Page 26 of Bourbon & Bonfires

“We stopped for yogurt. We weren’t sure what you’d like so we went with something safe—vanilla and chocolate swirl, chocolate chips, hot fudge, and whipped cream,” I reply while holding out the cardboard cup.

“No cherry?”

“Uh, what?”

“Cherry? No cherry? I freaking love cherries,” she says as she dips her spoon into the whipped cream and slowly pulls the spoon from her mouth.

Is she fucking kidding me? I’m going to have the hardest dick in the county in about ten seconds if she does that again or says the wordcherry.

“I have a cherry on mine, you can have it.” I’m such a moron.

“I’ll never turn down a cherry. Why don’t you come in and eat these with us?”

I have no words. My mouth is like the damn Sahara Desert, and my dick is about to spring into action with her tight tank, perfect skin, and overuse of the wordcherry. I nod and open the screen door the rest of the way and follow Addison into the house.

Her bungalow is small but decorated perfect for the size. The entryway opens to the living room, so I immediately spot the television hung on the wall and laugh at how disgusted Mason sounded at its size earlier. It’s not as big as mine, but it’s not tiny by any means. A small sectional sofa sits facing the television with end tables and lamps on either side. I’ve worked on enough houses in this neighborhood to know that the other side of the entryway leads to a small hallway which splits off to the kitchen in one direction and the two bedrooms and single bathroom in the other.

“It’s small but works for us.”

“It’s nice. Dakota lives down the street, but I’m sure you know that.”

“I know,” she begins as she takes a seat on the sectional, leaning into the corner with her feet tucked up so her yogurt is balancing on her knees. “I was over the moon when she told me where she lived. Turns out when we moved in, I saw her and Minnie at the house but obviously didn’t know them yet.”

I realize after taking a bite of my yogurt that Mason is nowhere to be found. “Where’s Mason? I thought you said ‘us’ eating yogurt?”

“I did. I’ll take that,” she says, leaning over and plucking the cherry from the top of my cup. “He’ll come out in a few minutes. I told him he needed to throw in a load of laundry before bed. If I don’t remind him, he’ll never do it and then tomorrow, he’ll be a royal pain in my ass when he has no clothes, and his life is over as a result.”

“Gotcha.”

Addison and I sit on the couch talking about nothing and everything while we finish our frozen yogurts. We talk so much that my yogurt turns to soup, and I tilt the bowl up to drink the last bit of it. When I finish I take her container and walk toward the kitchen, realizing Mason never came to the living room to join us. As I’m tossing the empty containers into the trash, I jump when a voice speaks behind me.

“You sure know your way around my house, Landon Montgomery.”

“Nah, I know my way around this floor plan, Addison Sinclair. I’ve worked on a lot of homes in this area. Older homes mean heating and air conditioning issues.”

“Well, it’s good to know a good HVAC guy in case I need one.”

“I should be going; it’s getting late. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”

“Thank me? Oh please,” she says with a giggle. “I need to thankyou.If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve come home to eat pizza again, and tried to cheer up a bummed out kid. Instead, you fed us, gave mewine, hung with my kid so I could come home and relax, and then brought me chocolate. I’m pretty sure I owe at least three dinners in reciprocation.”

“Okay, three sounds good. How about the next three Friday nights? You and me, dinner.” The words are out of my mouth before I can even process them, and my eyes go wide. Addison tilts her head and crosses her arms. I realize now that she’s standing in front of me, just how tiny and petite she is. When we danced on New Year’s Eve, she was in heels, so I didn’t give it much thought. At my house, she was sitting a majority of the time. But now? Standing before me, it’s noticeable, and I have an urge to pick her up.

“Three Friday nights of you and me? Those sound like dates, Landon.” I can’t read her tone. It’s not accusatory, but it’s also not endearing.

“Why not? Look, Addison,” I begin.

“Why won’t you call me Addy? I’ve asked you to and yet, you continue to call me Addison.”

I step forward, not too close so I’m invading her personal space, but enough so Addison can see me, feel what I’m saying, and understand my sincerity. I have to bend my knees a bit—okay, a lot—to get eye level with her, but when I do I see her eyes twinkle with a little mischief. So, I gamble.

“I don’t call you Addy because to me you’re an Addison. An Addy is a girl, a young woman, who doesn’t know who she is or where she’s going in life. You, Addison Sinclair, are a vivacious, beautiful, sexy woman who has lived life and knows exactly who she is.” At my response, Addison’s eyes enlarge and her lips part, forming an O. Looks like the gamble paid off.

“I had fun with you on New Year’s, and I had fun with you tonight. I’d like to hang out more. No pressure and no stress. What do you have to say to that?”

“I ...”

“Great. Sounds like we have an agreement. I’ll touch base with you next week about dinner. Have a good night, Addison.” I lean forward and place a kiss to her cheek close to the corner of her lips and walk away.

---