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I hurried out of the bedroom. “One more minute,” I said and darted into the bathroom where I quickly applied mascara and watermelon-pink lip gloss. A few strands had escaped the hair twist from when I’d pulled the sweaterdress over my head, but I didn’t bother tucking them back up.
I came out of the bathroom and peered around the cabin for my boots. My gaze stopped on Vic still leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, and his dark eyes heated and locked on me.
He looked down at Jackson who was standing beside him. “Kid, you want to get in the truck. Need a minute with your mom.”
“Okay.” Jackson took off outside, leaving me alone with Vic.
Vic’s gaze slid from my face down the length of my body, then back up again. He said something beneath his breath, but I couldn’t hear what.
“What’s wrong?” I glanced down at myself. Did I somehow manage to get chocolate ice cream on the sweaterdress?
I was still checking the dress when I heard the rustle of denim and the thud of his combat boots as he approached. When I looked up again, he was a foot away.
“I like the T-shirts. I like you in the ridiculous onesie too. Sexy as hell. But you dressed like that, hair up and messy and your lips glossy and smelling like fuckin’ watermelon….” He placed his hands on the wall, bridging over me. “If shit was different, you’d be up against the wall, being kissed right now.”
Oh. My. God. This wasn’t pixie-fairies in my belly. This was a swooping, fire-breathing dragon.
Vic wanted to kiss me.
I licked my lips, tasting the sweetness of the watermelon and suddenly wishing I was tasting him instead. “You also look really good, and I want to kiss you too.”
His mouth twitched, and that sent the dragons to pillage between my legs. “Not going to kiss you, Rainbird.”
The dragons coughed on smoke. “Why not?”
“Because your kid’s fifty feet away, and I don’t need him walking in here to see me ravish his mother. It would scare the shit out of him.”
Oh. OH. Holy freakin’ crap. Vic wanted to kiss me and ravish me, but he wouldn’t because he didn’t want to scare Jackson. Jesus.
“Let’s go, baby.”
Side note: Vic calling me baby was orgasm worthy.
He slipped his hand into mine, which caused a chaos of swoops, flips, and heated tingles to tap dance across my skin.
My legs felt like jelly, and if he wasn’t holding my hand, I’d have probably fallen to the floor.
Vic led me outside to his kickass truck. He opened the door for me, and I slid onto the black leather bucket seat. I peered into the backseat to make sure Jackson had his belt on.
“Why is your face all red?” Jackson asked.
Shit. I put my hand to my cheek. “Oh, ah, I’m hot.” It wasn’t a lie. I was hot. I was burning up in places I shouldn’t be.
The driver’s door opened, and Vic slid into the driver’s seat. He pressed the button and the engine rumbled to life. He glanced back over his shoulder at Jackson. “You have your belt on, kid?”
“Yep. Does this truck turn into a machine when you need to fight bad guys?”
Vic’s gaze swung to me, and I mouthed, “Transformers.” He’d come home from school talking about them last week.
Vic’s brows arched. “No, kid. But the windows are bulletproof.”
My brows lifted at that. Was that true? The truck was bulletproof?
Then he slid it into gear, and we drove out.
Macayla
Jackson squealed with laughter.
