Page 51 of When the Time Is Right
It was the craziest thing. This wasn’t a date with Lex. Far from it, actually, but there was a distinct buzz of nerves as I walked down her sidewalk to pick her up. And the second she opened her front door wearing a little black dress, her red hair cascading over her bare shoulders in thick waves, and a pair of black strappy heels, that buzz turned into an all-out earthquake.
“Hey,” she chirped, dragging the small diamond at her throat back and forth across the silver chain.
Do not look at her cleavage. Do not look at her cleavage. Do not look at her cleavage.
“Hey,” I replied, staring at her eyes so hard that tears formed in the corners of mine from a lack of blinking.
She cocked her head to the side and leveled me with a glare. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I cut my gaze over her shoulder and took a minute to appraise the expert brickwork my guy had done beside her door, all the while cussing myself for not having jerked off in the shower. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about?”
She let out a sigh. “Would you stop being weird and just look at my boobs already? It’s not like you didn’t check them out on the regular before last night. I thought we were supposed to be normal tonight.”
My gaze snapped back to hers. “What? I did not check out your boobs on the regular.”
She twisted her lips and looped a small, black clutch around her wrist. “Uh, yeah, you did. I always just assumed you weren’t breastfed enough as a baby or something. Though, looking back, you did always smile when I caught you. I should have seen your obsession for me coming.”
“I did not look at your boobs!” I defended again, but I’d be damned if my gaze didn’t drop. And before I could stop it, an involuntary smile tipped my lips.
“There it is.” She patted me on the chest as she headed toward my truck, calling over her shoulder, “Good to have you back, Hud.”
“Damn it,” I mumbled, following after her.
I smiled when I looked at her chest? That shit was not normal. I’d had a baby with Lauren and last time she’d worn a low-cut shirt, I’d thrown a hoodie at her. No smiling involved. Jesus, how long had I been harboring this shit for Lex?
I went straight to the passenger side door, barely able to grab the handle before she did, and tried to open the door for her.
“Nope,” she said, jumping back as if I had a leprosy flare-up again. “You opening doors for me is not normal. You coming to the door instead of honking when you got here was already testing the limits.”
Shit. She was right there too.
“What happened to us not talking about this? I’m pretty sure that was part of the deal we made.”
“I wouldn’t have to talk about this if you weren’t acting like my eleventh-grade prom date out of nowhere.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go on. Get in on your side. And try to think of something rude to say when I get in. That’s normal, Hudson. Not this crap.”
I didn’t want to say something rude though. I wanted to kiss her and tell her she looked beautiful and maybe, definitely, probably, sneak a few peeks down her shirt while we laughed over dinner.
I didn’t want Lauren to be there or Investment Banker Mark.
I just wanted Lex, and yes, I did realize that was not our usual normal.
But damn if it didn’t feel right.
A few days—that was all I’d promised her. A few days and we could talk. A few days and maybe we could get on the same page, hopefully one where I got to taste her again.
Until then, though, the old normal was going to have to suffice.
I walked around the truck, climbed in, and patiently waited for her to open her own damn door. I pretended not to see the way she closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath before plastering on a smile.
“Buster, I’m waiting,” she said, sliding into my passenger seat the way she’d done so many times in the past.
“What the hell are you wearing?” I rumbled. “Jesus, Kid, did you need industrial lubricant to slip into that dress?”
Why did I have to say lubricant? That was not helping me in the fucking slightest.
She smiled and put her seat belt on. “Oh, you’re one to talk. You look like that cockroach guy from Men in Black who didn’t know how to walk around in a human body.”
I barked a loud laugh, and I had to give her credit. It did feel normal, even if I did have to fight the urge to lean over and trace the curve of her delicate collarbone with the tip of my tongue.
