Page 51 of One Killer Night
“You think? I thought it said ‘respectable’”—I wink at her—“and not ‘I do dirty things to your daughter.’”
She chuckles, picking up where I left off. “Absolutely. Who doesn’t like a suitor in a tie? It’s a universal green flag. See, you’re alreadynailingthe job as my parents’ fave.”
My hands land on her hips as I walk her backward toward the wall behind her.
“Am I nailing it? I guess I should spend tonight really hammering it home.”
Her hands lie flat against my chest as I cage her in. She licks her red-lipsticked pout before her voice gets raspy.
“You know, I’d be happy to arrange a good pounding ... of information ... tonight.”
Fuck. Her eyes, and those lips. I’m a goner. We’re lost in our flirtation. Faces inching closer because we’re about to kiss until Evie’s disgust fills the room.
“Eww. You’re not even whispering ... and/or clever. Both are rude to subject me to.”
Goldie presses her lips together, trying not to laugh, as I release her from the cage I had her in.
“Sorry,” Goldie offers insincerely, still smiling at me.
Before any one of us can make a joke, there’s a knock at the door, making Goldie and I swing our heads in that direction. Evie walks between us, leaving only me standing in possible panic before Goldie and I look back at each other.
“They could hate me. Even with the tie.”
Goldie’s hand slips inside mine. “Won’t happen. You’ve got this. They’ll love you ...” Her lips pull into a soft smile, but she suddenly looks nervous before she adds, “Because I do, Noah. I love you.”
The wind is knocked out of me as I stare back into her eyes.
She loves me.
My lips part as I begin smiling back at her, but her finger covers them as she shakes her beautiful head. “No.” A small, huffed laugh escapes her like she’s giddy. “Don’t say anything. Find a better moment. Knock me off my feet.”
Neither of us says another word as we turn at the same time to face the door like two lovesick fools, but Evie winks back at us with her hand resting on the doorknob.
“I may have told Mom that most of Noah’s tattoos were inked in prison ... That’s for trying to set me up with the STD. Twice. Happy New Year, guys.”
Fuck me.
“You remind me of your mom,” I say quietly as I adjust myself on the couch so my body’s facing hers a little bit more.
Goldie does the same. I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, letting my knuckles brush over her birthmark. Man, she’s beautiful in this light, with the fire going.
What am I talking about? She’s beautiful always.
“Noah, I don’t know if you know this,” she deadpans, “but I’m adopted.”
“You’re such a smart-ass.”
She says nothing, just takes a sip of her wine with a sly grin, and I get a little more lost in her and this moment as the conversation flows around us.
I inhale, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth before begrudgingly turning my attention back to the room.
Evie and her dad are going head-to-head in Scrabble as their mom keeps reminding them to keep it clean.
“‘Twat,’” Evie blurts out. “That’s eleven points.”
Their mom scoffs, but Goldie’s father, Stephen, kisses her cheek. “It means ‘incompetent man’ or ‘fool,’ honey.”
“Oh, I know what it means, and right now, you’re the epitome of it.”
