Page 40 of Until Joy

“Do you mind if I roll my window down?” I asked as we got to the slower streets. I needed something to cool me down.

“No,” Graham said as he turned off the air conditioning and rolled down his as well. The breeze felt nice, and it carried a scent of honeysuckle and magnolias. It was the smell of home. I’d missed it the six months I’d lived in London.

I watched as the wind tousled Graham’s dark hair. It gleamed in the moonlight and made me itch to run my fingers through it. I looked down at his hands as they gripped the steering wheel. I’d had dreams about his big, strong hands and what they could do to me. He must have sensed me staring at him, because when we hit a stop, he glanced over at me.

He took in a long, deep breath. “Tonight sure didn’t turn out as I expected.”

I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. I looked around. Nobody else was at the four-way stop.

“No, it didn’t,” I agreed.

“Do you want me to take you back to Miss Laverne’s?”

I frowned. “Why would you do that?”

A car pulled up behind us and Graham took a right, then pulled over to the curb and killed the engine. He turned and gave me his full attention. “I just didn’t know after everything that happened if you still wanted to go back to my place. After all, you said you don’t drink tequila.”

My heart melted.

I turned in my seat to face him fully. “I want to go to your house. Unless, of course, you don’t want me there.”

He reached over the console and threaded his fingers through mine. “Hell yes, I want you there, but I don’t want to coerce you into anything.”

I laughed. “Three shots in three hours aren’t likely to get me drunk.”

“You don’t sound tipsy.” He gave me a considering look.

I untangled our fingers and crossed my arms over my chest. “I might not drink tequila, but I have two overbearing older brothers. They thought it was mandatory that I knew how to hold my liquor. And, since I was born and bred in Tennessee, I’m a Jack girl.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Are you shitting me?”

“For real. You need to meet Seth and Randy to understand.”

“I don’t think I’m at the point where I want to meet your two older, over-protective brothers.”

I tilted my head and gave him a considering look. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-two. You’re twenty-four, right?”

“I’m going to be twenty-five next month,” I countered.

“Fuck me. You know someone is young when they try to age themselves up.”

“Whatever you say, Grandpa. So, are we going to your house or not?”

Graham turned back to the front and started his truck. “We’re definitely going to my place.”

I grinned and did my darndest not to wiggle my tushie in excitement.

Graham’s house was cool and dimly lit as we stepped inside. He locked the door behind us. He ushered me into the living room, turning on the overhead light as we went. Then he headed to the kitchen.

“Water?” he asked.

“God, yes. I’m parched.”

“I imagine. I was blown away by your singing. Is that something you ever thought of doing professionally?”

I giggled. I couldn’t help myself. “I’m not even the best singer in my church choir. There is no way I could make it as a professional.” He handed me a bottle of water with the top off, and I took a long pull.