Page 48 of Smoke Show

“You’re a beast behind the microphone,” I said, awed by her and struggling to reconcile her ease singing with the stage fright from play practice. “What other skeletons do you have in your closet?” I joked.

She looked stricken for a moment, staring at the stage where the next round of performers took their mics. Eve shredded the napkin beneath her drink, and I regretted that I’d ruined the mood.

After listening to the couple butcher The Devil Went Down to Georgia, she seemed to snap out of it, relaxing back into her seat.

I covered her fingers with mine, entwining our fingers, glad when she squeezed my hand and smiled.

That small gesture ignited my imagination. I’d spend all night in her grip if she’d let me.

We ended the evening after watching another few performances. I was too eager to get Eve back to my place or hers to care much that we rushed our exit, missing a goodbye to Ivan and Izzy. To be fair, they were just as oblivious, too busy gazing into each other's eyes to worry much about us.

“So, my place?” I asked as we slid into my SUV.

“I guess we wouldn’t want Trouble to be lonely.”

Best. Wingman. Ever. Just one of the many perks of pet ownership.

“Do you need anything from your place?” I asked, dancing around what I really wanted to ask: would she stay the night?

Eve shifted a quick glance my way, and I caught a barely suppressed tilt to her lips. She hefted the miniature black backpack she used as a purse.

“I already packed a few essentials.”

Pleased she wanted to stay over, the edge of anticipation took over, riding me hard as I turned toward my house. It took all my self-restraint not to press down on the gas. Getting pulled over by one of Diedre’s deputies wouldn’t be a romantic start to our night together.

I tossed my keys on a side table, eagerly stripping out of my jacket and tossing it across the couch.

Eve’s eyes danced as she stood in my entry, watching me tug impatiently at my collar, unbuttoning my shirt.

“What’s your hurry, handsome?”

“I’m overdressed.”

She chuckled, slowly sliding the zippers down on her boots, placing them neatly by my door.

“That’s a given.” Eve advanced on me, stopping when we stood toe-to-toe.

She placed gentle hands on my chest, smoothing the fabric of my shirt. Her dark eyes dilated, and I swayed closer at the sign of her arousal, drawn to her heat.

“It’s all part of the job,” I said.

“Mm. I do love a man who takes his work seriously,” Eve said, skipping her fingers down my open shirt, tracing faint patterns on my skin.

“Even though you teased me about it mercilessly?” I asked, unable to hide the edge of incredulity in my voice.

“Competence is sexy,” Eve murmured, slowly pushing my shirt over my shoulders.

Mesmerized by the light in her eyes, I let it drop to the floor.

“Are you sure you don’t mean stiff? Annoying? You used to have a lot to say about Principal Gleason.”

Eve’s lips twitched. “That was before I knew about your wild side.”

Only Eve would claim I had one. Then again, something about her drew out my reckless streak. She drew me in a way I couldn’t explain, even before I fully realized the attraction. I could have pressed my mom into co-directing the play with me, but once Eve asked me for space for the auction, I knew only she would do.

I leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss that explored, demanding a response. She tasted faintly of beer, earthy and intoxicating. Unable to hold back, I urged her forward, sighing when my hips cradled hers.

Slowly, I stripped her out of her dark shirt, enjoying the way the pale globes of her breasts shone under the light, dark ink tracing her curves in intriguing ways. I wanted to trace those patterns with my tongue.

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