Page 23 of Finally Moore

Fuck. I completely forgot about my mom and her stupid family dinner. “Probably not,” I huff and have to force myself to take a step back towards the bathroom. Because, right now, all I want to do is push Scott down on the couch and show him how grateful I am for his continued support. “If I’m being honest, I’m not even sure why I try. A full team of professional makeup artists could come in here and make me over, and that woman would still find a flaw.”

“She might need to check the prescription on those designer glasses of hers, because you’re beautiful,” he tells me, and I almost believe him.

Which has me freezing to the spot, unsure how to respond. I mean, what do you say to that?

Scott senses my awkwardness and clears his throat as he glances around. “Um, I’ll just wait… over here.” He plops down on the couch. “I’m going to… read a book.” He picks up a random title from the stack on the end table.

I eye his choice and chuckle to myself. “I never took you for a smut lover.”

Scott glances at the cover before shrugging. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

I find myself breathless as the weight of his statement hits me. “I’m… going to finish getting dressed.” I run to the bathroom and shut the door behind me, taking a moment to regain myself. The red dress hanging on the back of the door catches my eye, and a smile spreads across my face.

When, not if…

Hannah’s words take up residence in my mind, so I decide there’s nothing like living in the moment. With a new sense of confidence, I rush to finish shaving. The little mishap didn’t leave me much time, but luckily I’m a pro at a quick updo. Then I slip into the dress and put on the final touches of my red lipstick.

I step out of the bathroom, and sure enough, Scott is reading the book. I mean, actually reading it, not just staring at the pages. I watch as he nibbles on his bottom lip. And, well,damn, has this man always been this hot? Especially with those black frames resting on the bridge of his nose.

“When did you start wearing those?” I ask, pulling Scott’s attention from the book and up to me. And as though the glasses he’s presently sporting are allowing him to see me for the very first time, his eyes slowly travel up the length of my body.

“Fuck me,” he grumbles under his breath, and I send a silent thank you to Hannah.

Chapter nine

Scott

Astheradioinmy pickup softly plays holiday music in the background, filling what for me feels like the most suffocating silence of my life, I’ve come to the conclusion that Scarlett Valentine blocks all common sense from entering my brain and forces me to do the complete opposite of what a sane person would do in any given situation.

For starters, take the whole cat and fiancé debacle that kicked off this mess. Then her mother shows up to my place of business and orders me around like her personal assistant. And now, I walk into her home and find her naked, a pair of perfect creamy thighs spread just enough to leave me wondering and not nearly enough to settle the lingering curiosity. Curiosity I shouldn’t have when it comes to my baby sister’s friend.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved that she thought I was Hannah. For a brief moment, this irrational, jealous part I wasn’t aware I had within me took over. Instead of turning away, announcing my presence, leaving… I stayed, I watched, I lingered. And rather than redeeming myself, apologizing, setting things right… what did I do? I almost kissed her. Again.

Fuck, I wanted to do it so badly, and it might be wishful thinking, but I sensed that she wanted me too.Maybe I should?Maybe it would break this awkward tension between us. Then, once it’s over, we would realize that there’s nothing there and snuff out Tilly’s little spark of hope that Scarlett and I could be something more.

Unless it does the exact opposite?

I shake the thought from my mind. I can’t, well, shouldn’t. This situation is confusing enough. And, clearly, Scarlett has a lot going on with her family while mine has lost their damn minds. It’s better if we don’t. Regardless of what the outcome might be, right now doesn’t seem like the time to chance a major blowup.

Make it through Christmas, then maybe we can see?That’s probably for the best.

Hopefully I’m right and she’ll join me for New Year’s. I still need a date and that seems like a better time to figure outifthere is anything there and, more importantly, if it’s mutual.

Though it doesn’t help that she’s wearing a dress designed by the devil himself. Orherself. Because as my eyes travel from top to bottom, I’m nearly convinced that the devil must be a woman looking to torture mankind. The material is fitted in all the right places, as if to show you everything you’re missing beneath the shimmery fabric. And I swear the lipstick somehow makes Scarlett’s already pouty lips plumper. Begging me to suck the tender flesh between my teeth. The image of that same mouth wrapped around my…

Pull yourself together, Scott…

Fucking Jax and Tilly are getting into my head. That’s the problem. If it weren’t for them, it would be so much easier to ignore this voice in my head that keeps whisperingjust do it.It wasn’t all that long ago that the mere thought of Amanda and waiting for her was enough for me to swear off dating for the foreseeable future.

Now, it’s starting to sound a bit ridiculous. I already knew, even if I didn’t want to admit it out loud, that the chances were slim to none that she and I were going to work out. But even if the odds were stacked against me, the gamble seemed worth it, especially with no prospects of anything more than another atrocious waste of my time. And Scarlett, well, she seems like anything but a waste.

“So?” Scarlett asks.

My gaze flicks to the passenger seat, then back again. Even though she has her long black coat on, all I can see is that dress and what I shouldn’t have but nonetheless learned exists beneath it. “Huh?”

She laughs and my cock perks up. Bastard is against me. “Glasses, I’ve never seen you wear them before,” she repeats.

“Oh, yeah, these things.” I push them up my nose, already annoyed by their existence. “I hate wearing them. They always get in the way. Especially in the kitchen. They fog up and never stay in place, so there’s the whole food safety aspect of constantly touching my face, then having to wash my hands because of it. I can see well enough without them. But if I’m driving, especially at night, I need to have them on.”

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