting myself in. It’s so cold out, and I was knocking, but you… uh, must’ve been in the shower.” Her eyes rake over my naked torso, my still-damp chest.
“No need to be sorry.” All the insecurity that wormed into my brain during my shower dislodges with her easy smile. “Let me get changed, and I’ll be right down. I’m glad you understood my vague note about dinner.”
“I wasn’t quite sure what it meant, so I tried to make something. But, uh, did you know it’s possible to burn soup?” She grimaces, nose scrunching up in the cutest way, and I stifleback a laugh, not wanting to embarrass her. “I had to replace your pot… I grabbed takeout while I was in town.”
“Can’t go wrong with either of the restaurants in town.”
“That’s what Holly said when I called her to ask.”
Mention of my sister has me scrambling away from the quicksand filled with thoughts about fucking her best friend right there against the front door. As much as I want nothing more than to peel her clothes off and wrap her thighs around my neck like a life preserver.
I shouldn’t. Not again.
Right?
Tugging on my cleanest pair of jeans and a shirt free of stains, I reach for the bottle of cologne in my dresser. I honestly never bother to wear it, but it feels like my best shot of making myself appear date-worthy.
Eira’s sitting at the kitchen table looking out the window as dancing candlelight flickers over her face. Her dark hair’s so much shorter than it was at the engagement party, an inch shy of skimming her shoulders. She’s ditched the winter coat since I saw her in the doorway, and a loose shirt exposes her kissable collarbone.
That glimpse of effortless beauty has me hating all five years wasted walking into an empty kitchen. Regretting not getting her number six months ago. Cursing myself for not asking her out on a proper date before I had to leave the city.
Looking at the food she’s laid out beautifully on porcelain plates I forgot I own, I crack up. “Chicken tenders and French fries?”
Eira’s cheeks turn crimson, smile wavering, and I feel like the world’s biggest asshole.
“I can’t remember the last time I had good chicken tenders.” I pull out the wooden chair opposite hers and sink into it. “Problem with raising cattle is it becomes pretty much all youeat. I can’t justify buying chicken when there’s half a cow sitting in my deep freezer.”
“I wasn’t sure what was good, or what you and your girlfriend might like, so I panicked and went with something safe.” She grabs a fry, slowly twirling it through a dollop of ketchup on her plate. “Is she joining us?”
A fry lodges itself in my throat, and I cough into my closed fist for what feels like a century while she stares at me.
“Girlfriend?”
Nostrils flaring, she looks me over, clearly checking for signs of deceit. “I saw her here this morning…”
“Cora,” I say, as if saying her name explains everything. If anything, the stare turned glare from Eira indicates I’ve done the opposite. “She’s just an employee here. Well… sort of. She lives in the apartment above the barn and works for me in exchange for rent.”
