Ignite (Cloverleigh Farms #6)(40)

And what the hell was I doing out here on the patio again?

What, argued a voice in my head. Can’t a guy have a beer on his patio without feeling guilty about it?

I frowned. Sure, he could. But why did I keep thinking about her? Glancing over toward her place? Listening for her to come home after work?

It was late—where was she? Meeting some selfish prick for dinner or drinks? Would she bring him back here and share a cupcake with him ten feet from me?

Don’t mind him, I imagined her saying to some twenty-five-year-old pin-dick fuckwit who owned a Rolex and multiple pairs of plaid shorts. That’s just the grouchy old man next door. He’s harmless.

I took another long swallow to wash down the jealousy. I’ll finish this beer, I told myself, and if she doesn’t come out here, I’ll go inside and forget about her for good.

Realistically, I knew I’d probably go in and get myself off thinking about her again, but whatever.

A moment later, the light came on in her place, her sliding door opened, and she stepped outside holding a plastic pitcher. After closing the door behind her, she began to water her plants. She wore a dress tonight, something short and flowery with skinny straps that showed off her shoulders, and her hair was up. Her feet were bare, and I wondered if she’d taken off her high heels after a date.

“Hey,” I said, standing up from my chair.

“Oh, hey,” she said, giggling nervously. “I didn’t see you there.”

“We need to stop meeting like this,” I joked.

“Nah. It’s always a nice surprise.” She gave me a smile that tightened my chest. “How was your day?”

“Good. How was yours? Any double bookings?”

“No, thank heavens. It was a perfectly boring day at reception.”

“Glad to hear it.” I leaned against the brick wall. “Do you always work this late?”

“No, I’m not coming from work just now. I was at Abelard meeting with my friend Ellie about an event we’re planning together. I’m really excited about it.”

“Tell me,” I said, happy she hadn’t been out with a guy.

She laughed nervously as she emptied the pitcher. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Straightening up, she turned toward me. “Okay. Want to sit down?”

I knew I should say no and get the fuck inside. But I heard myself say, “Sure. Why don’t you come sit on my patio this time? My furniture isn’t as nice as yours, but it’s my turn to host.”

She laughed and set her watering can down on the table. “Okay.”

“Can I get you a beer?”

“No, thanks.” She stopped at the edge of my little patio and gasped. “You decorated!”

“Hardly.” I glanced at the insect repellent candle. “But it’s so muggy out here after the rain last night, I knew the mosquitoes would be bad.”

“Let me turn off my light so it won’t attract them.” She hurried back to her place, switched off the light, and returned. The lights in my living room were already off, so it was completely dark except for the small yellow flame flickering on the table. I took a sip of my beer, and she crossed her legs in my direction.

“So what are you and your friend planning?”

“A wine tasting dinner,” she said, and proceeded to tell me all about it.

I listened, but I couldn’t have repeated one thing she said, because I was so conscious of her body and how close it was to mine. The way the candlelight brought out the gold in her hair. The way it might feel in my hands or trailing across my chest. I finished my beer and stared at the mouth of the bottle, wondering about the sounds she might make if I buried my tongue between her legs.

“Dex?”

I realized she’d asked me something, and I looked at her quickly. “Sorry, what?”

“God, I’ve been talking too much. I probably just bored you to pieces.”

“Not at all,” I told her. “I just got distracted for a minute.”

She glanced at the bottle in my hands. “What were you thinking about?”

The words came out before I could stop them. “Something I want to do but can’t.”

“Can’t?”

“Shouldn’t.”

A moment passed in complete silence, and I thought I’d gone too far. She stood up.

But instead of walking back to her place like I thought she might, she blew out the candle and stood in front of me. Then she reached for the bottle and set it at my feet.

I looked up at her. Without saying anything, she climbed onto my lap, one knee on either side of my thighs. I held my breath and gripped the arms of the chair.

She placed her palms on my chest. Locked eyes with me. “Something like this?”

My voice was nowhere to be found.

She leaned over and pressed her lips to the side of my neck. “Or like this?”

My cock was surging to life beneath her.

She moved one hand down to my crotch and rubbed the bulge in my jeans as her mouth swept up to my ear. “Or maybe like this?” she whispered.

My fingers curled around the edges of the plastic chair arms. “You should stop.”

“Why?”

“It’s dangerous to play with fire. And with firefighters.”