She was still in the same clothes she’d been wearing earlier—sad for Eli, no matching bra and panties for him today. But after the incident at the diner, she’d thrown herself into B and B things, including looking at website proofs, which were fan-freaking-tastic, and choosing the stain for her deck, which was very nearly done because a whole team of burly men could handle decks like no one’s business.
She hummed as she set the glasses on the old-fashioned captain’s trunk she was using for a coffee table and sat on the couch, her feet tucked up under her.
And for one heart-crinkling moment she really wanted Eli to just come and sit next to her. To release his stress while she let go of hers. To share in a calm moment.
She blinked. No. That wasn’t what this was about. It wasn’t supposed to be about sharing emotions. It was supposed to be about sharing nakedness and orgasms.
The heavy knock on her front door saved her from her thoughts. “It’s open!” she shouted.
She heard the door open, then close, the heavy shoes on the wood floor, and finally Eli appeared in the living room entryway.
“Hiya,” she said, surveying his tall, lean frame. He’d changed. Dark jeans conforming to muscular thighs, a tight black T-shirt giving hints of all the fun that lay beneath the fabric.
“Hi,” he said.
“You can come in,” she said, patting the empty spot beside her.
“Right.” He cast a long look at a sleeping Toby, who was in the chair he’d claimed as his own, before walking across the room and joining her on the couch, keeping a healthy distance between them.
“Wine?” she asked.
“I don’t really care for it.”
Well, dammit. There went her merlot-flavored fantasy. She’d just drink enough for both of them. “Well, I hope you don’t mind if I drink,” she said, tugging the already-popped cork out. She poured herself a generous amount, then picked the glass up and clinked the edge against the empty one still sitting on the trunk. “Cheers to me, then.” She took a sip and sat back, feeling distinctly broody now. Because she’d gotten a picture in her head that shouldn’t have been there, and now she was disappointed for him not conforming to said ill-advised picture.
“Are you mad at me now?” he asked.
She looked up over her glass and at him, at serious brown eyes that made her stomach do tricks. “A little.”
“Why?” he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up.
There was her smile. A small one, but she’d gotten it. “Because you were supposed to drink wine and be cozy with me.”
“That doesn’t sound like what we agreed on,” he said, his tone gentle. Why was he being so nice? She was trying to be peeved.
“No, I know it doesn’t. But I was sort of hoping for it. Because I am a fickle and difficult creature.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“You weren’t supposed to agree so readily.”
“Sadie,” he said, his dark eyes burning hotter now. He reached out and gently touched her glass, lowering it. “You know what this is.”
“I know,” she said. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Then why are you angry?”
“Because,” she said, setting her wineglass down on the trunk and standing, moving over to where Eli sat and standing in front of him, “I had a little fantasy.”
“Did you?” he asked, his focus sharpening.
“Mmm-hmm.” She put her knee on the couch, next to his thigh, and then the other one, straddling his lap. “It had to do with getting you to relax a little.”
“This is not the way to relax me,” he said, putting his hands on her hips. “You realize that, right?”
“I was going to relax you,” she said. “Lick the wine flavor off your lips.” She leaned in and traced the outline of his top lip with the tip of her tongue. “But I have to say you taste pretty good all on your own.”
He took a deep breath, his hold on her tightening, his head falling back. “You’re dangerous. Do you know that?”
“I’ve never been accused of being dangerous.” She planted her hands on his chest and leaned forward, kissing him hard. “Flaky. Fun. Fluttery. Lots of F words, none too naughty. Never dangerous.”
“Then the men you’ve been with before were blind.”
“Or maybe we just didn’t have this kind of chemistry. It’s definitely a little bit more combustible than the norm.”
“True,” he said, sliding his hand upward, forking his fingers through her hair, his thumb teasing the edge of her lips. “You still mad at me?”
“Not really,” she said.
“Good. Because I didn’t come here to fight.”
“I’m hoping you came for another one of those F words.”
“Yep,” he said, “and I stand by my original statement. You, Sadie Miller, are dangerous as hell.”
“You’re not exactly a kitten, Deputy Garrett.” She arched her hips forward and gasped as she came into contact with his erection, rock-hard and obviously ready for her.
Really, she was becoming less and less disappointed in the loss of her brief domestic fantasy.
