She turns to me with question in her eyes.
“Remember when I asked you out on a date?”
Her grin is devilish, her eyes a bit hooded. “I think I remember that,” she says nonchalantly. “Something about wearing something sexy, if I recall.”
It’s all I can do not to growl. My voice is a little tight. “Yeah, I remember something like that, too. Anyway, would you like to go out tonight?”
Adley’s smile turns excited. “Definitely. I’ll need to feed the animals and shower and change, though.”
“No problem. I’ll need to get ready myself. Do you think an hour is enough time?”
She nods enthusiastically, and my grin is so wide, my face aches. I kiss her forehead before I leave, hardly able to wait to return.
I’m going to die.
I mean, I’m going to be one happy motherfucker, but holy shit.
When I asked Adley to wear something sexy—something easy to take off—I was not expecting this.
She stands in the doorway in a light blue dress, spaghetti straps, and a loose neckline that bunches above her breasts. The skirt comes to just above her knees, and it flows like water when she moves.
Visions of me pulling the neckline down below her breasts and pushing the skirt up above her waist to access her pussy assault my brain in equal amounts.
Instead, I stand on her porch, gaping like a cod, cock turning to steel in my suit’s trousers.
To be fair, Adley gives me a heated look as her gaze roams up and down my body. And I admit it, I look damned good, too.
Solid black suit, black tie knotted perfectly, and, believe it or not, a light blue dress shirt that nearly matches her dress.
“It’s like we coordinated.”
She steals the words from the wrinkles of my brain.
“You look so gorgeous, I’m tempted to just stay right here.”
Adley laughs, head shaking. “I’m actually starving.”
“You ready to go?”
She hums in agreement, and we head to my truck, where I carefully help her inside, hand gripping her hip dangerously close to her ass, because I wouldn’t want her to get hurt in those fuck-me heels she’s got on. And that’s the only reason, I swear.
It takes only a few minutes to make it to the parking lot of Wildflower Brewing Company & Restaurant, the fanciest place in Crescent Lake.
I didn’t want to go too far, and I like to support local businesses.
After I help Adley out of the truck, she links her arm with mine, keeping her purse in her free hand. We walk around the side of the building to the entrance up front, and I’m warm and comforted all over, like I’m being given the best hug of my life.
Inside, a large crowd is gathered in the waiting area, and I can feel Adley cringe. But I keep my cool and walk us up to the hostess. “We have a reservation for Lang.”
The young girl checks her list and smiles up at us. “Yes, Mr. Heller told us to expect you. Right this way, please.”
She leads us to a nice, private table toward the back of the restaurant. The décor here is a mix of dark, distressed wood, stainless steel, and stained concrete, fake candles flicker all around.
Once we’re seated, Adley raises her eyebrow at me.
“Who’s Mr. Heller?”
I almost laugh, but instead, give a Cheshire Cat smile. “Vaughn.”
