After We Fall (Take the Fall, #3)(35)

“What about a guy in law enforcement?”

“Finally letting the inevitable happen, huh?” She sits up, placing the magazine beside her. “What changed your mind?”

Turning to face her, I start pulling at my knuckles. “Phone call from my ex sent me over the edge and Hunter helped me out.”

“Oh.” She pushes her glasses back in place. “Does your ex call you a lot?”

I shake my head and stop pulling at my knuckles. Crossing the room, I sit down next to her. “No, but when he does…it’s awful. He reminds me of our failed marriage, or rather how I made our marriage a failed one.”

“He sounds like a winner.” She grimaces. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know what you meant.” Leaning over, I snatch a fortune cookie off the table and break it open, eating the pieces as it crumbles around the paper in the center.

“Hunter is a catch, and I do mean it like that,” she admits. “If he were attracted to me and you didn’t want him, then I would totally win him over to my dark side.”

“You have a dark side?”

She tilts her head to one side. “I do have cookies.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That makes me want to come to the dark side.”

“My cookies aren’t for you,” she says with a grin and nudges me with her elbow. “Read your fortune, lady.”

THE FUTURE IS WHAT YOU MAKE OF IT. I toss the slip of paper on the table, watching as it floats slowly to land on a half-empty container of steamed rice.

“That’s not a fortune,” she points out.

I settle into the cushions, considering all the steps I’ve taken to change my future and not live in the past anymore. “But it is good advice.”

—

The next morning, I decide to text Hunter to ask him out. This approach has to be a million times better than my chipmunk impression. Plus, texting puts less pressure on the situation and it gives both of us the chance to save face. For all I know, when Hunter went out last night, he could have found a woman with a heck of a lot fewer problems.

Me: Up for pizza tonight at my place?

I place my phone on the counter and finish getting dressed for work. As I’m dabbing on some clear lip gloss, I hear my phone ding.

My heart almost stops.

He’s already replied to me! is my first thought. But it’s quickly followed by an it-could-be-a-reminder-to-pay-my-wireless-bill-on-the-tenth instead.

Either way, I find myself rushing from the bathroom to the kitchen, nearly breathless with anticipation.

Hunter: Working until 7 pm. Mind eating later than that?

Me: No. How about 7:30?

Hunter: See you then. I’ll bring beer as my contribution to dinner.

My heart flutters all the way to work. It didn’t even feel like I was driving, more like flying.

A goofy smile covers my face as I walk inside. Saylor takes one look at me and gives a surreptitious thumbs-up. Since she’s talking with clients, I can’t barge over there to tell her my news. But I want to. I’m practically giddy.

Over a date.

Half a decade has passed since I’ve been giddy over a date with a man. The feeling is oddly satisfying. Freeing, even.

As the morning passes, I struggle to stay focused on my tasks, but I don’t think the dogs mind. Well, the little dogs anyway. They got the big dogs’ portions and vice versa.

“Those red hearts getting to you?” Saylor asks, helping me switch out bowls.

“No, but if you have stars…watch out.”

She gives me an odd look. “Did you get some after I left?”

My mouth falls open and I sputter. “No, did you?”

A dark brow arches over her glasses. “A lady never tells.”

“Touché.”

“But I’m not a lady.”

“You really don’t have to tell me.”

She grins. “I didn’t get any, either.”

“Maybe bake different cookies next time?” I suggest.

Saylor arches a brow. “Or find a man who likes all my cookies.”

—

Tonight, I am as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs while I wait for Hunter to come over. He texted me about fifteen minutes ago to let me know that he needed to jump in the shower first.

My mind begins to wander, imagining Hunter under the spray of the water, soaping up his chest and hard abs. Running his hands over his arms and then down his legs, touching himself. Then I’m in the shower with him, helping him rinse off and licking drops of water off his nipples. Pushing him down onto the shower seat, I’ll oh so conveniently have to straddle his legs before taking his cock into my hands and pushing him inside—

There’s a knock at the door, followed by “It’s me.”

“Com—coming!” My body is hot and bothered. My clit is throbbing and my nipples are tight. There’s no way I can answer the door like this. “Just a second—have to wash my…uh, hands.”

“I’ll be right here waiting.” There’s a bit of humor in his tone. He must have had a good day at work, I think, as I dash to the kitchen sink and begin to actually wash my hands. No way I can lie to a cop. Right before I grab a towel, I splash a bit of cold water on my face and the back of my neck.