That felt like enough. Maybe more than enough given where we both were at this point. Ripe is the word I could think of.
I texted when I was on my way.
I’ll be there in ten. Be ready for me.
Her reply came before I hit the next light.
That’s not a question.
I smiled.
No. It isn’t.
I think we’re past that point now. Don’t you?
Three dots appeared, disappeared and reappeared. I smiled while staring at my phone.
I think you’re right.
By the time I pulled up in front of her townhouse, I was earlier than I needed to be and irritated at myself for caring.
She lived in the Lower Hill, on a quieter stretch where the city still felt close enough to touch. Newer townhomes lined the street with dark windows, neat stoops, and little pockets of landscaping somebody paid good money to keep looking effortless. From where I parked, I could see Downtown glowing beyond the rooftops, all glass and light in the distance, while her block sat tucked back from the noise like it knew exactly what it was worth.
It fit her. Private and pretty, close to everything without feeling too available, the kind of place a woman chose when she liked the city but still wanted control over who got close.
I killed the engine and checked the time like being early was something I could reason my way out of.
Then the front door opened.
Talia stepped out of that house like summer had finally decided to show off.
She wore bronze, a dress that skimmed instead of clung, soft over her hips and cut in places that made my mouth go dry. The front dipped low enough to remind me I had eyes, but it was the openings at her sides and the flash of her back when she turned to lock the door that did the damage. Smooth light-brown skin. Curves moving under that bronze fabric like the dress had been made to follow her and mind its business at the same time.
Gold studs lined her ear, small and bright under the porch light. Gold rings caught at her fingers. Bracelets moved softly at her wrist. A gold purse hung from one hand, and the wedge sandals on her feet gave her legs a long, pretty line that made me forget whatever responsible thought I’d been trying to hold on to.
She sparkled without looking like she had tried to blind anybody.
I got out before she reached the curb because I’d been raised right.
She smiled the second she saw me standing by the passenger door.
“You’re staring at me like you want to eat me.”
My hand tightened on the door handle before I could help it, because she was far from wrong.
Something in my face must have shifted, because her smile softened into something slower, more aware.
“I’m trying to behave,” I said.
“That’s unfortunate.”
I opened the door for her, taking one second too long to move out of her way. “You always this difficult before dinner?”
“Only when a man makes it easy.”
I laughed under my breath, but my eyes were still on her. That bronze dress, that smooth skin, all that gold catching against her like the night had decided to do me no favors.
She slid into the seat, her sweet perfume rising warm into the evening air as that bronze dress shifted over her thighs.
