Rock Chick Reborn (Rock Chick #9)(20)

Or burst out crying.

Because there I was, Shirleen Jackson, fifty-three, with my history, being walked to her front door after the best date I’d had in my life.

“Uh, baby.”

Forced to do so due to manners, when Moses called, I turned my head.

Yep.

Best date of my life.

“You got the key?” he asked.

It was then, I didn’t know what came over me.

Well, I knew what came over me. I just didn’t know how I let it come over me.

You see, I tugged my hand free from his.

Then I put my hands to either side of his head and pulled it down to mine.

And I kissed him.

His beard was bristly.

But his lips were soft.

I slid my tongue between them.

Lord God, he tasted of panna cotta and man.

Nothing more beautiful had ever touched my tongue.

Overwhelmed by it, I shoved him back until he hit the side wall to the alcove that shadowed my front door, protecting it from the elements.

And I kissed the ever-lovin’ hell out of Moses Richardson.

Then suddenly I wasn’t kissing the ever-lovin’ hell out of him.

Even though I was pressed up to his big, solid body having shoved him into a wall, his arms were tight around me, his head had slanted, and he was kissing the ever-lovin’ hell out of me.

Oowee God!

Shirleen was dizzy!

Suddenly (and regrettably) I became conscious of the fact that I was a woman raising two boys and I had neighbors.

So I tore myself out of his arms, took a step back, and smoothed my dress down my hips.

“Uh . . .” I mumbled.

I found my jaw cupped by a big warm hand and a handsome face right in mine.

“How we feelin’ about watchin’ that movie on my couch?” he asked, the honey gone, all that was there was smooth gravel.

Lord.

“Um, I’m thinkin’, uh . . .”

I couldn’t finish because what I was thinking about was lying-down couch action and if one of the boys would miss it if I took a condom or two.

No, no, no. A woman did not steal condoms from her boys.

That was what drugstores were for.

And anyway, wasn’t that Moses’s territory?

I didn’t know. It had been too long.

And I wasn’t asking a Rock Chick as I’d decided I wasn’t speaking to them (any of them) for at least a week.

“We’ll pick a movie for both and decide Thursday,” he stated.

“Sounds like a plan,” I forced out.

“That was a nice kiss,” he murmured.

“Um, yeah,” I murmured back.

“Real nice.”

“Uh . . .”

His eyes started twinkling. “Never been body slammed into fake adobe before.”

My eyes narrowed.

His eyes roamed over my face and hair and the look in them changed.

“Fuck, could you get more perfect?” he whispered.

I went solid.

His gaze locked onto mine. “Don’t go back there.”

“Moses.”

“In the now.”

“I’m not—”

“In the now, right now, after that kiss, you bein’ so cute, you . . . are . . . perfect.”

Hell and damn.

I wanted to cry again.

He bent in, brushed his lips across the apple of my cheek and pulled away, dropping his hand from my jaw, and the loss of it felt like the loss of a limb.

I drew in a steadying breath.

He bent and nabbed the Minkoff clutch I hadn’t noticed I dropped.

“Please tell me there’s a key in there,” he joked, offering my bag to me.

I took it, opened it and slid the key out.

I held it up and showed it to him.

He took it from me and turned to the door.

Then Moses Richardson, like a gentleman, let me into my own house.

Of course, I had to push in to reach and punch in the code for the alarm that was beeping.

But still, the move was smooth.

And it was sweet.

Like honey.

Like Moses.

Standing just inside my door, I turned to him.

He moved close and rested a hand on my waist.

“Please don’t kiss me again,” I begged in a whisper.

“No way,” he replied. “I’d rather not meet your boys when I got you naked on the tile of your foyer.”

I huffed out a breath that I wanted to be a huff of irritation, but it was more a huff of relief because I didn’t want that either.

Though I did.

Just not the meeting my boys while it was happening part.

He knew what it was and smiled at me.

Then he bent in and I sucked in breath while he touched his lips to the skin right in front of my ear.

He pulled away.

“Great night, Shirleen. Perfect.”

“Mm-hmm,” was the only thing I trusted to move between my lips.

“Thursday, baby.”

I nodded.

His fingers at my waist gave me a squeeze.

After that, he turned and I watched him walk away.

He wasn’t as fabulous from the behind as from the front.

But it was a close call.

He got in his truck and gave me a finger flick before he pulled out.