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“Oh my god, your nose.” I reach up to it self-consciously. “Is it that bad?” “No,” she says, shaking her head. “Just caught me by surprise. What happened? Did you try to pet another bear?”
“Yeah. He booped me on the nose, stronger than I banked on.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re still hot as fuck.”
“Am I interrupting?” “My conversation with Copper? Yes. I find it to be rude, but he won’t mind.”
“This is where I want to be.”
Turns out I don’t really know how to be alone. Being quiet with someone else sounds nice, though.”
It’s the kind of companionship I crave. It’s intimate without even trying. It’s one of the most peaceful afternoons I’ve ever enjoyed.
“Are you stalking me? Should I be concerned?” she says with a smug smile on her face as she pops one hip out. Fuck, she’s hot.
“Is it considered stalking if you like it?”
“Full cart you’ve got there, Sky. Didn’t realize you had room in your full fridge for all those bags of salad.” She deflects by teasing me. “If you were any good at stalking, you’d know exactly how much room I have in my fridge.” I give her my best give me a break look. “Listen, West. I like you. You’re a good friend, considering I’ve known you for all of four days.
I maneuver around my shopping cart without even thinking. With only a few steps, I’m standing right in front of her, my fingers nudging the brim of her hat back so I can see her face. She doesn’t flinch or move away. She only tips her head to stare up at me.
My tongue swipes out as I take a quick glance down at her mouth. That fucking mouth. “You look good, fancy face.”
I take the liberty of tracing the elegant swoop of her nose once more. “Perfect as ever.”
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I meant to check her nose, and here I am, in the middle of the grocery store, admiring her openly.
It’s ridiculous. We’re two single, consenting adults. If we want to kiss right here and now, we should.
But for once, I find myself thinking something serious might not be so bad.
“I made this, and if you make me eat it alone, it will be tragic and possibly the lowest point of my life.”
“The very lowest?” I nod solemnly. “The very lowest. I will eat the entire thing and have a shame spiral because my metabolism isn’t what it used to be. It will go straight to my thighs, and we both know how much you like those. You’d be saving me from myself.”
“You’re still thinking about me with my shirt off, aren’t you? Regretting not taking a photo?” “You’re a shameless flirt, Weston Belmont.” I grin and hit her with a cocky wink. “Thank you.”
And for one heartbeat, I’m back on that road with her body beneath me. I’m on a dark path behind the barn with her lips pressed to mine. I’m in a grocery store aisle, staring at her like nothing else exists.
I want to talk to her. I want to get to know her. I want to eat with her.
“I don’t get the sense that Bree would love the idea of us sharing lasagna.” I glance down at the pan in my hand and let out a low whistle. “It is a pretty sexy lasagna.”
Do I tell her I didn’t like the way her face fell when I told her about my current relationship status? Do I tell her I want to be free in every way the next time she decides to kiss me? Do I tell her I want there to be a next time? Or do I just say fuck it and kiss her myself?
So I tell her something that’s true. “Because I had a good reason to.”
“I’m going to pass on dinner…but save me a piece. I don’t like the idea of today being the lowest point in your life.” She steps back to shut the door. But not before adding, “And ruining a metabolism like that would be a damn shame.”
BREAKING NEWS: Weston Belmont eats entire lasagna and ruins his metabolism. Sources say it’s all Skylar Stone’s fault.
Ford grins from where he lounges like a king in his castle. “Is this album payback?” “Would it be off-putting for you if I said it was?” “Absolutely not.”
Ford just shrugs, looking suave and unaffected. “There’s a pretty famous song about not always getting what you want.” I chuckle at that. “They are relentless.” The man across from me leans forward, eyes flashing. “Skylar, they are irrelevant to me. I don’t owe them answers. I don’t care about being liked. They can contact me all they want. I will happily delete their messages.”
“Something stripped down. Something simple. Something…imperfect.
