Ready for You (Ready #3)(24)

And then, everything had gone to shit.

Memories had come racing back in a flash, firing through my brain like a pistol. I couldn’t get out of that bar fast enough. I’d made some lame excuse to Kara and bailed. I’d needed air and space, space from Mia.

Yet, here I was, not even twelve hours later.

It had taken forever for me to fall asleep, and when I had, I’d dreamed of her. This wasn’t a new thing for me. When I slept, I always dreamed of Mia. But last night, I hadn’t dreamed of eighteen-year-old Mia leaving me in that crowded football field after graduation. I’d dreamed of grown-up Mia—the Mia who had worn a tight black skirt and sang with a seductive huskiness that made me ache with need.

In my dream, I hadn’t pulled away. I’d kissed her and taken what was rightfully mine. In my dream, I hadn’t stopped, and I sure as shit hadn’t told her to go home. No, in my sleep, I’d dreamed of bringing her home where I had spent hours making her remember every touch, taste, and feel my body had to offer.

I’d woken up covered in sweat and sporting the biggest hard-on of my life. Groaning, I’d jumped out of bed and gotten in the shower. Hissing as my hand reached for my cock, I’d pictured her, and I’d fisted myself over and over, remembering how she looked when I sent her over the edge. As I had cried out her name in my release, I had known I would want her until the day I died.

No matter what she’d done in our past, I would always want her. I could turn away and show restraint a thousand times, and it would never lessen the hunger I had for that woman.

Before I’d had another thought, I was dressed and in the car, driving to her house.

It wasn’t until I’d driven up to the curb that I’d realized it was barely eight in the morning, and I’d had no excuse for being there.

Then, I’d remembered the dog.

She needed a dog, and I’d take her to get one. Friends did that, right? We could be friends.

By the time I’d reached the door, I’d convinced myself that my need could be tamed with friendship. If I needed to be around her, I would be her friend.

Go home, Mia.

I remembered my angry snarl in the bar and her hurt expression. Did she go home? I didn’t have a right in the world to order her around, but at the moment, I had been livid. I’d been livid at myself for wanting her and angry with her for being so damn desirable. If I couldn’t have her, neither could anyone else. So, I had told her to go home.

Childish? Maybe. So, I’m an ass**le. Whatever.

As I’d raised my hand to knock on the door this morning, I’d suddenly feared that she hadn’t listened. What if she’d lashed out and found the first guy she could and taken him home?

Anger could do strange things to one’s mind, and when I had seen her as she opened the door, I had been ready to murder the bastard inside who had been lucky enough to touch her. I hadn’t calmed down until about five minutes later when I finished scrambling the eggs and hadn’t heard any movements above.

I was going psycho. This woman was making me insane.

The woman in question breezed past me and entered the living room. The smell of oranges followed her, and I tried not to think about how much that scent affected me. She’d changed into a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. The fact that no bra straps were peeking out made me nearly groan out in frustration.

No bra. Awesome.

“You ready?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow in my direction.

There were so many possibilities with that question, but I went with the high road and settled with a nod.

I followed her out, and she paused a moment to lock her front door before we climbed into my SUV. She sat awkwardly next to me and fiddled with the ring on her right hand while I pulled away from the curb.

“That’s a beautiful ring. Did someone special buy it for you?” I asked.

I was fishing for information. She’d been back less than a month, and I didn’t know anything about her, other than what I’d observed.

“What? Oh, um…no. I bought it in New Orleans a few years ago.”

“You’ve been to NOLA, huh?”

She swallowed and made a noise that must have been a yes. “I went for a business trip. It’s beautiful.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said absently.

“You haven’t done much traveling?” she asked.

“I travel for work but not much beyond that. I’ve been all over the Midwest, and up and down the East Coast, but that’s about it. We have territories, and mine has changed a bit over the last few years, but it has still stayed relatively boring. Nothing as exciting as New Orleans.”

More awkward silence filled the small space, and I played around with the air-conditioner knob, trying to make it cooler. It was summer, and the inside of the car was about a million degrees.

After another minute or two, she commented, “Your date seemed nice. She was very pretty.”

“Oh, that was Kara. Yeah, she’s nice, but she wasn’t my date. She’s a coworker.”

“Oh,” was all she said.

Then, I announced our arrival at the animal shelter.

The employee had just flipped the sign, officially opening for business, when we walked through. With two stories, this very modern-looking animal shelter was large and well-funded. They housed many of Richmond’s abandoned cats and dogs.