And I chose to take a chance.
Before I could think better of it, I moved through the arch and out into the dated living room. I slipped on my sandals I’d left by the door.
Then I let myself out into the muggy, Alabama night, the air heady with wafts of honeysuckle and fresh-cut grass.
Moon, huge and high, cast the slumbering houses and trees in a silvery glow, and the steady trill of cicadas danced all around.
It felt like stepping straight back into my childhood. The memories of the nights I’d spent on the porch with my grandmother staring up at the stars seemed so close it felt as if I only had to reach out to go back to that time.
Inhaling the vestiges, I kept my footsteps as light as possible. Even still, they crunched against the gravel driveway, and I sucked in an emboldened breath when I stole through the night and across the street, silently making my way up his walkway.
Carefully, I climbed his steps, hand on the railing as if it offered moral support, and crossed his freshly stained deck. I stopped at his door, my heart the thunder that incited a storm within my chest.
What was I doing?
This was insane.
This guy hated me for no apparent reason at all.
Still, I found myself lifting my hand, my fist quietly knocking at his door.
I was shaking all over by the time the latch turned and the door flew open, and I was again met with the same unwarranted fury from earlier. Although this time it was harder.
All of it.
His scowl and his glare and every gloriously defined ridge of his body.
Oh. My. God.
There was nothing I could do to keep my eyes from dropping to explore the wide expanse of exposed flesh. His shirt was missing, and he was wearing nothing but boxer briefs.
I gulped. That foolish attraction drenched me through, wet and hot and sticky. Flaming free and leaving me weak in the knees.
My gaze latched on the tattoo that ran the entirety of his left upper arm. It was a landscape of a jagged cliff with a waterfall pouring over the side. The splashes rising up from the seething pool of water were bright, colorful feathers that floated and twisted as if blown by the breeze.
Sorrow and hope.
They were so clearly impressed into the depiction.
“What are you doing here?”
The severity in his voice cut through the night, impaling my stupor, jerking my attention up to his face.
Of course, it had to be equally as striking as the rest of him.
Powerful and dominant.
I shook as I took a fumbled step back.
Oh, wow, was this stupid. So damned stupid.
Still, I lifted my chin. “I was just...” I fumbled for an excuse to be standing at his door at one in the morning. “Wondering if you had any almond extract?”
His head cocked, and if it were possible, his eyes narrowed even more. “Do I look like I have almond extract?”
“Ummm...” I stammered.
Great.
