I gulped.Is this another hookup or a sort of date? He likes me? Woah.“Uh, so it’s at your house?”
“It’s in my car. We can go to your place if you’d rather.”
“Uh, yours is fine.” He’d already seen how shitty it was. He didn’t need another reminder. “I’ll follow you.”
“Okay,” he replied in a warm tone. He brought his hand down my back, settling right above my ass where he gave me a light squeeze. “Drive safe.”
I blasted someIt Takes Twoby Rob Base and DJ EZ rock and tried to relax. It was a futile attempt because I was wound tight. Fun.This is fun.The familiar winding road crept into view and his palace sat at the end, not really that inviting. I parked and took an extra minute to get out of the car.
There was a feeling of emptiness inside me before fluttering took over.Fuck this.Why am I nervous?I brushed my hands down my black yoga pants and straightened the hem of my retro Soles shirt. The team had been around fifty years without a World Series win, but the logo from the late seventies was cool. The entire team had commented on it and insisted on getting team shirts—I was in charge of ordering them after collecting all the money, being the most organized person there. I was half-inclined to order ones with glitter on them.
I chuckled at the thought and found Gideon. He disappeared behind the large garage doors and I wasn’t sure if I should wait outside or head inside.
Screw that.I marched right on in and found him taking the bag of equipment out and setting it on an organized shelf. “Need any help, gimpy?”
“You’re a dick,” he replied but there was a light tone to his voice. “And no. I don’t need help and I’m not a gimp.”
“Whatever you say, muscles.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, perfectly content to watch him bend and move things around. I figured I might as well get my fill of him—why else would I be here unless to enjoy his body? “Where’s this high-class whiskey?”
“Thirsty?”
Oh, damn.The way he said that word had me all kinds of thirsty for him. “You have no idea.”
“Come on. We can sit outside.”
We do like to do it outside.I clapped my hands, my body humming in response to his. We didn’t agree on much, but we had no problems pleasuring each other. “I didn’t realize the last time I was here that you have a porch.”
“We weren’t on polite speaking terms then.” He shot me an amused look. “Times have changed.”
“Slightly. You’re still one asshole comment away from me hitting you.”
He grinned again—the two dimples teasing me—and held open a large glass door at the back end of the kitchen. “After you.”
“Good god. It’s beautiful out here.” I tried to take it all in at once and ended up spinning around like a fool. Camelback Mountain—famously named for its humped shape—stood in the backdrop with the evening colors mixing with the desert sky. A fire pit sat off to the right, unused, and a handful of comfortable chairs called my name. I approached the one closest to the door. “Can we start a fire?”
“Sure. Want to pour the drinks? I just like two cubes.”
“Are you sure I can handle your precious liquid?” I fired back. He pulled on the end of my hair and disappeared inside without a word.Jesus.I blinked twice, the sweet gesture too much.Whiskey. Fucking. Leaving.I walked into the sleek kitchen with all sorts of modern appliances. I wouldn’t be surprised if the refrigerator had a camera on it. “Gid! Do you have that thing where you can call your fridge when you’re getting food?”
“That’s not a thing.” He snuck up behind me, his cologne making my ovaries go into overdrive. He was so big. His chest brushed up against my back and he pressed some buttons. “Fridge. Prepare drinks for us.”
“What?” I gasped, but elbowed him in the ribs when I realized he was joking. “You’re an asshole.”
“You fell for it. That’s hilarious,” he said between laughs. “God, you’re adorable. Glasses are over the stove, the whiskey on the table. Three fingers, please.”
I let out a puff of air and thought about pinching him or something, but he was soon out of reach. I found the glasses and his precious two cubes and poured two neat whiskeys. I took a whiff, the strong, bold amber liquid burning my nostrils. I preferred it with some diet cola but it didn’t seem to be that type of night. I used the time alone to collect my thoughts and snoop. He had nothing on his fridge. It was black and empty. Michelle and I had all sorts of shit—takeout menus, pictures of our families, our lame attempt at art when we’d tried to do a paint-by-numbers one night. His was…nothing.
I brought the drinks outside and he bent over, his occasional grunt amusing me. “Need help reading the directions?”
“Your smartass remarks just make it all the better when you’re screaming my name later.”
“Such a cheesy line.”
“Yet still true. Can you shine your phone light over this for a second?”
I set the glasses down and joined him by the pit. This put us next to each other, my legs touching him. It took about ten seconds, then the fire started with small embers. He let out a small cheer and squeezed my hip. “Thanks, Fiona. Ah, let’s enjoy this.”
That hip grab. That was new.I cleared my throat and took the seat next to him. He held up his glass and I found the courage to meet his gaze. It seemed intense. “Cheers to reaching our goals, yeah?”
