“Nope,” Jax chimes in.
After finalizing the last details with Owen, I check my watch. It’s just shy of eight o’clock. Hanging out with my friends made time fly.
“I should head out.” I slide off the stool. “Got an early client tomorrow before we close up shop for the party.”
Claire gives me a quick hug. “Make sure you bring your girl tomorrow. I can’t wait to meet her.”
“We’ll see,” I grunt, knowing I have every intention of showing Noia off.
The ride home takes longer than usual with Friday night traffic. You would think a small town in the mountains wouldn’t have that problem, but you’d be wrong.
By the time I pull into the driveway, my shoulders are tight with exhaustion. An unfamiliar blue Mazda is parked next to Noia’s SUV and I suddenly remember her friend Sasha is visiting this weekend.
Great. Just what I need. An audience for our slow-burn standoff. Guess I’ll have to take it down a notch while she’s around.
The house is quiet, but I can hear muffled voices and occasional bursts of laughter coming from upstairs. I recognize Noia’s melodic giggle, followed by another woman’s throaty laugh.
In the kitchen, I pour myself two fingers of whiskey and down it before pouring another, the liquor easing some of the tension from my shoulders.
Another round of giggles erupts from upstairs, followed by a hushed “Shhh!” then more giggles.
Wanting to give them and myself some space, I grab myglass and head to my bathroom for a much-needed shower. The hot water pounds against my back as the steam clears my head.
After toweling off, I put on a pair of boxers and collapse onto my bed with a groan. Goonie appears almost immediately, jumping up beside me and settling into the crook of my arm with a contented purr.
“Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, pudge,” I murmur, scratching behind his ears.
The warmth of his soft body against my side is oddly comforting, and I find myself drifting into the soft darkness of dreamless sleep with Goonie’s steady purr as my lullaby.
THIRTY-ONE
noia
I holdup the tiny pink pair of pajama shorts, scanning it with a critical eye. If Ryder plans on slow-burning me this morning, I might as well start things off with a bang.
Sasha always takes a shower right after she gets up; it’s the only way she can get her ass in gear. So, while she’s up here? I’m going to go down there and slow-burn his ass first.
Rummaging through my top drawer, I find a thin, white, practically see-through, tiny cutoff tank. I pull it on and turn to check my profile in the full-length mirror.
Nipples pebbled with excitement, my areolas are a little on the dark side, so I can just make out the circular rim through the fabric.
I run my hands through my hair to give it that ‘just rolled out of bed’ look, then pinch my cheeks for a little color. Perfect. With one last glance in the mirror, I head downstairs.
Ryder is sitting at the kitchen island with his broad back facing me. Only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, his muscular shoulders and tattooed arms are on full display. His attention is focused on the book I picked for him, per his request at the bookstore.
Damn. Men that read are so fucking sexy. And men that read romance? A whole other level.
I take my time, making sure to stretch a little higher than necessary as I reach for a mug from the cabinet. This causes my tank to ride up, exposing the under part of my boob. Cool air brushes against my skin, making goosebumps rise across my flesh.
Thankfully, the coffeepot is still hot and I pour myself a cup, take a small sip and let out a soft, satisfied moan.
Behind me, I hear a low growl and mentally give myself a fist bump before slowly turning around.
Ryder is staring me down, eyes full of fire.
His gaze drops to my chest, then quickly back to my face before he drags it from my toes to my tits. The intensity of how he is studying me makes my nipples tighten even harder against the thin fabric.
“What do you think you’re doing, kitten?” he growls.
