AllFreeNovel
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Once I’ve settled on the underwear, I search for an outfit. Why didn’t I plan this earlier in the week?
I yank open a dresser drawer, searching through stacks of sweaters. My hand brushes over a soft emerald green one. I look good in green. It’ll clash with my underwear though.
Dammit.
I race to my closet, sliding the door open so fast it bangs and springs forward a few inches.
Jesus, Em, calm down.
Why do I have so many clothes and nothing to wear? My fingers skitter over something thin and soft. Black lace.Aha!I yank the blouse off its hanger and study it. Soft, clingy jersey fabric. Plunging neckline—which is why I’ve never worn it to work. But the lace edging along the deep “V” keeps it semi-classy. I hope the hot-pink bra doesn’t show through.
Actually, I hope it does.
Skirt or pants? I stare at rows of neatly hung clothing. This is why I prefer to wear dresses. No mixing and matching required. Black-and-white houndstooth pants? Too formal. Houndstooth skirt? Why do I own so many black-and-white bottoms?
Jeans. Can’t go wrong with jeans. I find a pair of gray skinny jeans and wriggle into them. The last time I wore these, Libby laughed and said no one wears skinny jeans anymore. But I don’t give a damn. The teenage fashion critics of the world will have to pry my skinny jeans from my cold, dead hands.
I prefer heels but hate the idea of clacking around the house in them. Instead, I slip into a pair of black, pointy-toed flats with little silver studs decorating the tips. They look kinda biker-chick.Perfect.
A distant rumble draws my attention.
He’s early.
Shit, shit, shit!
I race around my room, stuffing underwear, panties, and sweaters back into their proper drawers. Thank God I made my bed this morning. I click the remote to turn on my set of white flameless candles, checking that the batteries still work. They flicker to life, casting a soft glow. They’d be better off on the nightstand, right? I pick up all three and set them on the nightstand next to the bed.
Is that romantic? Or too eager?
The thundering of his bike increases, then cuts off. My heart thumps.He’s here.
I run down the stairs, skidding to a stop in the entryway. Dammit. I never put on makeup. I turn and stare in the small, round mirror over the entry table. Pale as a frickin’ ghost. I grab my purse and dig through it for a lip gloss or something.Aha.I pluck a deep-berry lip stain from the depths of my bag and quickly pat it on, leaning in close to the mirror to make sure it’s perfect.
For fuck’s sake, Emily, calm down.
I shouldn’t be this eager, but I throw open the door before Dex has a chance to knock. No sign of him. I step outside and there he is. Dear Lord, it should be illegal for a man to look that good justwalking. Swaggering like he owns my whole damn yard.
He’s so serious. Almost scowling. But then his gaze lands on me and his expression shifts. His lips curve, the smile reaching his eyes where they crinkle at the corners.
“Emily.”
That’s it. My name in his low, rumbly voice sends tingles racing over my skin.
“Hi,” I answer.
Then, he’s standing in front of me. He rests his hand on my hip, holding me in place. “What’re you doing out here?”
“I…heard your bike and I…” Words won’t come when he’s standing so close. Staring like he wants to devour me.
“I’ve missed you,” he says. Blunt, sincere, and to the point.
“I missed you too,” I admit.
His hand moves lower, tapping my behind. “Let’s go inside.”
“Oh. Sure.”
“How’s Libby’s trip going?” he asks.
