It’s official. I like this girl.
Something about her, I don’t know…seems innocent. Childlike. Yet, even with the distance between us, I sense an overwhelming amount of sadness. Her smile, no matter how genuine, just doesn’t seem to reach her eyes.
I start to ask more about her when I happen to glance over Harlow’s shoulder and notice a young man standing behind the bar. A full-fledged, drool worthy young man with an intensity in his eyes that is indescribable. His fierce gaze cemented to something or someone on the dance floor. I slowly follow in the direction of his stare, which leads me right back to Tatum. Very Interesting.
“Is that her boyfriend? The guy at the bar?” I dip my head in his direction. Harlow turns her body, not at all in a discreet manner, and after staring for an obscene amount of time, she repositions her body to face me. She waggles her eyebrows and I clear my throat to keep from laughing.
Trace, who has also turned around, twists back towards me. “No, that’s Noah. He’s the bar manager here. I’m surprised you haven’t met him yet.” He places his arm around Harlow, whose now mouthing the word hot and fanning herself. “He’s really a great kid, a lot of promise. Going to med school next year, last I heard. Definitely not her boyfriend.”
Harlow purses her lips. “Yeah, Tatum’s been seeing some douchebag. He’s a major loser, but it’s not like we can talk her out of it. The girl may be more stubborn than you, Alex…which is not meant to be a compliment.” She gives me a wink. Nice.
So the boy possessively watching her is not her boyfriend? Really? Very, very interesting.
Trace glances back to find Tatum, obviously making sure she’s staying out of trouble. But, something deep down inside of me knows that if she ever found herself in any distress, that boy...Noah, would be the first to respond. Even before Trace. I continue watching him, watching her as she dances with my babies. Hmm. My gut feeling is telling me something about these two.
Or maybe that’s the crab cake I just ate?
My eyes shift back and forth a couple of times between the two.
Nope, it’s them.
Just as I’m about to start making up background stories for them in my head to keep myself entertained, my attention is captured by a pair of light green eyes that call to me like a beacon through the crowd. I watch Blake gesture towards the office, the real office, and I shoot up so quickly out of my chair that the screech it makes on the floor causes Harlow to jump, and half her wine slushes out of her glass onto the table. She shoots me the evil eye.
“Serves you right, lush.” I push my chair under the table, making it squeal even louder just because I feel like irking her. Trace laughs out loud and she glares even harder at me, the narrowed eyes and tight lips only succeeding in making me giggle. I lean down, quietly whispering in her ear, “I’m going to see my man. I took your advice and found my happy ending. Be sure to give Trace his tonight.” Her face relaxes as she covers her mouth and giggles. Lush.
I can only shake my head before leaving them on their own. Most likely to do things I absolutely don’t want to think about.
Making my way through the crowd, I stop to offer several nice-to-meet-yous and thank-you-for-comings before finally making my way to the office. I breathe deeply through my nose in an attempt to calm my hormones, which seem to be raging all of a sudden. I run a quick hand check over my hair—not really sure why—and reach for the door. Finally letting the air in my lungs escape, I try to clear my mind of all the dirty thoughts that seem to be taking over my brain, but as I fling the door open, all control is lost. I find myself trying to reel that air back because all of a sudden I’m finding it very difficult to breath.
My eyes have latched themselves onto Blake, who’s leaning against the front of his desk, feet and arms crossed in front of him. He’s wearing that sexy lopsided smile that means only one thing; the one thing I haven’t been able to get off my mind since my first sight of him at the lake earlier this evening. My heart begins to race, my breathing picks up, finally, and my body begins pulsating with every previously evicted dirty thought breaking back into my mind.
I close the door quickly and lock it as soon as it shuts. Wearing my own sexy grin—at least I hope it’s sexy—my feet carry me to where he’s standing on their own accord. He uncrosses his legs and I step right in between them, pressing my waist against him, and placing my forearms onto the tops of his shoulders. Cupping his hands on my bottom, he pulls me closer to him, and my breath hitches in my throat. I feel him harden, and the pressure building between our bodies causes the insides of my thighs to throb.
Moving my hands to his lower back, I grab fistfuls of his nicely starched, now untucked, shirt and pull him close. He sucks in a ragged breath, and reaches down to hook my leg, hastily pulling it up to his waist.
My body falls forward, placing us as close as intimately possible, and the friction from the movement causes us both to gasp as the same time. We stare at each other, panting, eyes locked onto one another. Finally, after the most sexually stimulating standoff ever, he finally lowers his head and places his full lips on mine. I feel his mouth open and I graze my tongue along his teeth, teasing him. Still holding my leg, he moves his free arm around my waist, pulling me in as tightly as he can.
“Mommy! Are you in there? I need to tell you something!” Rylie bangs on the door. The heart that was previously thrumming from sexual need is now pounding inside my chest from near cardiac arrest.
I plant my head into Blake’s chest as he continues to slowly grind his body into mine. “Rylie! I’m talking to Blake! Can’t Harlow or Grandma Nancy help you?” I shout back. “Or anyone else in the freakin’ world…” I mutter into his shirt. I feel his shoulders begin to shake with laughter as my heart rate slowly returns to a normal speed.
“No, Mommy. I need to talk to you!” I hear her movements just outside the door and then silence. Good. Hopefully she decided to take this matter up with someone else.
“Mommy, I can see your feet,” she giggles. “How come you only have one foot?” Blake drops my leg and his shoulders shake even harder now as he unsuccessfully tries to contain his amusement with this situation. I let out a deep sigh.
“It’s not funny, Blake.” He runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a long breath, something he only does when frustrated, although usually it’s because of me. Still, he’s smiling, so that’s a good sign.
I hear the door jiggle and I turn to see Rylie’s little fingers waving at me from underneath. Blake lets out another laugh, clearly not as irritated as I am. “Oh, there’s your other foot! I didn’t see it before!”
Just as I’m about to let out a blood curdling scream, Blake places both hands on the sides of my face. “Look at me, Alex. It’s fine. We have all weekend. Go talk to her. You won’t see her for a couple of days.” I dramatically roll my eyes in response to his annoyingly cool demeanor.
“Fine. But this is entirely your fault, calling me in here for something we can’t finish.” Blake chuckles once again.
“Oh, we’ll finish. Multiple times.” Putting both hands on my shoulders, he turns my body towards the door. Reluctantly, I take the steps necessary to cease this wonderfully sensual moment and unlock the door, turning the handle to open it once I’m sure her fingers are in the clear.