She’s already waiting when I pull up, standing on the curb with her hands jammed into her coat pockets, the giant white puffy earmuffs she had on the other night making her head look small.
The second she spots my truck, that smile hits her face and damn, it does things to me. I throw the truck in park and run around the front just as she yanks open the door.
“Give me a chance to be a gentleman, will ya?” I swat her ass as she climbs in.
“Hey,” she says softly, tugging her seat belt across her chest. “I’m not used to gentlemen, so give me a break.” Then she leans over the center console to kiss me like this is just a normal date night for us.
“Yeah, well,” I murmur, putting the truck in gear, “maybe you need a better example, then.”
We fall into small talk about her job, the weather, Denver traffic. “Denver feels completely different to me now that I live here.”
“How so?”
“Less like a postcard, more like… a real place,” she says, turning her head toward the window, watching snow catch the fading light.
“Yeah?”
She shrugs. “It still feels unreal at times. Like this is my actual view every day,” she says, motioning out the window. “Anyway, how was work for you today?”
“Good.” I hesitate. “I got made fun of.”
“Made fun of? By who?”
“My own damn men.” I glance at her, a small grin tugging at my mouth. “They kept asking me if I won the lottery or something.”
“Ohhh, I see.” She laughs. “And what did you say?” she presses.
I pause just long enough to make her wonder. “Told them no… but it felt like I did.”
She tilts her head. “And why’s that, Mr. Bristol?”
“Because you sucked the fucking soul out of me last night.”
Her mouth parts, surprise flickering before that wicked little grin appears. “And swallowed.”
A deep groan rumbles in my chest before I can stop it. My fingers flex on the wheel. “Fuck.” She’s enjoying this. “Anychance you want to take that snarky little mouth of yours and do it again while I finish the drive?”
She reaches her hand over, sliding it against my half-hard cock and squeezes. “You’d kill us both.”
By the time we reach the ridge, the light is stretching over the mountains like fire in streaks of pink and orange. The site sits quiet, just the skeleton of what will be a luxury home standing tall against the sky.
She looks around, her breath catching. “You brought me to a construction zone?”
“Not just any zone.” I gesture toward the half-built frame as I kill the engine. “This one’s mine. Designed it myself.”
Her eyes widen. “Seriously?”
I nod, grabbing a thermos and blanket from the back seat. “C’mon. The view’s better from the top.”
We trek up the slight hill. When we reach the framed deck, she stops dead.
“Holy crap,” she whispers.
The mountains stretch wide and endless, the sky bleeding its colors into each other. Denver glitters faintly in the distance like a string of ornaments.
I unscrew the thermos and pour cocoa into the lid, then hand it to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”
She takes a sip and hums. “This is incredible.” She looks over at me with that big smile that reaches her eyes. “Thank you for inviting me.”
