One look at her had my insides clenching and my heart racing. Exactly like they are now.
I’ve spent months dreaming about this woman.
Months of waking up sweaty and hard.
Months of taking my cock in hand and trying to relieve the ache her memory left me with.
I might not have seen her since that day, but my body obviously remembers her. My mind might have taken a while to catch on to who I was staring at, but the rest of me didn’t. It explains why I stood on the other side of the road staring like a creeper.
She’s different now. Her hair is shorter, the color darker, and she’s wearing a dress that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
The one and only time I met her, she was in jeans and a t-shirt. A pair of flip-flops on her feet, not the mile-high heels she’s wearing tonight.
Before I can form a word, think of an appropriate reason for staring through the windshield at her, she’s pushing her door open and climbing out of her seat.
“Garrett?” She says my name, hope and relief in her voice, as she rounds her door and any hope I had of forming words is lost.
Lost at the sight of the woman in front of me.
She looked good from across the street; it’s why I couldn’t take my eyes off her when she came out of the restaurant. But up close?
Damn. She’s a wet dream come to life.
Mywet dream come to life.
I’ve always had a thing for curves. It’s why I restore old cars in my spare time. They don’t make them like they used to.
Women? I like them like my cars, on the curvy side.
And Alexandria Carmichael isallcurves.
3
ALEXANDRIA
Aknock on the hood has a split second of panic surging through me before I see the man standing on the road in front of my car. I have no idea who he is or why he’s standing there or how long he’s been there.
I don’t recall seeing him when I walked to my car, but I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, he might have been there the whole time.
He’s big, well over six feet, with shoulders to match his height. But he doesn’t frighten me. He wouldn’t be in front of my car if he planned to do me harm, he’d be at my door trying to get inside.
I can only see him from mid-thigh up, but what I see is a lot. His thighs are big, his chest wide, and his arms bulge with ropey muscles. The meaty hands on the ends of those bulky arms are so large he could easily break the window next to my head with a fist if he wanted to.
And yet, I still don’t feel threatened. At all. Which seems strange, considering his bulky form looms over my car.
It’s his stance, I think. It isn’t aggressive, and he hasn’t made a move toward me since I looked up. It’s not until I take in hisface, the familiar shape of it, that I study him more closely. He reminds me of Olivia’s boyfriend.
I know Carter has two younger brothers, but this isn’t Devon. I’ve met him a number of times, and he has more of a wiry build, like a runner. This guy is built solid. Like a weightlifter.
Garrett. This has to be Garrett. The family resemblance is unmistakable, and a smile pulls at my lips. The first genuine one of the night. Relief washes over me, and I open my door and step out.
“Garrett?”
The grunt I get in reply could be a yes or no.
“Alexandria. Olivia’s best friend,” I explain just in case he doesn’t know why I know his name.
I get a nod with the grunt this time, and I can’t help the smile that stretches my lip.
