“I like that idea.” She runs her thumb along mine. “This has been an incredible night.”
“I’ll be off in a few days. We can get together again, if that works for you.”
“It does.”
I walk Sammy to the door of her parents' house and kiss her goodnight under the porch light like we’re teenagers. So quickly, I sink into the feel of her lips and her body pressed to mine. She runs her fingers through the back of my hair into my scalp. I'm left with a fresh wave of need.
“I better let you get inside,” I say. “I know you believe in digital detoxes, but do you also text?”
“I do plenty of texting.”
“Can I text you while I’m at the firehouse?”
“I'd love that.”
“And if you see anything suspicious here or at your place, or anywhere in town, you’ve got to let me know and call the police right away.”
“I promise I’ll be on full alert.”
We kiss again, holding each other tight. “Sleep tight, Sammy,” I say as we ease away.
“You, too, Brady.”
I stay on the porch until I see the lights come on inside. How am I going to make it through two days of not seeing her? Between worrying about her and wanting her, it’s going to be torture.
But, damn, I'm happy to have that kind of torture in my life.
Chapter Nine
“Honey,Ithinkit’sthe insurance guy,” Mom says, glancing out the dining-room window.
“I’ll be right there,” I call from the kitchen where I’m only halfway through the breakfast dishes because I keep stopping to text Brady.
Your place. Actually, your bed.I type into the message box. I hover over the send button. Am I being too forward? Is Brady going to think I’m throwing myself at him?
He asked where I wanted to go when he gets off firehouse duty tomorrow. He said we could do whatever I wanted. Not gonna lie. I want to do him.
I add a shy face emoji and delete it. I don’t need to feel shy. We've gone back and forth about those amazing hours we spent having sex at his place. Neither of us thought it’d be that good. We both want more.
I could put a heart emoji. But that would mean I’m thinking love thoughts, and we’re not going down that road. We’re friends who fuck. Friends with benefits.
We fit. It’s convenient.
I’m less heartbroken over Lara being hundreds of miles away. I’m not going insane by obsessing over every past encounter between my former best friend and former husband. Did they always have a thing for one another? Were there signs? Why now? Why not when we first divorced? Maybe they were seeing each other but only went public after I left LA?
He's a liar. Maybe she is, too.
And why was she the one who texted me? Why didn’t Mark tell me first?
Who fucking cares?
No need to obsess. I’ve got Brady.
I add a kissing emoji and press send. Sexy and cheeky. Light on feelings. Heavy on physical contact.
“Sammy,” Mom calls.
By the front door stands Trey, one of the nicer guys from the insurance company. We sit on the sofas in the back room, and Trey tells us about getting the video footage from the first fire. “Our analysts believe the person in the video is a woman.”
