Page 46 of Give My Everything
“I work a lot, but I’ll make time for this. I just need to know days, so text me what your schedule looks like for this weekend.”
Remmy smiles. “Well I don’t have a job, so I’m open whenever.”
I puff a soundless laugh out of my nose. “Friday, then? I’ll make another plan once I get home and take a look at the calendar?”
“That works.”
We finish our ice cream in silence, sneaking glances at each other every now and then.
“You know, for my first date in seven years, this wasn’t bad,” Remmy says as we meander through the sparse weekday evening crowd to where my car is parked behind Bennie’s.
The summer is coming to a close in a few weeks, but in a town that stays warm year-round, we’re lucky to be able to enjoy the outdoors most days. The humidity is thick tonight, almost like rain is in the air.
“So glad to hear your rave review,” I reply, sarcasm heavy in my voice.
Remmy smiles at me as I open her door and wait for her to climb into the passenger seat.
“But I agree. This date definitely wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.”
I shut her door, round the back, and climb in the driver’s side.
“Just how bad did you think it was going to be?” she asks.
I laugh. “Well, when you tout yourself as the black sheep of the family, I can’t help but wonder if we’re going to get accosted by a motorcycle gang or something.”
She shakes her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
Just as I’m starting the car, the sky opens up, rain pouring down as the humidity breaks through the clouds and dumps all over the handful of people still on the promenade. Many of them start squealing and running for cover.
“Perfect timing,” I say, backing out and heading toward Remmy’s house.
“Not for me when we get home.”
I lift a shoulder. “It’s California rain—it could pass in minutes.”
But it’s still raining when we pull up in front of her house, the almost melodic sound of water falling onto the roof and windows filling the space with noise.
Instead of getting out and running to the door, Remmy turns to the side, her back against the door of the car, the movement highlighting her long legs as they stretch out before her.
I can’t help but allow my eyes to run the length of them…all smooth, tan, sexy skin.
“Mr. Calloway,” she teases, her voice lightening, “are you looking at my legs?”
My tongue runs along my lips without my permission, but I shake my head.
Remmy’s head falls back against the headrest and her hand reaches up, her fingers twirling the strands of her hair.
She looks like every fantasy I’ve ever had rolled into one package, right there for the taking.
“What’s on your mind?” she asks.
I can’t tell her—not honestly.
How do you tell someone you’re imagining what it would be like for them to hike up their dress and straddle you in the front seat of your car?
I’ve never been particularly forward. As confident as I come across, I know I’m a completely different person in business and friendships than in relationships.
And honestly, Remmy makes me a bit nervous.
