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Micah:I’ll come pick you up around eleven?
I wanted to send heart emojis and kissy faces but settled for a simple thumbs-up.
It figured I would cut myself shaving, but that was what I got for rushing. I had an hour to get ready, but the nervousness kept tremors shuddering through my body, making preciseness a joke. I opted for a few swipes of waterproof mascara, and that was it. Had I attempted more, I probably would have ended up in the ER with an eyeliner pencil somehow jammed into my eye.
I stood by the window, chewing on a fingernail, my heart jumping—no vise squeezing. “He’s here!” I squealed, turning around.
Both of my parents had gotten up and ready for the day but had returned to their favorite spots in the living room for a day of relaxing and doing nothing—their usual Saturday routine.
“Do we get to meet him?” Dad asked, standing and setting aside the paper he’d been reading.
“I’d love you to,” I said, hurrying to the door.
Micah’s gaze flitted down over my see-through cover-up thrown over the olive green bikini I wore. His brows rose as his gaze met mine, but he straightened and smiled, holding out his hand.
Dad, I noted, suddenly realizing he’d come up behind me. “Micah,” I said and cleared my throat and moved to the side, “this is my dad, Frank.”
“Mr. Swift.” Micah stepped up onto the stoop’s top step and shook Daddy’s hand.
“Mr. Fox, come on in.”
I moved back and shut the door behind Micah. Dad wasn’t a small man at six foot, but Micah towered over him by a good three inches, making the entryway seem stiflingly small. I found myself leaning toward Micah, wanting to touch rather than shying away as I would have done a month ago.
“My wife, Marsha,” Daddy said as Mom moved toward us.
Appreciation for his virility and hot looks lit in Mom’s eyes. She might be in her early sixties, but she wasn’t dead yet. “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Fox.”
“Same to you,” Micah replied, shaking her hand.
“Dina always spoke so highly of you,” Mom said.
“Past tense?” Micah asked, glancing down at me with a smirk.
Mom’s light laughter tinkled in the tiny area. “She claims you’re an honorable man, which is why she encouraged Jasmine to work for you.”
Micah turned back toward my parents, and my feet itched to get going before I grew embarrassed or antsy from the lies both Dina and I had told our conservative parents. At least Micah knew we’d kept the truth about his business from them and wouldn’t open his mouth and insert his foot.
“You have hardworking, lovely daughters,” Micah claimed, sending warmth through my chest. “I’ve been blessed to have them both in the office. I hope I never have to hire anyone else, because I’ll never be able to fill Jasmine’s shoes.”
I damn near swooned to the floor while Dad beamed, and Mom’s face glowed.
“So!” I grabbed my beach bag from where I’d set it by the front door. “Ready to go?” I couldn’t get out to the car fast enough—I knew that glint in my mom’s eyes and wasn’t about to give her the opportunity to invite Micah for dinner.
I wanted him all to myself.
I settled back in the air-conditioned car and clicked my seatbelt as Micah shut my door and made his way around the front. Movement in my periphery pulled my attention to the neighbor’s house. An overweight man hurried around the corner and out of sight into the backyard. He wasn’t Mr. Donovan, our neighbor.
I rubbed goose bumps from my arm and turned back around as Micah slid into the driver’s seat.
“Ready for some sun and sand?” he asked, hitting the ignition button.
I’m ready for much more than that.I bit my tongue, capturing my runaway mouth just in time from embarrassing me. “Absolutely,” I said instead. “Then pizza and ice cream, and a final long walk on the beach as the sun sets.”
Micah chuckled and pulled away from the curb. “No room for spontaneity?”
“I’m game for pretty much anything.” A definite hint toward the physical laced my voice.
“Anything?” His smirk and sideways glance warmed my face and settled heat between my thighs.
