Page 76 of One Hotlanta Night
In the days and months since we met, I’ve come to learn just how brilliant, how caring, how funny, and how fierce she is. It has only strengthened my desire, my need to win her over. Tonight is step one of trying to be more intentional about how I feel. To see if she reciprocates.
At the restaurant, I have to keep my feelings in check. Have to keep the flirting to a minimum. I mean, you can’t exactly go around making sexual advances to the boss. But it also makes it hard to convince her I want more than our professional relationship. I can’t outright ask her out in the workplace to see if she’s interested. But we’re not on the clock tonight.
Tonight, I can give her a taste of what it would be like if she was mine. To open her eyes to how good we could be together.
“Ready!” Claire shows up at the front door and I gulp. Her outfit may be casual, but to me, she’s breathtaking in tight jean shorts and NSYNC t-shirt. Her long brown hair flows down loose for once, and I’m shocked to realize it falls all the way down her back.Holy fucking shit. My hands flex unconsciously, thinking of how it would feel to wrap those luscious tresses around my hands as I guide her head back… “Derrick? You okay?” She looks at me with a worried glance and I shake myself out of the erotic vision. Tonight’s going to be a test of willpower of mythical proportions.
“Sorry, darlin’, what was that?” The endearment slips out before I can stop it, but Claire doesn’t seem to register it.
“It’s too much, isn’t it?” she asks, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “It’s probably too young for me.” She trails off, biting her lip. I hate that she’s second-guessing her clothes. She could wear a paper bag and make it look sexy.
I step closer to her and take her hand, gently releasing her t-shirt from the torture of her fingers. “You look perfect,” I tell her, swiping my thumb over the soft skin of her wrist. She shivers, and I stop stroking but don’t release her hand. It feels so soft and small in mine. Just right. Just like her.
Looking her over, I see the makeup she’s applied only serves to enhance her natural beauty. None of the heavy eyeliner or silver eyeshadow girls like to wear these days. She’s all curves and all woman.All mine.Her brown eyes widen as I take her in from head to toe, and she must hear the mumbled, “Just perfect,” under my breath as I take another step closer.
“Let me just give Raelynn a quick hug goodbye,” she says, stepping back and my hand immediately misses hers.
“Derrick!” Raelynn barrels around the corner and launches herself at my legs. Thankfully I’m used to her rambunctiousness and quickly drop into a squat so I can lift her up.
“Princess!” I greet her as I twirl her in a circle, causing her to squeal in laughter.
“Okay, Derrick, we don’t want her to lose her dinner,” Claire warns, going into full mom-mode. Just another thing I love about her. She’s so fiercely protective. I want her to be that way with our own kids.
“Did you eat all your dinner, princess?” I ask the sweet girl, pretending to steal her nose.
“Yes, I did, Derrick! And my pokey stick was good too!” She pushes her chest out proudly, and I hold up my hand for a high five. She smacks it soundly, and I pretend she’s knocked it clear off with an exaggerated “Ow, ow, ow!” She giggles at my fake pain, especially when I wink at her as I set her down carefully.
Michael and Vivian emerge from the kitchen, Vivian’s hair is slightly mussed, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s been kissing the hell out of his fiancée. Damn, I can’t waituntil I can do that to Claire. Find out what her mouth will taste like, how her curves will fit into my hands…
I turn away, finding a sudden fascination in the family pictures on the wall as I try to distract myself from that vision. The frames feature a ton of Raelynn, some with an older couple who might be her aunt and uncle, and only a few with Claire in them. I frown. Why aren’t there more pictures of her? As I look closer, I realize that although her mouth is shaped in a smile, in none of these pictures does it reach her eyes. Oh wait, that’s her wedding picture. The man next to her must be her fallen husband.
A scowl twists my face. Vivian must’ve noticed my interest in Claire straight off the bat, because she was quick to tell me that Claire’s husband had been killed in Afghanistan. He never even had a chance to meet his daughter. I’d feel worse about lusting over a dead man’s wife if Vivian hadn’t confided in me one night (over one too many of my famous old fashioneds, I might add) that Claire and Paul’s marriage was not a happy one. That she’d been making plans to leave him but found out she was pregnant. And basically “got stuck,” as Vivian put it.
Vivian admitted that while she’d never met Paul, Claire didn’t seem to miss him all that much. Whatever he’d done to her that kept her from smiling in her own damn wedding photos makes me curl my fists. I don’t know the details, but I’m determined to show Claire what a real man can be.
I’m not sure if she’s resistant to being in a relationship with me because I’m younger than her, or because she just doesn’t have the time. My gut tells me it’s a bit of both, and it’s rarely wrong. But my gut also says she likes me. She might not want to, but I’ve noted every time she glances my way, how her body stiffens when I’m standing close, and how she unconsciously sways toward me when we’re alone. Part of her wants me, which is why I’ve been working so hard to prove that I am worthy of her.
“You’ll call me if anything goes wrong, anything at all, right?” Claire’s worry bleeds through her voice.
“Relax, Claire. We’re going to take good care of her.” Vivian touches Claire’s arm in reassurance. “We’ll make sure she’s in bed by eight and everything.”
“But not until we go flying first!” Michael swoops in and lifts Raelynn onto his shoulders, holding her arms out so she can soar through the air while keeping her safe. He’s going to be a great uncle to Raelynn.
But I’m gonna be an even better daddy.
“To infinity,” he says.
“And beyond!” Raelynn finishes, giggling uncontrollably.Toy Storygets ’em every time and even Claire is smiling now.
“Ready to go?” I offer Claire my arm as a gallant gesture and she pauses, looking at it, then up at me as if she’s trying to figure me out. I nudge her hand and she reluctantly takes my arm as I lead her down the front steps.
“We’re taking your truck, right?” she says as she glances nervously at Michael’s Mustang parked in the driveway. It looks like a Hot Wheels car next to my jacked up Ford 350.
“Most definitely,” I tell her as I unlock the passenger side door and open it. Claire’s far from tiny, but her first jump doesn’t quite get her enough height to land in the seat.
“Here, let me,” I say andfinallyget my first taste of just how good her hips feel in my hands as I lift her effortlessly into the seat. Her skin is so warm beneath her jeans and her shirt slips ever so slightly, exposing a small sliver of skin that my thumbs have the fortune of stroking for a millisecond. Just a millisecond of heaven.
Attempting to steady my breath, I wait a moment while Claire, who looks just as flustered, swipes her gorgeous long hair over her shoulder so she doesn’t end up sitting on it. Damn it all, that hair and what I want to do with it is going to be the death of me.
