Page 37 of Overdue

“Reed?”

“Yes, Mr. Daily.”

“You got it.”

“I got what?”

My boss chuckles. “You got the town square job, son. Have you already forgotten?” Mr. Daily teases. Not likely. I haven’t slept. I’ve been too anxious to hear something. “It’s all yours, kid. You can start next week. Pick your team.”

“No disrespect, sir, but are you shitting me?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Not only has my presentation been chosen, but I’m in charge? That couldn’t be right, could it?

“I shit you not,” Mr. Daily laughs. “The job’s yours. You earned it. I’ll help in any way you need, starting tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’m proud of you, Reed. Job well done.” My boss hangs up, and I spin around looking for someone to tell.

The homeowners are gone, so I let out a whoop. The news is too good not to share. The first person I think of is Austen. Unfortunately, she’s at work and I’m disgusting. I’ll just run home and clean up. Then I’ll find Austen.

Quickly, I throw my tools in the truck. My tires squeal as I pull away from the curb. Just a fast shower, then I’ll be good. I park in the driveway and enter the house through the mudroom in the back.

Gran will kill me if I track mud through the house. Even if I clean it up. I drape my wet clothes over the drying rack and run upstairs. I’ll start the washer after my shower.

I rush through the shower, sling a towel around my waist, and head back downstairs. With the washer going, I’m reminded I need something to drink. I’m digging through the refrigerator for a bottle of water when the front door crashes open. Gran must have forgotten to lock it when she left to go shopping with Mel.

“Reed?” I stick my head up above the open refrigerator door when I hear Austen. “Oh my god, Reed,” she yells. I step from behind the door, and she freezes at the entrance of the kitchen. Her eyes wander down my body and back up. “You got the job,” she adds a little breathlessly.

“I did. I was on my way to tell you.” We stand in silence, staring at each other. Austen nods her head up and down. “I was going to dress first.”

“Thank goodness I got here before that happened.” She takes a tentative step toward me. Then another. And another, until we stand a breath apart. Slowly she raises her arms and pulls me into an embrace. “Congratulations, Reed.”

“I did it. We did it.” With her pressed against my almost naked body, I can only manage one-syllable words. She pulls back just enough to meet my gaze.

“I know.” She cups my face in her hands and kisses me. “I’m so proud of you.”

Something inside me breaks like a dam. My hands close around her waist, and I lift her to my waist. She closes her legs around me.

I don’t even know if the towel has managed to stay in place. Better if it didn’t. That way the only thing between us is a scrap of material she calls panties. Her skirt is already hiked to her waist, and I make short work of the T-shirt she has on.

Her back is pressed against the kitchen wall when I free her breasts from the lace bra. I move to pull a dusty pink nipple between my lips.

In the back of my mind, I keep waiting for her to push me away. She could, at the very least, launch into some lecture about male sexual dominance in nineteenth-century literature. But all I hear are moans rolling past her lips.

I know the towel is gone when her hand wraps around my girth. How far do I take this? She doesn’t give me a chance to decide when she lines me up and sinks down my shaft. Fuck.

She feels like the softest silk as I slide into her warmth. It’s more than even my wildest fantasies about her. I don’t want it to ever end.

“Reed,” she moans. Her body grinds against mine in rhythmic motions. This is going to be over too soon like this. I try to slow us down, but it’s no use. Our bodies have waited for each other too long.

She clamps down around me with a cry. Molten lava pours through my body into her. It’s over too soon. I lay my head on the wall next to her shoulder. I’ll never get enough of being with her. Not if I live to be one hundred years old. It’s always been us together, no matter what we’ve tried to convince ourselves of over the years.

I’m shaken from my stupor by Austen trying to climb off me.

“Easy. Let me help you.” I lower her to her feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Can you hand me the paper towels?” Shit, I forgot a condom. I’m more than happy to knock Austen up, but I think we have some shit to figure out first.

“I’m sorry.” I’m not sure what else to say. This is not what I had envisioned for our first time together. Not that it wasn’t hot. Just… I can do better.

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