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Ford is perched against the passenger side, his grey shirt stretched tight across his muscular chest, his arms and legs crossed. Even behind the aviator glasses, I feel the heat of his eyes coasting over my skin.
A thrilling current sizzles in the air, pulling me in.
“Rowan?”
“I n-n-n-eed to go.”
Dammit with the stammer.
One side of Ford’s lip curls as he pushes off the truck and claps, setting Pepper in a tizzy. I release the leash.
“Rowan, are you okay?” All humor is gone, replaced with an icy fear.
“Yes, Mom. Listen, I’ll explain more later, but Ford is waiting for me at the townhouse, and he’s an hour early for our date,” I whisper-hiss.
This is bad, bad, bad. My first date with Ford requires primping.
Luckily, I did my nails at the salon. But hair, make-up, the perfect outfit… it requires time. Time I fit into my schedule. Now he’s here and I’m nowhere near preened!
“Eke! That’s awesome.”
“An hour early, Mom!”
“Well, he may need to be schooled in the etiquette of picking up a lady for a date, but my guess is he doesn’t give a rat’s ass.”
“Got to go,” I emphasize.
“You will call me later, young lady.”
“Love you.” I hang up, shoving the phone in my pocket as he starts my way.
“You’re early,” I blurt out.
“You’re walking the dog, alone.”
I cast my eyes to each side absentmindedly, wondering why this is an issue. “This is a safe neighborhood.”
“Not worried about the neighborhood.”
It hits me.
His expression this morning. The smoldering flare in his eyes. The words he’s uttered several times.
He’s jealous.
Harley and Jewls have endless stories about the overzealous antics of Ace and Major, but I always found it romantic. Now I understand how it is on the receiving end. An unfamiliar sensation travels over my skin.
Ford Whitman—Marine warrior, hailed hero, loyal brother, most gorgeous man I’ve ever met… is jealous over me.
I want to argue, but my mind has other plans. My body lurches forward, arms and legs wrapping around him. His arms lock under my thighs, hoisting me up as my mouth crashes to his.
Electricity scores through my veins when his tongue sweeps around my mouth. The tang of strawberry sweetness explodes in my tastebuds; the woodsy, pine aroma of his cologne invades the air. I clutch his neck, slanting to give him full access. The low rumble of approval sends a tremor through me.
My body sparks to life and my hips thrust into him, feeling the hard bulge. The electric burn ignites a hunger I’ve never experienced.
His hands grip my ass, holding me tight.
Our tongues battle for control, me finally giving in.