“Okay.” His hands slap his thighs. “We’ll reconvene next Monday. And I’ll bring my daughter, Cora. I promised her we’d work on this together. In fact, you were her pick. Is that all right?” A watery smile touches my lips. How utterly, painfully sweet of him to do this with her.
Each time, I’m less alarmed by the sight of myself. Each time, I like what I see just a little bit more.
After a couple of days, I don’t even miss my phone. Instead, I read an old bodice-ripper romance I find on a shelf in West’s living room within one day. When it’s over, I feel happy and optimistic. Something about that guaranteed happy ending cheers me up. And I realize scrolling my phone never made me feel that way.
I think what I’m finding is myself. And the knowledge that I won’t let what they’ve done to me stand.
Then he looks me up and down. Twice. His teeth strum across his full bottom lip and a low groan rumbles in his chest. My skin hums, my cheeks heat, and my stomach flips. “You look at all your friends like that, Belmont?”
Because even in a team shirt, color-blocked bowling shoes wedged between his arm and ribs, he’s hotter than any man I’ve ever seen. And I know it’s his steady sweetness that has me down bad. “Only you, fancy face.”
“Look. At. You.” He smirks, softly shaking his head as he saunters toward me. “Fan of the outfit?” He’s close enough now for me to catch his scent. He smells fresh. Like biting into a ripe pear. Like bergamot bodywash.
It makes me want to bite into him.
“But it’s these eyes I’m the biggest fan of. You look good. Rested.” His tongue makes a clucking noise. “You look ready to bring Rose Hill to its knees tonight.”
Even though my makeup is perfect and my tits are pushed up, this man is going on about my eyes? Suddenly, he’s the only one I want to bring to their knees.
When he makes no attempt to move away, I flatten my palm on his chest. His heartbeat accelerates, and I can’t help but lean in closer. Then I press a kiss to his cheek and murmur, “Good luck tonight,” before turning and darting into Rosie’s vehicle.
“You have lipstick on your face,” Ford deadpans from the driver’s seat beside me.
For a moment, I’m thrown back into the feel of her pressing up against me. The way her hand flattened against my chest tentatively.
But tonight, she stared me down. Feline eyes. Confident smirk. I tried not to be a creep and gawk at her, but it was hard to miss the swell of her breasts pushed up over the tight fucking outfit she was wearing. But if she were a suspect in a crime, I’d never be able to give the cops any clothing details for a sketch. I’d only be able to tell them about her eyes.
“Ugh. Are you being a weird fanboy right now?” “I’m not a weird fanboy. We’re friends.” “You look like a teenage girl who got kissed by a Jonas brother. Are you going to swoon? Not wash your face for a week?” “Get outta here.” I glance out the window, trying not to laugh. Ford is a mouthy prick, though. He doesn’t let up. “You gonna touch your cheek and make out with your hand later?” I punch him playfully this time, laughing while cussing him out. “Fuck you, man.” “I bet you’ll actually use your hand to—” “Choose your next words carefully.” I give him a warning glare, and he just laughs. “Oh
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“I’m not a fan. Emmy is a fan, and I take an interest in all the things my daughter likes.
“Okay, next time I’ll get Rosie to kiss my cheek with lipstick and we can show up matching.” “Gross, dude. That’s my sister.” “I said my cheek, not my—” “Just drive.”
“You’re a snoopy little bitch, you know that?” Ford mumbles, taking his turn to punch me on the shoulder.
I blink because Doris is totally misreading West and me. He definitely isn’t starry-eyed over me.
“It’s really nice to meet you, you know? I hope everyone has been on their best behavior. Let me know if anyone hasn’t. I’ll accidentally drop a ghost pepper in their dinner next time they’re in.”
“Does it have to do with the big hunk of a man you donated to the bowling team?” Tabitha’s teeth clench. “Rhys? He’s not a hunk. He’s an overgrown pain in my ass. I’d sooner donate him to the local crematorium than have him in town.”
