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I changed into another sundress, this one navy blue with little straps that tied on my shoulders. My hair I’d twisted into a high bun, and I’d worn little gold hoops and my freshly rinsed-off sneakers. With my purse in hand and my denim jacket slung over my forearm, I made my way out of the house. When I found Remy waiting for me on the porch in those slutty, slutty basketball shorts, a sleeveless shirt, and a baseball cap, I was terribly thrilled to catch the hitch in his breath when he saw me, accompanied by the slightest shift of fabric between his legs.
One of my brows rose, my eyes on the shadow of his cock. “Not wearing underpants, are we?” I slid my big sunglasses on as I walked past.
“Never. Why, are you?”
I smiled at him over my shoulder. “Never,” I promised, throwing a little extra swing in my hips.
Really, I needed professional help.
He cleared his throat and trotted down the stairs behind me. “What do you have a jacket for?”
“Well, I don’t know when we’ll be back, and it might be chilly at dinner or the bar later. Plus—no knickers, remember? The other night at the softball game, I was worried I’d catch something dangerous from the bleachers. At least now I’ll have something to sit on.”
He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh before helping me into the Scout. I didn’t check to see if he’d taken a good long look at my legs on the way up, but I had high hopes.
I kept my smile in check as I gazed off, my elbow hanging out the window and gold bracelets clinking against the metal. He’d taken off the top again, and the sun covered us in glorious heat, kissing my shoulders. With a rumble of the engine, we were off for town and the day. Which would lead to the night. Lord only knew what that would bring.
He took us down the drive, glancing at me, one elbow resting in the open window with his hand on the wheel, the other hand on his gear stick.
“Wonder if we’ll get carried away again tonight,” he mused. “I don’t know about you, but that wasn’t nearly enough for my tastes.”
“Probably,” I answered, as if the thought of him touching me hadn’t wrecked my vagina all over again. “Why, are you worried?”
“Only for you.”
I laughed. “Worried for me? All I had to do was wear a bathing suit and you made up a loophole so you could touch me.”
“You didn’t seem to be complaining.”
“Not at all, but I’ll be damned if you can convince me to kiss that dirty mouth of yours.”
“That’s not all this dirty mouth can do, Duchess.”
“And how much does it think it can get away with tonight?”
“Guess we’ll see,” he said, smirking.
“I suppose we shall,” was all I said, smirking right back as we pulled onto the country road and headed into town.
It was too loud to talk, so I leaned over and turned up the radio, taking in the moment. The rush of musky, green forest walling the two-lane road. The heat of the sun, the heavy air, the warm wind licking my skin. The rumbling engine made the seat tremble as the tinny country song on the radio warbled from old speakers. And of course there was the beast in the driver’s seat who’d very nearly convinced me to disavow a decade’s worth of plans in favor of a new one that largely revolved around him being naked.
Through all of last night and the length of today, I’d thought a lot about seducing a man, but that man had not been Henry. I’d potentially gone and fucked the whole thing, hadn’t I? Cass would kill me. Disown me. Cut me out of the will. Somehow, I’d gotten myself to a place of rogue sex on roofs, the road murky and thick with lewd thoughts. But here I was, sitting next to the most unlikely of suspects, quivering with anticipation. I didn’t know what was going to happen or when, but something surely would, and it’d likely be nothing short of insane.
I didn’t even care if Henry was there tonight. In fact, I realized I’d rather he not be there at all. He’d never wanted me, it seemed. And why had I even placed him in such high regard? Why had I ever agreed to the silly pact? Because he was clever and handsome? Because my family would approve? In the world my father lived in, Henry had the makings of an ideal husband. The woman Father wished me to be would have been perfect for Henry. I’d been groomed for him my whole life.
But what about me? I wasn’t even sure who I was, though I knew I wasn’t whatever my father had hoped for. I wished I could have been, for all our sakes—life would have been much simpler. Ever since I was a girl, I’d thought I could shave off corners of myself to fit better into his mold, but all I’d ever accomplished was scuffing myself up.
Here in Roseville, I felt more myself than I had, perhaps ever. Last night eating beans and rice in a little cottage in the Tennessee woods, I was at ease. Today, hammering nails and using an electric saw, I felt at home. There wasn’t a single expectation on me here that I couldn’t meet. How curious that nearly thirty years of life had passed without knowing how it felt to have an unconditional love for my place and myself.
How curious that I should find it here, with him.
Although it was quiet enough to talk once we reached town, we listened to music in companionable silence. I wondered what he was thinking as we pulled into the softball field parking lot—judging by his face, something was on his mind. He put the Scout in park and turned it off, and for a moment, we sat there, regarding each other. My heart skipped when something in his face changed and he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Cass pulled up next to him and honked.
So we shared a smile and climbed out of the truck, leaving whatever he was going to say where it was. Which left me both relieved and disappointed.
Cass popped out of her car, her wild red hair in a bun on top of her head and sunglasses on her nose. I gave her a kiss on the cheek when I got to her.
“Heya, hot stuff,” she said, slapping me on the bum.
