Page 56 of The Merger
“Did Tate really ask you to come get me?” she asks.
I can’t tell whether she’s hopeful that he did or wishes he didn’t. Truthfully, I don’t know what I think anymore either. Carys scrambles my brain in every way, and I hate that she can get to me. No one gets to me. I’m un-get-to-able.
“Yes, he did,” I say.
“Oh.”
The dejection in her voice is evident, and I feel like a prick. But I won’t admit that I orchestrated this. Even so, I can be a little more honest with her.
“Tate and I happened to be on the phone,” I say, sighing. “It just worked out.”
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t say a word for the rest of the way to her house. Her head rests against the headrest, and her eyes flutter closed. The pucker of her lips is sweet, and it takes everything in me not to brush mine against them.
Not to slip my hand between her thighs.
Not to pull her tits out of that fucking dress.
The pent-up frustration—that’s grown through the afternoon and evening—has reached its crescendo, and I’m about to blow in so many ways.
I turn the car off and get out. The night air is warm and windless. The sky overhead is dark and starless. It’s a suspended moment in time that I’m sure will be etched in my mind for all eternity.
She startles awake once I open her door and the streetlight shines on her face.
“Hey,” I say, catching the way my voice has unintentionally softened. “Ready to go inside?”
“What?Yeah.” She nods as if the situation is just making sense. “Where’s my purse?”
“On the floor. I’ll grab it. Let’s get you out of there first.”
She places her small hand in mine and uses me as leverage to swing her legs around, but as soon as her feet touch the ground, she winces.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“These shoes. I don’t know if I can walk in them.”
“Want to take them off?”
She nods nervously, placing one hand on her stomach. “I’m afraid if I bend over, I might puke.”
Great. I exhale harshly and drop to one knee.What the fuck am I doing?
“Give me your foot,” I say, holding out a hand.
She lifts her right leg and places her sole in my palm.
I hold my breath and focus on her shoe and not on the fact that my face is level with her pussy.
Why are you doing this to yourself, Brewer? You’re not even a nice guy. You could’ve easily avoided this.
I slide a hand up the back of her leg, then wrap it around her calf. She gasps a small breath just loud enough for me to hear. I force a swallow, feeling the softness of her bare skin against my palm, and undo the clasp with my free hand.
“There,” I say quietly, removing the shoe from her foot.
Our eyes meet as I turn to her other foot. The power of the connection stalls my movement, and I search her eyes—for what? I don’t know. But I’m sure that she has the power to make a mess of my life if I let her. I’m also pretty damn sure I’d consider it, given the chance.
Don’t lose your head, asshole.
My fingers drag around her other leg before sinking into her delicate skin. The clasp comes off easily, and the shoe falls into my hand. I linger a moment, absorbing the contact, before placing her foot gently on the pavement.
