Page 15 of Happy Trails & Honey Pots

“AJ,” Zoe said his name in a warning, looking almost embarrassed that her son had made that request.

“Of course.” I smiled.

I took his phone and snapped several photos before wishing them both goodnight and leaving.

As I walked to the car, I told myself that if AJ hadn’t come down the stairs, there was no way I would have crossed the line with Zoe James. That would be totally inappropriate and probably unethical. I wanted to believe myself…. I just wasn’t sure I did.

7

ZOE

“Bag!”I shouted from the driver’s seat as the passenger door slammed.

AJ, who had already sprinted halfway across the parking lot, spun around as I pressed the button to roll down the passenger window from my driver’s side door. I twisted, reaching behind his seat, grabbing the duffle bag, and then pushing it through the window to him. Once it was in his arms, he ran to meet his team, who were already warming up on the field.

We were running late, as usual. I wished I was one of those perfect mothers who had orange slices in Tupperware, trail mix in zip-lock baggies, and Gatorade for her son’s games. Instead, I was crumpling up Taco Bell wrappers from the dinner we’d just grabbed in the drive-thru.

Today, I’d been running an extra beat behind from the moment I woke up, thanks to sleeping past my alarm. Last night had been spent tossing, turning, and sheet twisting. My body was exhausted, but my brain would not shut off. All I could think about was Miles Ford after he’d shown up on my doorstep.

I told myself it wasn’t my fault. He was a Hollywood star. He oozed charisma, charm, and sex appeal. But it wasn’t justhis appearance that had me flipping and flopping like a fish out of water in bed all night. It was his essence. His presence. The genuine connection he made when he talked with Walter and AJ. The sincere interest he showed in them as people. I had to keep reminding myself that it could just be part of his job since he was going to be playing Austin. But it felt so authentic.

My mind was more scrambled than the eggs in a Denny’s All-American Grand Slam breakfast.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the headrest. As soon as I did, a scene played in my head. A replay of the night before when Miles’ arm brushed mine as he helped me clear the plates. A thrill raced down my spine. It was the most innocent of contact but had me thinking not so innocent thoughts.

From the moment he walked into the house, even before that, when he was on the porch, his energy and aura overwhelmed me. He took upallthe space in the room. My body was acutely aware of him in a way I’d never been aware of another man before.

When we sat down to dinner, my body tuned into the rhythm ofhis breathing. I could sense his stare without even looking in his direction. As I sat in my car now, I could still feel it on me like a physical touch. Every time his eyes landed on me; my body lit up like a slot machine that hit the jackpot.

Goosebumps rose on my arms, and a tickle spread in my belly at the memory of him standing at my sink, washing dishes. The pendant light that hung above the island highlighted his broad back and the lines of his chiseled forearms. We didn’t make contact as we cleaned up after dinner, but somehow, it felt like foreplay.

Then, when he wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

Holy hot tamale! Just thinking about it now had me on the edge of coming. How was a single touch that potent? Last night,when I’d crawled into bed, I hadn’t even touched myself; all I’d done was think about that moment and squeeze my thighs together, and I’d orgasmed.

Why did the first man I was truly attracted to after all this time have to be my enemy? Or if not my enemy, the man who was playing my husband in a movie I didn’t want to be made. It wasn’t right.

If it was just attraction, that would be bad enough. But it was more than that. Last night in the kitchen, clearing the table and doing the dishes with him felt right. It felt more right than anything had in a long time.

When he said that I shouldn’t have to cook and clean and I asked, says who, and he said,me…I mean, come on, I needed a freaking swoon couch.

When he was talking about his mom, I sensed his vulnerability. His realness.

When he told me that last night was the best night he’d had in a long time.

When he thanked me for sharing my family with him, my heart cracked wide open.

I just had to keep reminding myself; he was an actor. What if everything I saw and felt last night was a performance?

A loud knock sounded at my window, and I jumped an inch off my seat and let out a shriek. When I turned, I saw Nadia and Ashley’s faces staring down at me. I wasn’t expecting them to come to the game tonight. Dawson and Harlan tried to make it to home games, but Ashley and Nadia usually only sat on bleachers for playoffs.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked as I grabbed my purse, opened the door, and stepped out.

“Why didn’tyoutell usMiles Happy Trails Hottie Fordhad dinner at your freaking house?!” Nadia was an inch from my face and had me pinned against the side of my car.

“And why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Ashley’s energy was less aggressive, but only slightly.

“Um, my phone must be dead.” I pulled it out of my purse, and sure enough, it had no life. It was DOA.

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