AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m so proud of you, Fiona, I think.
“She held me as I cried. I don’t know how long it was, but it was a long time. It felt like years. So, yeah, that’s the story of crazy Sadie and the song that sets her off.”
I smooth more tears from her eyes.
“I’m here for you,” I tell her. “I’ll always be here for you.”
She reaches up and touches my face. “Thank you, Flame,” she whispers, with an endearing laugh beneath her voice. “But if you don’t let go of me, I might start crying again and ruin my makeup.”
“You’re beautiful without it,” I say with passion, truthfully. “You’re a picture, Sadie, a gorgeous goddamn picture.”
“Why, Saul?” she whispers.
“Why what?” I mutter in confusion.
She leans back and regards me as if I’ve just asked the stupidest question in the world.
It’s so easy to imagine her aiming a similar expression at our children, eyebrow arched, lips pursed. Did you really think I wouldn’t know that you sneaked into the treats jar, young man? I hear her say in my mind, wearing an apron and steam from her cooking dancing in the air behind her.
Or that same look—leaning over our child’s shoulder as she helps with their homework.
Stern and matronly and fierce and wonderful and, on top of all that, hotter than fucking fire. She’s wrong. I’m not a Flame. She is.
“Why me?” she asks now.
“Sparkplug,” I sigh. “There are a million reasons. Your eyes, the way you bite your lip, your shyness, your loving spirit, your passion for animals, your sassiness … Everything about you, down to the fucking atoms, that’s why.”
I kiss her, grazing her lips instead of sinking into them, lest I lose control right here in the car.
“Okay, enough waterworks,” she says, grinning brightly, pushing away the tragedy. “Tonight is about us, like you said. Let’s let tomorrow take care of itself.”
I study her for a moment longer, making sure she’s okay, and then pull the car out and drive extra carefully down the winter road.Chapter SeventeenSadieWe sit in a private corner booth of the restaurant, the walls the same red as my dress and lined with velvet.
As we walked over here, I kept cringing inside, thinking that the eyes of the patrons’ were all turned to me, that every half-heard voice was a declaration of disgust.
Does she really think she can get away with wearing that? I imagined them saying.
But all I have to do now is look into Saul’s eyes and see the effect the dress is having on him, the same effect it’s had on him ever since I put it on.
His eyes take on that husky, intense quality I recognize from the racetrack, that I’ll always be able to read now as the beast inside of him tries to break free from its shackles.
He looks at me as if to say, If we weren’t in public, Sparkplug, I’d be doing some pretty savage things to you right now.
I return the look, lust bubbling inside of me.
Then – so that we don’t actually pounce on each other – I glance around the restaurant.
It’s a wide ballroom-type space, with high ceilings and decorative marble columns running along the walls. The walls themselves are covered in the kind of high quality art I’d expect to see in some medieval church. The floors are covered in gorgeous rugs, the same sort that Saul has in his house.
“I can see why you like this place,” I whisper, studying the real torch lights flickering along the walls.
“I better like it,” he smirks, his eyes glinting knowingly.
I lean forward, propping my chin in my hands. Too late, I realize that the gesture causes my breasts to push together. My instinct is to quickly correct myself. But then Saul’s jaw tightens and his eyes flit to my cleavage, a carnal shimmer in his expression.
So I ride it, oh, jeez … I don’t let self-consciousness batter me down.
I squeeze them even tighter together and let the delight swim through me.
I feel myself awakening this evening, as though the emotional intimacy in the car can translate to bravery.
Bravery, I chide myself.
But then, for me, this is brave. I’ve never felt comfortable using my body like this before. I never thought there’d be anyone who would be interested.
But now Saul is more than interested.
“What do you mean?” I say, snapping back to the present.
“Who says I have to mean anything, Sparkplug?”
“Oh, just the way you’re looking around like you’ve got a secret, Flame.”
He grins wolfishly at the nickname. “I’m never going to be rid of that.”
“Well, unless I somehow manage to ice myself over and become immune to you, no, I don’t think so.”
“I suppose I better do my best to ruin this date, then,” he banters.
I scoff. “You couldn’t do that if you tried. Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”
