Page 15 of Scent of Home

I haven’t seen Locke’s phone. I wonder if he ditched it. It’s possible.

I’m so lost in thoughts, staring at him, that I haven’t really taken him in. But as he swaggers towards me, I lift my eyes and suck in air. He’s wearing a simple t-shirt with a white design across the front. It’s long sleeved and clings to his chest. His blue jeans hug his ass but aren’t tight, and he’s only wearing his rings. He pulls that leather jacket back on, and my brain just short circuits.

He looks like I want to invite him into the bed and stay there for the next week.

“Shall we go?” His voice is tinged with amusement.

I tear my gaze from his and nod shortly. “Yup, let’s go get food. Let’s go eat.”

Locke laughs at my flustered words, but I just walk out of the cabin, needing air and distance. Fuck.

Why is this guy so damn attractive? But despite the attraction, there is something warning me off, and I almost never ignore my instincts, so I hold back, refusing to outright proposition him.

He walks behind me, and I can almost feel his stare. Everything between us is supercharged with sexual tension. We get back to the big house and find it alight: candles, music, lights, people. It’s a hive of activity. Several more cars are parked in the carpark now. And there’s music in the air.

I push open the door, glancing back at Locke, and step inside. Finn looks up from a conversation he’s having with a little old woman with white hair and grins.

“You came. I wasn’t sure you’d be up for it,” he shouts with a wave.

“We did. We’re here. Ready to be fed,” Locke purrs and waves his fingers at the old lady, who blushes bright red and smiles widely.

Finn excuses himself from the lady with a kiss on her cheek and comes to us. Locke steps to the side, but Finn ignores him and grabs my elbow.

“Our chef is talented, amazing! You’re going to love the food.”

I peer up at him. Finn is model sexy. His blue shirt is clean and suits his eyes, and he wears a simple pair of blue jeans with it. His face isn’t beautiful but striking. The calm he exudes is strange. I find myself wanting to lean into him. But I really am not liking the way he’s ignoring Locke.

“Join us,” Locke says with a challenging lift of his chin.

Finn hesitates and looks between us. “If that’s okay with you, I can join you this evening.”

“Of course, it’s okay. Join us,” I say in amusement, letting this display of manhood play out. I’m not sure who is winning, but I think Locke won that round.

He leads us inside and up to a private booth that has a pretense of privacy as it’s a little out of sight. I discreetly gesture to Locke, and he takes the seat at the end. I sit beside him, and Finn takes the one opposite me.

“What do you like?”

He hands me a menu. I look over it and hum in appreciation.

“It all looks good.”

“Ah, let me order for you?” Finn purrs. “Please?”

I glance up at him. That confident smile tells me to trust him. Locke shrugs.

“I’m allergic to bananas, but that’s it.”

“I’ve got no allergies.” Locke pipes up and looks between us with a grin. My feral companion is getting mad. I can feel it in the air. He doesn’t like being ignored.

I widen my eyes in warning at him, but he simply laughs, and then puts a hand on my thigh, just above the knee.

“Locke?” I say in a hushed demand.

He grins, blinks innocently at the jug of water, and gestures to it. “That’s an interesting jug.”

“It’s a jug,” I growl.

He drags his hand up my thigh and squeezes.

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