Page 64 of Sterling Fight

Ionce read an article that said Thursdays were the sexiest day of the week. Some study showed that cortisol levels are highest on the fourth day of the seven, and thus sex hormones elevate.

First, I’d like to know who runs these studies and how.

Second, I don’t think they’ve met Judd Sylver because being around him, I feel like my cortisol levels and sex hormones have been pinging all over the place every day leading up to this day.

Which happens to be a Thursday, and my first Sterlet meeting.

Minutes before I’m set to leave, accepting an invitation from Vale to meet her and several of her sisters-in-law at Milton Roadhouse for a drink, Judd comes to stand outside the guest room door.

“Hey.” My voice comes out shy. Even though, we shared kisses and a night of only sleep together, I feel even more uncertain about where Judd and I stand. When I woke early this morning, he’d already left his bed. He also left me a note explaining he went for a run, and I decided to spend the day outside.

After the storm, the vegetation around Judd’s place looked like it sprang to full summer bloom overnight. Green was everywhere from the deep forest color to the brightest lime shade, and I could not concentrate again, although an idea had sparked.

A mountain adventure Quirky Girl Calendar had a rough beginning.

Now, Judd sheepishly smiles before lifting his hand and twirling a set of keys around his finger. “I’m giving you a ride.”

“Oh, I can drive myself.” I wave, tugging my crossbody bag over my shoulder. I’m wearing another green dress that ruffles along the collarbone and dips between my breasts. Judd’s gaze follows the line of ruffles before his eyes leap back to my face.

“I don’t want you drinking and driving, so I’ll be your chauffeur for the evening.” The intention is rather thoughtful and sweet, and while I don’t want to put him out, I do appreciate the gesture.

“If you are sure,” I counter.

“I’m sure.” His sheepish smile grows into a crooked grin, and I wonder if he’s been thinking about our night like I have.

The way he kissed me. The way he held my hand as we slept. The secret he shared with me.

The day has not been awkward, but I’ve been a bit anxious around him. The nervous energy more likely a result of the lingering effects of the storm and my continued confusion.

Once we arrive at Milton Roadhouse, Judd parks down the street and comes around to the passenger side to help me out of his truck. He tucks my arm into the crook of his elbow as he walks me the few feet to Milton’s front door.

“Text me about fifteen minutes before you want to come home, and I’ll pick you up at The She Shed.”

Home. He so casually tosses out the word and I glance up at him. The curve of his jaw. The heat in his eyes. The softness of those lips that kissed me last night.

He pauses and I spin before him. When we face one another, he tucks my hair around my ear again and says, “Have a great night.”

Too quickly, he’s releasing my hair and drawing back from me. And I stare after him as he takes one step back and then another while still looking at me.

We don’t separate with a parting kiss which feels like it should naturally happen, and yet everything feels so new, itchy and uncertain.

Couple goals. Always kiss for greetings and goodbyes.

The thought hits me so hard, I stumble on my high heel when I haven’t even moved my foot.

Judd rushes forward again, catching my elbow as if I’m still unsteady on my feet. “You okay?”

I give him a thumbs up because my voice is trapped deep inside me, along with a lot of emotions I’m not ready to evaluate.

With a questioning smile, Judd pulls back again and something inside me says not to let him go. To reach for him and tug him back to me. Give him that kiss. But I don’t. I watch as Judd once again steps back, nodding at the door of Milton’s, like he’ll wait for me to enter the bar before he’ll leave.

The inside of Milton Roadhouse reminds me of an old-time saloon and rumor claims that eons ago this former hotel was once a popular watering hole on Milton Peak. With thick beams in dark wood and the occasional wagon wheel chandelier, the space is large but dimly lit. A square bar is off to the right, with an empty space around it like a wood-floor moat. A smattering of high-top tables made from barrels crowned with oak planks fill the space, while regular tables are scattered around a dance floor and small stage tucked into a corner.

Instantly, I find Vale. Her cornstalk-blonde hair is the lightest color on the spectrum of Sylvers which run from a heavy silver mix to still dark brown with sprinkles of gray. As the youngest, she is roughly mid-thirties. With her tonight is the pregnant Cadence, and her sister, Enya. The sisters look like sisters despite Cadence’s acorn-brown hair being lighter than her sister’s slightly darker tresses. Cadence’s stage hair is blonde.

We’ll meet up with Halle and Mavis a little later at The She Shed, a knitting shop owned by Meredith Mulligan.

“I know Ford said a sex toy wasn’t something necessary, but there’s nothing wrong with toys-as-tools to enhance things,” Cadence is saying as I step up to the table.