Page 10 of The Chance
“I fell asleep in my towel.”
“I’ll not complain if you open the door as you are.” A ghost of a smirk teased his lips.
“I’ll be down in a sec. Fully clothed.” I left him standing outside while I raced to the cramped wardrobe where the clothes hung like items in a jumbled sale rail, squished tightly side by side. My pulse was wild, I could even feel it throb in my skull.
Selecting a slinky hot pink camisole from the top shelf, I then picked out a pair of denim hot pants because my long lean legs were my best feature, and I wanted Seb to see the full package without putting a sign on my forehead that screamed ‘I want you’.
I caught a glimpse of my freckled face and bare skin in the mirror as I brushed my teeth. There wasn't time to play around with makeup, so I pinched my cheeks and sucked my lips together tightly to make them red.
Galloping down the stairs, I skidded along the wooden flooring, flinging open the door with gusto. There he stood, on the porch with his hip against the wooden fence – waiting for me. The sunlight danced on the metal frames of his dark sunglasses, glinting like I'd struck gold. His assessment held us both in a weird silence, neither knowing what the other was thinking, but both simmering with heat.
I laughed quietly, padding backward to allow him inside. "Tea or coffee, farm guy?" I quipped.
"Coffee, city girl." He played along.
I sauntered into mother’s creamy kitchen decorated in red and white gingham. She wanted the stereotypical country kitchen ambiance, but in my opinion, the interior designer went one step too far with matching cups and wallpaper. Seb slung off his work boots and followed me inside. He strode into the room with a confidence that would match any of the city men in designer suits. Pulling out a wooden chair at the long wooden table, big enough to house all the Walton's, he said, "Nice place."
Sitting down, he rested his elbows on the table. I could feel his eyes focus on my denim ass while I filled up the kettle and set it on the gas hob.
Excitement combined with nervous energy, pumping through my veins and bringing my heart rate up to high alert.
"This is my parents’ little piece of countryside. All they wanted was calm and quiet after years of city living and busy office jobs. My dad was a solicitor and my mum owned a couple of retail boutiques." I had to speak just to fill the hush that was swallowing me whole.
"It's homely." He nodded. "Not short of a few quid then."
"It's their money, Seb. Not mine." I slid him a playful look in case he thought he’d found a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
"How come you still live with them?" He sat back in the chair and watched me plop heaped spoonfuls of coffee into two mugs. My dad lived on coffee more than oxygen, so I was always a tad over generous with the servings. "I finished university a few months ago. I'm just getting myself established." I carried the steamy drink to the table and set his mug on the coaster. "Cream or milk?"
"Black is good, Lexi."
"I'll go get my laptop, so you can get straight to business."
A flash of sin shadowed his face and he sucked in his lips. I had to walk away quickly before it became obvious that he was making me all hot and bothered. Leaving him alone, I jogged into the sitting room and unplugged the laptop. With it wedged under my arm, I swung around and bumped into Seb's rock hard chest.
"Sorry… sugar?" he said with a straight face.
"Sugar?" I almost swooned at his pet name but smirked with an awkward flush rising up my neck.
"Have you got any sugar?"
"Oh right, sorry, I thought you..."
"What?"
I hummed a giggle, hinting crazy anxiety that was brought on by all things Seb. "I thought you were calling me sugar."
"Eh, not this time..." His brow creased ever so slightly like he was thinking about it.
I cringed inside. This was becoming awkward and embarrassing. "Crack on with this.” I offered him the laptop, practically shoving it into his hands. “It’s better if you set it up in the kitchen because the Wi-fi connection is stronger in there...and I'll get you the sugar, sugar." I tried to make light of the third mistake of the morning because, let’s face it, who doesn't love a girl with a sense of humour.
Stepping around his tall physique, I avoided the hypnotic pull and traipsed back to the kitchen table where I could take a moment to inhale and locate the stupid sugar.
My mother had a fine China sugar bowl with a strawberry topped spoon to match, set near the cake mixer. Instead of dishing out the sweet stuff, I set it beside him. "I'll leave you to it."
Those mesmerising blue eyes of his instantly cut from the screen to mine. "Don't go anywhere. Sit with me." He blinked twice. "Because I need your password." As quickly as they located me, his eyes flicked back to the screen. “It’s better if you type it in yourself.” He added.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard and without sliding them to the side, he waited for me to lean over him.
