“Yep. Tell lover boy I said hi,” he teases.
Tossing my rag at him, I grab my keys from my purse and head out from behind the bar and outside. My steps have a lightness to them as I push out into the Philly sunshine and to the guy who’s been taking all of my cloudy days and adding sunshine. I do my best from looking eager to see him, but when I see him resting against my car, my steps quicken, almost to a light jog.
“I should get a sign,” I say when I know I’m within earshot.
His eyes are covered by his sunglasses, but I don’t miss the way they light up or track up and down my body appreciatively, lighting me up in the process.
“What would it say?” he asks and pushes off.
“Brandon’s spot, obviously,” I respond and come to a stop right in front of him. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.”
My cheeks flush and I’ll very much blame it on the heat that’s beating down on us. “What was so important that you had to come over here?”
“Your golf outfit, Angel-face.”
“Right. So what’d you get me?” I ask, and my eyes follow him as he moves toward his trunk.
“I got you something you’d like. And something I’d like,” he says with a wink and those butterflies take flight in my stomach. “But no peeking until you get home.”
I unlock my car and zone in on the bags he transfers to my trunk. “How do you know I won’t look when you leave?”
“I’ll just have to trust you,” Brandon says, then leans against my car again.
I take in the pastel pink button-down shirt he’s wearing with the khakis and brown loafers—weird, but it really works for me.
“Thank you. For the outfit.”
“You’re welcome. Is your shift over soon?” He asks and takes my hand, pulling me closer to him so I’m standing between his legs.
My hands land on his biceps to steady myself and the firmness of them surprises me. “Yes.”
“What are your plans for after?” he asks, and it takes me a few minutes to comprehend his question when his fingersbegin teasing the sliver of exposed skin between my skirt and tee.
“Um, probably playing piano,” I whisper, but all I can focus on is his lips. They’re not overly big or too small. They’re the right shape and plumpness. Judging by the way they’re curving upward, he knows where my mind is at.
“What are you thinking?”
I keep my eyes firmly on his lips. “That I need to head back inside.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yep.” I nod and lean forward, taking the leap and pressing my lips to his. Brandon doesn’t hesitate and his hands on my hips flex, pulling me closer, and fusing our bodies. We breathe each other in and drop into this moment. Slowly, our lips move against each other, and Brandon elicits a moan out of me when he bites my lower lip and soothes the sting with his tongue. My breath hitches when I feel his obvious erection at my hip and I slowly move my hips against him. Brandon’s hand slides up my back and to the base of my skull, tangling his fingers in my hair, and the other hand rests on my lower back, holding me in place. This moment with him is light, bliss, and total euphoria.
I’m not sure which one of us realizes we’re in public, but the kiss of a lifetime slows down to just pecks, and I rest my forehead on his chest. I can feel the beating of his heart and I place my hand there.
“I like you,” I tell him and slide my other hand around his waist.
He kisses the top of my head. “I like you too.”
We stay like this, wrapped around each other while resting against my car. It feels like we’ve done this dance before.
“Go finish the rest of your shift and I’ll see you tomorrow,” Brandon says with a kiss on the top of my head.
I always thought forehead kisses or kisses on the tip of my nose would cause the butterflies to take flight in my stomach. Turns out, a kiss on the top of my head from him does the trick.
Pushing off him, I back away. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
