Page 39 of Crave Me

“Did you not see the fight? He came out swinging.”

“God damn it. It’s the Lord’s Day, watch your mouths.”

Believe it or not, this is typical mealtime conversation. At least at my house, with my family. I have to say, the “hairy ass” comment gives Evan pause. But even with that little tidbit, it’s only when brunch and clean up are done that he tells me he needs to leave.

Even then, it’s like he doesn’t want to.

I walk him to his SUV, my fists balling into my heavy coat, wishing he didn’t have to go. God, what’s wrong with me? I just met the guy.

“You seem quiet,” he tells me.

“Are you saying I’m incapable of shutting my mouth?”

“Yes,” he says, making us both laugh.

We stop in front of his driver’s side door. “When can I see you, again?” he asks, gathering me into a cozy embrace.

“You still want to see me? After all that?” I turn my head in the direction of the house. The T.V. is blasting and I can still hear my family yapping away, trying to out-yell each other.

“I do,” he says.

He bends forward, kissing me sweetly. Well, it starts off sweet. But when it switches to something hotter and tastier, and my womanly parts tighten and tingle, I’m reminded why I’m so freaking tired and not exactly walking straight.

“You’re a great kisser,” I murmur when he pulls away.

“Mmm,” he responds, giving my jawline equal attention.

“With damn fine lips,” I add.

My breath catches when he reaches my ear. I did the same thing last night when he climbed on top of me, thrusting hard as he showered me with sultry kisses.

“I can’t have sex with you with my family inside,” I add when those damn fine lips trail down my throat.

“I think your brothers made that perfectly clear,” he mutters, nipping my chin.

He dips his mouth to the sweep of my neck, making me shudder. But when he straightens and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, I can’t help my smile.

I adjust my hold around his neck. “Do you want to stop by tomorrow night? I can’t cook, but we can order in.”

His features respond apologetically. “I can’t. I have a very busy week ahead, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” I say, thinking I know where this is headed.

“But I’d like to see you if I can.” His hands glide to my lower back. “I realize it’s not ideal, but I have some free time around lunch. I can’t leave the office, but we can order in, as you suggested.”

He’s trying, but I’m starting to doubt whether any of this can work. “I don’t know if I can. I’m working all week and only have a small break for lunch.” I shake my head. “I can’t make it to your office and back in time, let alone eat.”

“No?” I shake my head. “When you came by with my SUV, I assumed your schedule was more flexible,” he tells me.

“It’s not,” I admit. “I switched shifts with another rep to get you your ride.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Because I wanted to see you.”

Instead of smiling, he seems disappointed, his attention darting briefly toward the house. “Wren, I realize things have moved fast, and that we’re both busy. But if it’s possible, I’d like to give us a chance.” The air is cold enough to make our breaths visible, yet his hand is warm when it finds my cheek. “And I don’t want to go too long without seeing your smile.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll try.”

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