Getting a response from my mom almost immediately makes me smile, because all it is, is a sad face. Sage’s response takes longer, but his message lets me know he had to talk the guy down from going over to his wife’s co-worker’s house and going postal after he saw the photo evidence. I can’t imagine what the guy is feeling. He and his wife have two kids, both under the age of five, at home, and he now has to think about what to do regarding his marriage.
Typing a quick response, I let him know to check in with me once he is done filing the paperwork and closing out the case, then tell him I will be out with Ellie having breakfast. To that, he responds almost immediately with, Is she talking to you again? to which I responded, Fuck off. My cousins and Evan had been giving me shit all week about Ellie’s silent treatment, most of them staying out of my way, because they knew I was likely to blow at any minute.
I know she’s downstairs before I see or hear her when her smell wraps around my lungs. I’ve been with women who wear perfume like a coat of armor that’s overpowering and covers up their natural scent, but not Ellie. Her scent of vanilla and cherries is so subtle that I crave getting closer to her, wanting to pinpoint where the scent is located on her body, so I can breathe more of it in.
“Ready,” she says, walking into the kitchen then frowns, going over to the counter where I sat her coat and shirt. “How did this get here?” she asks, holding up her shirt.
“You took it off last night when you came home,” I say with a shrug, not wanting her to be embarrassed, but not wanting to lie either.
“I took it off down here, wi…with you here?” she whispers in horror, balling the shirt up in her hand.
Moving toward her, I take the shirt from her, laying it on the counter while placing my fingers under her jaw and tilting her head up until her eyes meet mine.
“I didn’t see anything more than what I would see if we went to a pool and you wore a bikini.”
“I don’t wear bikinis.” She closes her eyes. “I don’t even know how to swim.”
“We’ll add learning to swim to the list of things I’ll teach you,” I declare quietly.
“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs with her eyes still shut, moving her head back and forth and causing her hair to slide over my hand.
“Would you feel better if I took off my shirt?” I ask, pulling on her chin so she opens her eyes.
“I’ve seen you without your shirt,” she mutters as her cheeks turn pink.
“Well then, we’re even.” I smile. “Now, are you ready to go have breakfast?”
Pulling in a lungful of air, she lets it out slowly then nods.
“Good.” Smiling, I lean in before she can stop me, placing a soft kiss on her mouth. I move away without acknowledging her quick intake of breath or the way her eyes go half-mast, even though I really want to do it again to see if I can get the same reaction.
Handing over her coat, I grab the keys from the counter and head for the door, holding it open for her to go out before me. Then I wait, watching as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, pulls her jacket on, and then slides past me out the door, ducking her head as she moves to my truck.
“You’re driving, baby.” Her body turns toward me and I toss the Rover keys to her. She catches them, muttering something under her breath before stomping to the driver’s side, popping the locks, and getting in behind the wheel. Sliding into the passenger seat, I fight back my smile and the urge to pound my chest like some kind of caveman as she looks around the car. Her eyes sparkle with excitement and happiness, even though she tries to hide it as she starts up the car and moves her hands along the steering wheel.
“Do you think this would be a good time to tell you I don’t have my driver’s license?” she asks, putting the car in reverse, pressing the gas then braking hard, causing me to lurch forward before slamming back against my seat. Feeling my heart pound in my chest, I’m about to tell her we’ll add driving to the list, when she breaks into a fit of laughter that causes my chest to tighten.
Without thinking, I wrap my hand around the side of her head, tangling my fingers in her hair, and pull her towards me roughly, covering her mouth with mine and swallowing her laughter down my throat as I thrust my tongue into her mouth. Her hands on my chest that had started out pushing me away wrap around my shirt and pull me closer. Groaning as she whimpers, I start slowing down the kiss, swiping my tongue across hers once more, then pull her bottom lip into my mouth, giving it a tug and soft peck before reluctantly pulling my mouth away and placing my forehead against hers. Opening my eyes, I notice hers are still closed.
“That…that was wow,” she whispers, opening her eyes slowly and swallowing when our gazes connect. “Is it always like that?” she asks in a whisper.
Placing my other hand on the underside of her jaw, I mutter, “Never, baby.”
“We…um…” She looks away. “We should get breakfast,” she states after a long moment, slipping from my grasp, her eyes going to the windshield before looking at me once more. She shakes her head and places her fingers against her lips, taking a breath then shaking her head again.
“You taste like you smell,” I tell her, not wanting her to forget I’m here with her, that I’m still in the car, that just because my mouth isn’t on hers doesn’t mean I can’t still taste or feel her lips against mine, her hands wrapped around my shirt. Putting the car in reverse, she begins to back out without acknowledging my comment, which only eggs me on. I know she wants me as badly as I want her, and I refuse to let her ignore this thing brewing between us just because she’s afraid.
“I wonder if the rest of you tastes like that.” I smirk as she slams on the brakes, jolting the car. “You okay to drive, baby? I don’t mind taking over if you need time.”
“Jax,” she warns, turning to glare at me.
“Baby, unless you’re gonna give me something to eat at home,” I drop my eyes to her lap, “then take me to get food.” Lifting my gaze to hers, I watch her cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink that starts to spread down her neck.
“You really like embarrassing me, don’t you?” She frowns, breathing heavily, something that says she’s not embarrassed, but turned on.
“If you’re asking if I want to lick over the pink your skin turns to see if it has a flavor, then the answer is yes.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispers, covering her face with her hands.
Laughing, I pull her hands away from her face. “Okay, baby, I’ll stop.” Bringing one of her hands to my mouth and kissing it, I mutter, “Scout’s honor,” while holding up two fingers.
“I doubt you were ever a boy scout.” She rolls her eyes before looking over her shoulder and backing onto the street.
When we arrive at the restaurant, the place is packed, like it normally is on Saturday morning. You can tell by the crowd that most of the patrons were up late partying. Almost everyone has on sweats, and half are wearing sunglasses and holding coffee cups in their grasp, praying it cures the hangover they are suffering from. Placing my hand against Ellie’s lower back, I move us through the small restaurant to the back, where there is a free table for two, sitting close to the counter where you can watch the three cooks on the grill.
“Jax,” Jones, the owner and my friend, calls from behind the counter, where he’s stationed flipping eggs. Jones and I went to school together. He played football with me; his short, stocky build ruled the field every time he stepped onto the turf. He was our secret weapon. Hell, he still is.
“How’s it going, man?” I ask, pulling out Ellie’s chair for her to sit before taking my seat across from her, which gives me a view of the whole place.
“Can’t complain too much.” He smiles.
“You know you owe me ten on the Giants game, right?” I remind him, watching as he shakes his head, grinning.