Aaron got out of the truck and Samson bolted to him, eager for a new pair of hands to pet him. Aaron leaned to give him a scratch, then straightened, his eyes immediately landing on mine. His lips tilted in a smile meant only for me, and it sent a zing right through my core.
“Aaron, you’re a beast,” Ceci yelled.
Oh god. I was going to kill her, and then die myself. “Ceci!” I called. “Shut up!”
“What?” she said. “Am I wrong?”
Dying. I was dying. Mortified, I covered my face with my hands, then peeked through them as Jodi pin-balled into Aaron. He helped her into the minivan as Rick corralled Ceci into the front.
Finally, Rick reversed the car out of my driveway and Aaron turned to me, his eyes twinkling. “A beast, huh? Exactly what did you tell those two?”
“What gets said on this porch stays on this porch,” I answered playfully. “So I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Is that so?” he said, his voice dropping low.
I nodded, my mouth going dry as he stalked to me, his eyes darkening with every step. Without a word, he crowded me, walking me backwards, until my back pressed against the screen door. My body heated as he caged me with his arms, getting so close I had to tilt my head up to look at him. His irises were a storm, dark blue mixing in with the gray. He dipped his head and I breathed him in, dizzy with want.
“Did you tell them how I made you come, Devon?” he asked, his voice husky and deep. His mouth hovered above mine. “Where my hands were? What my tongue did?”
Jesus Christ. I closed my eyes and groaned.
His lips captured mine, insistent and greedy. He wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me to him, and I melted against his body. We matched like puzzle pieces, fitting into each other, hard against soft, silently giving and taking. He tilted my head as I pushed a hand into his hair, which was just long enough for me to grip it. He growled.
I wrenched away and gasped. “The things I’m going to do to you when my mouth can open,” I grit out.
His tightened his hands around my waist and closed his eyes, clenching his jaw and seeming to try to get control of himself. After a moment, he let go. “You’re going to kill me before then.”
I grinned naughtily. “Same.” I stepped away from him and blew out the candles, then grabbed the empty glasses. “Come inside?”
He nodded, then opened the screen and front doors for me.
Naturally, I stumbled on my way in. He stepped forward and grabbed my arm to steady me. “Just how drunk are you?”
I leaned into him to feel his warmth and hummed. “A teensy little bit,” I admitted.
“Let’s get you upstairs.” He took the glasses from me and set them on the coffee table. “I’ll clean up.”
“What? No,” I said, attempting to move around him and failing miserably.
He laughed softly. “Come on. I’ll just tidy things, not scrub your kitchen sink. Okay?”
I’d like to think that it was drunkenness that caused me to sway lightly as I stared at his gorgeous face. But. It was probably the offer to clean.
Also, was it the tequila that had me this flushed, or was it him?
I grinned.
He laughed louder, a deep belly-laugh that sent shivers up and down my spine. “You’re a mess. Come on, sweetheart. Up you go.”
I grabbed the battery-powered lantern at the foot of the stairs with a flourish and turned it on, then let him lead me upstairs and to my bedroom.
“Also, super-bad news,” I said. “Wires are on indefinitely.”
He grinned wolfishly. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have fun other ways.”
My body flushed and I stumbled over a step. He caught me, his laugh a low rumble, and pulled me closer.
Once we got to my room, I sat the lantern inside the doorway.
“Um, Devon?”
I hummed.
“Did Barbie decorate this room?”
I swept the room, taking in the deep pink comforter and light pink walls, the white dresser and bed frame. Honestly, at this point, it was the only room not a complete shit show. “I liked pink growing up,” I sniffed. “And Gigi never did anything halfway.”
“You’re adorable.” He turned me to him.
“And you’re smoking hot.” It was late, I was maybe a little drunker than I was going to admit, and I was tired of being careful. Careful not to let anyone get too close. Careful not to let myself get too close. Careful to keep the memory of my dead husband wrapped around me like a security blanket.
What if I tried it? Tried letting myself live for more than just the moment, and opened myself up to actually feel something?
Aaron pulled me to him. “Smoking hot, huh?” he repeated, his eyes dancing.
I nodded like a bobblehead. “Yep. And….”
He tilted his head and studied me. “And?”
