“The um—well, what part?” I sounded like an idiot, but the way his hooded, sunglasses stare bore into me made me nervous as all hell.
“All of it. Whatever you want. I could show you around—I mean, well, you could take me around and I’ll tell you about what it means to me. I could take you to dinner too, if you wanted.”
I smiled, warmth igniting in my chest. “I would like that very much.”
He dipped his mouth toward mine and I kissed him, slow and sensual, enjoying the high I felt in his arms.
“How ‘bout I pick you up right here around six-ish?” he asked as he pulled away enough to utter the words.
“Sounds good. Oh God, what should I wear?” The question was more for me than him, but he chuckled and answered anyway.
A wry grin came to his lips. “It don’t matter to me, it all looks the same anyways. Wear what makes you comfortable.”
I couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped me. It was going to take me a minute to get used to how casually he talked about his blindness. But he was right. It was a part of him. “You would think that would make it easier, but it doesn’t.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Don’t overthink it, darlin’.”
I blew out a nervous laugh. “Ha! You might not have noticed yet, but overthinking is basically my entire personality.”
He laughed, a low, deep, genuine sound that made my stomach do somersaults of excitement. “Well, I’ve always been partial to sundresses.” His hand holding me against him slid down the small of my back and over the swell of my ass. Leaning in, he rumbled, “The shorter the better.”
My head fell back, a husky laugh floating out of me as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. “I think I can make that happen.”
“Good.” His mouth descended on mine, and I didn’t even mind that it was only 5:30 in the morning and it already felt so hot it was like I’d stepped into a bowl of soup. I got lost in Hux—in his touch, his scent, his taste. In that moment, it was just him and I. Nothing mattered, nothing existed but us.
“Ahem.”
I startled at the sound of the masculine voice off to my right. Lurching back a step, but still wrapped in Hux’s embrace, I glanced down the steps of the front porch to find my dad watching us. He’d thankfully traded in the obnoxious cowboy getup for something more familiar—one of his sleeveless t-shirts and a pair of workout shorts. He’d always been a jogger and an early riser. It was good to see that, at least, some things didn’t change about him.
“Quinn, you’re up early.” His hard gaze landed on me, and I knew we’d be having aconversationlater. But something darkened in his eyes as he glanced at Hux. “Huxson…shouldn’t you be working?”
I scowled, my eyes narrowing to slits at his harsh tone.
Hux released me and nodded in my dad’s direction. “I was just on my way to feed, sir.”
“Well, I suggest you see to it.” There was a layer of coldness to his words that he rarely ever used.
Anger bristled in my chest at my dad’s callous tone. I mean, I’m sure it was probably a shock to see his daughter making out with one of his employees, but really, did he have to be such a dick about it?
Hux made his way slowly down the steps, each footfall measured and unhurried—it still amazed me how he could manage so easily without a walking cane. Turning back once he got to the bottom of the porch steps, he called out, “See you tonight, Miss Quinn.”
I smiled. The way he said my name…it made my knees weak. “Have a good day!”
I waited until Hux was out of earshot before I glared at my dad. “Really, Dad? ‘I suggest youseeto it? Don’t you think that was a bit, I don’t know,tone deaf?”
He scoffed, pushing his sweaty, sandy locks back off his head. “What? It’s just a figure of speech.”
“Why were you so rude to him?” I sighed.
“I wasn’t. I could’ve written him up for being late.” Again with the harsh, cold words. Again, I didn’t understand.
“Really?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s not even 6 AM on a Sunday, who cares if he’s a couple minutes late?”
My dad wiped at his brow with the back of his arm. “What kind of precedent does that set for the other hands? It isn’t fair for me to just give out handouts because of his…”
“His disability? It’s called accommodations, Dad. Which he has every right to. He manages to do all of this without even seeing, cut the guy some damn slack! Besides, since when are you a stickler for the rules? Aren’t you the one who used to always say that the rules are more like strong suggestions? That they’re meant to be bent…maybe even broken?”
He sighed, and for a moment I thought I’d gotten through to him, but when he leveled me with a fierce, determined stare, I realized there was no winning this fight. I was familiar with a losing battle when I saw one. “I don’t want you seeing him, Quinn.”
