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On the very short drive down to her house, I debate whether I should park and go to the door or just tap the horn.
I don’t want this little outing of ours to take on the feel of a “date.”
Yeah, maybe I’ll just honk.
Thankfully, I don’t have to do either.
When I pull in and around the big semicircle driveway, Willow comes out, closes the front door, and turns to lock it.
Phew!
The pressure is off.
Before she turns back around, I take notice of how hot her ass looks in the faded jean shorts she’s wearing.
Damn, do they ever show off her toned legs.
And her sexy pink top is nice and tight. It looks even better when she starts walking toward the car.
Hell, even her wedge sandals with the pink straps are cute. But I especially like how her hair is up in a high ponytail, giving her a sexy, sporty look.
“Wow,” I murmur to myself as she approaches the car.
Popping open the passenger door, she leans in and says cheerfully, “Hey, Arden.”
I give her a little wave. “Hi.”
As she slides into the passenger seat, I try not to linger on her long, lean legs.
Behave.
Quickly, I focus instead on how I’m glad we’re both casually dressed. I have on tan cargo shorts, a dark brown tech tee, and athletic shoes. It’s like neither of us is trying too hard.
That’s good.
Looking around the interior of my vehicle and nodding approvingly as she fastens her seat belt, she says, “I like your car. Is this an Audi A8?”
“It is.”
“Nice. The black interior looks fantastic with the silver color.”
I put the car in gear and reply, “I thought so, too, when I ordered it.”
As we start out of the driveway, she shares, “Huh, I’ve never custom ordered a car. Not once in my life. In fact, I picked out my Honda off the used car lot. It had low miles, and it’s a cool teal color. That sold it for me.”
“Teal is nice,” I say. “And for the record, I was never able to custom order a car until I got drafted.”
Oozing confidence, which I love, she says, “Yeah, I figure if I work hard and move up, my time will come.”
I like how sure she is of herself.
It makes me smile.
Glancing over and still grinning, I reply, “That’s the spirit.”
“So,” she says, tapping her hands once on her thighs, “tell me about this café we’re going to. Have you been there before?”
I nod. “Yeah, I have, but only for takeout. I’ve always wanted to try their outdoor seating area, though. It’s pretty cool. Think shaded brick courtyard attached to the back of the building with lots of wrought iron tables and chairs and potted flowers everywhere.”
