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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Abby
My hand is shaking as I raise it to knock. Even though Levi, I mean SimpleMan, told me not to be nervous, admittedly, I’m terrified. Not of him, of course, but of the situation. We’ve talked daily since I messaged him through the dating app, including a few text messages, but he’s been busy with work. Tonight will be our first time seeing each other in a week.
One. Very. Long. Week.
The door opens before my knuckles can rap on the wood, and there he is.
Gorgeous.
Smiling.
So damn sexy that I might have just gotten off standing here.
“Hi,” I squeak out, my throat closed and my voice doing its best Alvin and the Chipmunks impression.
“Hey.”
What do I do now? Am I supposed to give him a kiss? Shake his hand? Maybe do one of those one-handed, back slapping bro hugs?
“Come in,” he says, taking a step back and opening the door widely. I start to cross the threshold when two arms wrap around my midsection and pull me against a firm, muscular body. Oh, this body. Being wrapped in his arms, my head tucked securely beneath his chin, is like heaven. “I’m not sure if this is appropriate or not, but I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers against my hair.
“I’ve missed you too,” I whisper, my lips caressing the stubbled skin of his throat. His scent surrounds me. He smells like the outdoors and musky soap, and just like that, my panties are wet.
Clearing his throat, he takes a step back, but doesn’t release the hold he now has on my hand. His hazel eyes search me, as if cataloging every curve, every line, and every part of my body. “Dinner’s about ready. I hope you’re hungry. I went a little overboard,” he says sheepishly, giving me that grin, the one with the hint of ornery, that I love.
“Starving,” I tell him as he leads me into his place.
The table is already set for two, a bottle of white wine chilling in a bucket of ice in the middle. “I hope you’re in the mood for steak,” he says, pulling my chair out from the table. “I was at the butcher today and they looked amazing. So we’re having prime rib, twice baked potatoes, with extra sour cream,” he adds with a wink, “and fresh asparagus that I bought at the farmer’s market.”
“You did all of this today? After working all night?” I ask, watching as he brings dish after steaming dish to the table.
“Yeah, well, I caught a nap when I got home, but I was a little too anxious to sleep.” Again, I get that sexy grin.
“It smells amazing,” I confirm, my mouth watering as he places food on my plate. When he brings out the prime rib, I think I might actually orgasm on the spot. “Wow.”
We dive in with gusto, neither of us really speaking much, but both of us stealing glances as we eat. We make it through almost the entire meal without many words spoken, but it’s comfortable. It doesn’t feel awkward or forced, but instead, it’s the most natural feeling in the world. As if we’ve done this a million times, and I guess we have.
“Full?” he asks, starting to clean up the empty plates and bowls.
“Stuffed. Let me get that,” I tell him, standing to take the stack of dishes in his hand. “You cooked; I can clean up.”
“Not tonight, angel. These will keep until later.”
I watch as he stacks the dishes by the sink, puts the perishable food in the fridge, and turns to face me. Suddenly, the sexual tension is so thick, I can almost feel it wrap around me like a warm blanket. Levi’s eyes are dark, dilated, and are looking at me as if he wants to gobble me up as a midnight snack.
Before I realize it, I’m moving across the kitchen. Strong arms wrap around me as my body collides with his. When his lips meet mine, I swear I hear the angels singing from the heavens. My body erupts in happiness and need, my arms unable to hold him tight enough.
“God, I fucking missed you so much. I’m so damned sorry, angel,” he mumbles against my lips before urging them open and plunging his tongue inside. This kiss is raw and full of need. It’s as if we can’t get enough of each other.
“I’m sorry too,” I whisper as his mouth slides down the column of my neck.
“No. You don’t apologize.” His eyes find mine, muddled with lust and desire, as he says, “I can’t take back what I did. As much as I wish I could have a redo, I can’t. But I can vow to never lie to you again, angel. Never.” His words are a plea for understanding and forgiveness.
“And I promise to never run away again, even if you’re being a dummy.”
“You can call me an asshole. I deserve something harsher than dummy.” His smile turns wicked, predatory even. “My plan tonight was just to hold you in my arms, and maybe watch one of those cheesy rom-com movies you like so much.”
