Page 11 of That Emerald Vow

A few minutes later, when I myself am rummaging through my kitchen like a raccoon, I hear a ding from my notifications. I grab my phone, hoping it’s him. My body is filled with this bubbly excitement—something about him makes me want to engage and get to know him better. It’s like that feeling of meeting that person who just gets you without words. I’ve only ever had that feeling with one person in my life, Lily.

Damon:

Quite a handsome fella, isn’t he.

Me:

Definitely. Nicer to look at than his hayesome counterpart. Lol.

Damon:

Cause you weren’t staring at that hayesome face all night the other night. ;) I can tell when a woman finds me attractive, my little gem.

My cheeks flush at his comment—I was hoping he didn’t notice. He is definitely sexy in the most rugged yet boyish way. He looks like the devil incarnate with his grunge style clothes, medium-length straight hair, and my God, that huge, dimpled smile. I feel heat erupt down to my core imagining all that that mouth can probably do.

Ugh. I’m in such a dry spell. I definitely need to get laid.

Me:

Oh, baby, like you weren’t also checking me out every chance you got.

Damon:

Guilty as charged.

Me:

So about that drink? I’ll be honest, I’ve had a lousy start to my morning and need a good man to help relieve some of that tension.

Me:

NOT you. I see you typing. Calm down.

Me:

But I propose we go grab that drink and be each other’s wingman.

Damon:

Boo! You’re no fun! Lol. Kidding. That actually sounds perfect. Pick you up at 9?

Me:

I’m a lot of fun, baby. But you only get to see the fun girl in the streets, not the one in the sheets. You haven’t earned it yet.

Damon:

Oh, Char, I’m always up for a challenge. For now though, I’ll settle for helping each other. It’s gonna be fun.

Do I want him to be up for the challenge? I’m not sure. What I do know is that I need to choose the sexiest outfit. I’m ready for a night out on the prowl, where I can forget my looming family troubles.

The way the wind whips around me as I ride to pick up Charlie is my favorite feeling. A motorcycle may not be the most functional ride to take on a date—not that this is a date—but something tells me Charlie is going to love it. She has the twinkle in her eye that suggests she wants to live on the wild side. So when I walked to my garage, there was no question whether I was taking my bike or truck. There was one clear winner.

The purr of the engine masks my excitement as I slow down once I reach her street, coming to a halt in front of the white house with green trimmings. There’s something gnawing in the pit of my stomach that I’m not used to.Is that nerves?I haven’t felt nervous since I was a teenager and was worried about surviving day to day.

I get off the bike and place my helmet on the seat as I roll my neck to get rid of those feelings—refusing to let thoughts of the past ruin my night. Looking up towards the front door, I start making my way to knock, even though it’s not a date. I can’t say my mama raised me right, but I learned all the thingsnotto do from her and the people she brought around. The only sound is my boots on the walkway until I hear her front door opening before I even make it halfway.

My breath hitches in my throat as I look up at the beauty in front of me. Charlie is wearing a simple, skintight, deep blue shirt tucked into herskinny jeans and heels that extend her legs for days. She closes her front door and walks towards me, smirking as she puts on the worn leather jacket.

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