I’ve done this.
I’m here.
I’m chewing on her words, trying to decide how I’m supposed to react to them, when Bradley angles his body toward a camera mounted on the front of the refrigerator. Odd place for a camera, but what do I know?
“We’ve got Ariana all settled here in theExpectedhouse. Doesn’t she look beautiful? Sax is going to be blown away.” He winks dramatically at me before facing the fridge again. “And now, my beautiful wife and I are going to send in Sax. Ariana, I hope this is everything that you expected.”
My heart beats loudly in my chest as I watch them leave out the front door. The sound it makes as it closes is deafening in the tense silence.
That door is where he’s going to come in. That plain wooden door with the golden knob. It’s going to open up, and he’s going to cross the threshold, and my life is going to change forever.
Do I wait here and watch him walk in? Is that weird?
Maybe I should sit on the couch and pose myself beautifully, with this uncomfortable dress spread out around me. Or go into the bedroom, recline on the bed all sexy like, and have him find me.
Should I make a drink to offer him when he comes in? Have it in my hand like a vintage housewife?
No, Sax wouldn’t want that. He knows who I am. He won’t want me to pretend I’m anything I’m not.
I run my hands down the front of my dress, a knee-length A-line copper satin number that wardrobe shoved me into this morning. Apparently, the outfit I packed for this moment wasn’t “dramatic” enough. It tucks in my waist and pushes my breasts up, giving an enviable silhouette.
I still look like myself, don’t I? What if I don’t? What if, God forbid, we get intimate, and he hates the way my body looks outside of this dress?
What if he isn’t as attracted to me as I am to him?
He has to be at least a little attracted to me. All the sensuous phone calls during my heat couldn’t have been faked.
I’m still standing in the middle of the room like an idiot when the front door opens. The sun momentarily blinds me, but when my vision adjusts, he’s standing right there.
Sax is standing in front of me, haloed by the sunlight, every bit the person I expected him to be.
He’s just as gorgeous as he was on my tiny phone screen. Tall, with a trim waist and broad shoulders. Classically handsome, with a strong nose and shy smile. He’s the type of man people salivate over.
And I hope he wants me the way I want him.
He’s taller than me, with blond hair that is neatly styled, longer on top and faded on the sides in a trendy, fresh cut, and slate grey eyes shimmer behind his glasses. They dressed him in an uncomfortable-looking pair of slacks and left the top two buttons of his collar undone, highlighting sand-colored skin that I just know is soft. An unreadable expression flashes across his face as he stares at me from the doorway.
“Onion.” It sounds like a prayer on his lips, and my throat immediately tightens. I didn’t realize how much I needed this. How much I love him. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I don’t know what else to say. I’m afraid that if I try, I’ll devolve into relieved, desperate sobs at finally standing in front of him and scare him away.
We stare at each other for a moment in a heavy silence. My heart is skipping in my chest, and I want to run to him,but I can’t seem to make my legs move. They’re heavy with the weight of this moment.
He takes a few steps forward, and several things happen at once.
The mouthwateringly sweet scent of fresh-baked pecan pie swirls around me, causing a whine to build in my throat and my panties to grow slick.
Oh, fuck.
No no no no no no no no.
This can’t be happening.
This can’t be happening.
Sax is my scent match.
My scent match.
