I fished my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through my music. I wasn’t going to do this without some entertainment.
Luke Combs.
Luke Combs makes everything better.
My body relaxed as “The Kind of Love We Make” echoed through the kitchen. I dug into the dishes, losing myself in the lyrics, and belting out the words. I felt a familiar shiver down my spine, but I ignored it, submerging my hands in the warm, soapy water to fight off the chill. I caught sight of James out of the corner of my eye—good thing I liked putting on a show.
The song ended too soon, and I replayed it from the beginning. By the time the chorus rolled around again, I was putting on a concert using a brush as a microphone, dancing around the kitchen like I didn’t know James was standing right there watching. I grabbed a stack of plates from the counter, spun around, and dropped them into the sink. When I turned back, brush in hand, I wasn’t surprised at all to see James standing in the doorway, not bothering to hide the smile on his face. I ignored the annoying fluttering in my stomach, flashed him a grin, and continued with my concert.
“I thought you were washing dishes!” he shouted over the music.
“It’s Luke Combs time!” I yelled back. “No one interrupts Luke Combs time!”
James held his hands up in surrender. As the song faded out again, I refocused on the dishes, only to hear it start over again. I hadn’t set it to loop, but I shrugged it off and once again lost myself in the rhythm. I could listen to that song all day long and never get tired of it. This time, when I spun around toward the kitchen door, James stepped right into the horrible dancing with me. I started laughing so hard that my movements slowed and I almost stopped dancing.
“Hey!” he called, reaching forward to take my hand and pulling me into step with him. “No one interrupts Luke Combs time!”
The goofy, off-rhythm dancing eased up, slowing to a pace much slower than the song called for. I tried not to freeze up when James’s hands found my hips, tugging me closer. Electricity shot through my body. I stumbled, the distance between us closing. Our bodies collided, and I stabilized myself with my hands on his shoulders.
“James…”
“Shh,” he whispered in my ear. The sound raised goosebumps over my arms.
Suddenly bashful, I clamped my mouth shut. I stayed quiet as he spun me around the kitchen. I was sure that he could feel my heartbeat against his chest. I hadn’t realized how short songs were until that moment. Though my heart sank when it faded away, I pulled back, expecting we’d get back to work.
But his left hand didn’t fall. In fact, it held on tight, cementing me to him while he reset the song one more time with his other hand.
“Again,” he demanded.
I fell back into place as if I belonged there. James’s arm snaked around my waist, hand resting on the small of my back. I felt the heat of his fingertips through my t-shirt, but the warmth that spread over my entire body was a different feeling entirely. Resting my chin on his shoulder, I tried like hell to control my breathing. James hummed along to the music; the sound of his voice complimented Luke’s smooth baritone.
“You’re cute when you’re bashful,” James teased.
I scoffed, feigning offense. “How rude! I’m always cute.” I laughed around the knot in my stomach. I was holding as still as possible, worried that if I moved, I’d wind up doing something inappropriate.
James’s arms tightened around me as he chuckled. Then, his tone changed, his fingers pressed into my skin, pulling me even closer—if that were possible. He swallowed, took a deep breathin. I knew those moves—those weremymoves. The ones I used when I was chasing someone, right before I swept in to seal the deal. That adrenaline kicked in again.
“Ryder?”
“I know. This may be a bad idea—areallybad idea—but just let me have these few seconds. Please.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask.”
I tilted my head up enough to look James in the eye. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth, dark eyes darting down to my lips before meeting mine again. The unasked question lingered in the air, electricity sizzling between us. I searched his eyes for any reasonnotto lean in. If my boss was going to object, he was quickly losing his chance.
James twisted, taking a step and guiding me with him. We moved under the fluorescents, highlighting his beautiful eyes. The light reflected off them, a hint ofredswirling in his sparkling, chocolate irises. I blinked, sure I was mistaken.
He spun me away from the light, but in the dimness, the red remained.
“Do you wear contacts?” I blurted.
He stiffened, but his eyes were fixed on my mouth. “Why?”
My mouth went dry, and the knot in my stomach twisted tighter. “Y-your eyes,” I stammered in confusion. “They’re red?”
James sobered, disentangling himself and turning his back to me. Before he could explain, a knock sounded from the front of the building.
“I swear, if that’s Luke again,” James muttered, avoiding my gaze as he walked out of the kitchen.
