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“Cass?”
I spin around at the sound of Lennox’s voice. “Hey! I…I’m here for lunch.”
He appears genuinely confused. “The guys got the pie. Is that what you mean?”
“No. Uh, I thought you asked me if I wanted to go for lunch?”
Twin lines appear on Lennox’s forehead, and two more entrench themselves on the bridge of his nose. “Can you show me your phone?”
This is just weird, but okay. I grab my phone out of my purse and flip to our texts. After looking at my phone, he shakes his head, and my stomach sinks.
“Granny,” he mutters.
“Your granny?” Now I’m extra confused. And concerned.
“Never mind. I already had lunch, but if you want to go for a walk, I’m game.” He plucks at his long-sleeved Bottom Line Pawn shirt. “I could write it off as advertising, right? Going for a walk in this general area?”
I giggle extremely girlishly, then glance around furtively to make sure no one heard that. Thankfully, no one is paying attention to me. “I…sure.” I’m so thrilled with the idea of going for a walk with Lennox, even if his amazing body will radiate heat on an already scorching day, that I nearly dance a jig. For the record, I suck at dancing, and I don’t know how to do any sort of jig. “Sure, yes, I think you could work that into your advertising plans.”
“Well, you have a degree in marketing, so you should know. I’ll take that as a solid let’s make it happen.”
Alright, it’s official. Lennox is definitely a fire hazard in those thigh-and-buttock-hugging jeans. He’s not just going to be emitting heat. He’s probably going to incinerate nearby bushes and trees and maybe even melt the asphalt. Stay away from parks.
“Thanks for bringing the pie. My staff is going to love you forever. That was very kind.”
“You’ll never believe how I got that pie and cream.”
His lips curl. “Let me guess. You’re going to tell me it was because something lucky happened. Because we talked last night.”
Oh my, I think I need to purchase a fan. But I don’t think they sell those here. Or maybe… Don’t turn your head all owlish and look all around you. Stop that. Just use your hands. No, not like that. Don’t flutter. The thing with my hands was a joke. There’s nothing you can do to quell the internal fire.
I shrug innocently, ignoring the flames that are practically going all mother lovin’ dragon down there. “Something like that…”
CHAPTER 7
Lennox
“I have to ask, and I’m only going to ask because I really do care, not because I’m super nosy, and to prove it, you can feel free to say pass or nothing at all or tell me to mind my own business, but I…well, since we’re walking and talking, and we’re walking in the same direction, which means we can’t really look at each other all that much and saying things like this might be easier if you’re not watched while saying it, I was just…that is….”
“You want to know about the scars.”
“No. I want to know about your past.”
“So the scars.”
“Lennox!”
Cass pivots quickly, stepping in front of me so neatly that she cleanly avoids the parking meter that I was all set to save her from—things are indeed looking up for her when it comes to the whole get taken out by inanimate objects front. She stops, so I have to stop, and then she grasps my hands and looks at me right in the face, and okay, beyond that, straight into the feely area where I wasn’t sure I had a lot of feels or fucks to give, but I’m definitely feeling, and I’m giving them at the moment. She’s utterly beguiling, entrancing, and beautiful, with her hair flowing over her shoulders in a big sandy mess of curls and wavy strands and baby hairs sticking out at the top of her head. She’s a little flushed—I think from the heat, though I’m open to other suggestions—the dress she’s wearing flows over her sexy curves like she’s a goddess standing in the middle of a midnight fountain while the fabric is the water, and her eyes are shimmering with intensity.
Fuck me, but I’d really like to pull her into one of the alleys closest to us, preferably a dark, sketchy one without smelly dumpsters, security cameras, people gawping, or cars driving through, and get it on with her up against the wall until we’re both senseless. But I would never do that. It’s extremely crass and not my style. It’s public, and it’s…I don’t know, just all-around kind of strange, but I suppose most kinky fantasies are, and this one has me harder than bloody stone. I could swing my dick around like a sword right about now. Ha. First, a bat, now a sword. Next…what? A wrench?
