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My phone dings and I tap the screen to see a text preview on the locked screen.
Eric:WYD?
I frown at the greeting, but tell myself to stop it. At least he contacted me.
“What’s wrong?” Taryn asks at my expression.
“Your brother sucks at texting.” I show her the screen.
She laughs. “I can’t believe he’s using text slang. I guess he’s trying. He rarely texted before... you know.” She looks around as if anyone in the restaurant gives a crap that her brother’s a convict. “So, consider it an upgrade.”
I laugh. “Okay, if you say so. I don’t mind talking on the phone. His voice is soooo sexy.”
She drops her chopsticks and says, “Stop it.”
We both burst out laughing. But it’s true. It’s deep, and sinful, and when he whispers in my ear, my panties are punished with a flood. I keep that to myself, though.
I decide to reply to his text anyway.
Me:Lunch w/your sis.
After lunch, we say our goodbyes, and each head home. It’s Saturday night and she and Carter are going out for dinner to can discuss wedding stuff.
My phone rings as soon as I get inside my little house and close the door. I smile when I see Eric calling. “Hello, sexy.”
“Well, hello, sexy yourself,” he replies in that sinful voice of his.
My nipples harden, which is a common occurrence when I hear him or see him. “What are you up to?”
I glance at the clock to see it’s nearing 5 p.m.
“Worked out, played some hoops with a few guys, grabbed a wrap for lunch. How was your day with Taryn? Get your wedding stuff done?”
We chat like this for a few minutes, and he’s being so sweet I can’t stand it. I usually go for the bad boys—and admittedly I assumed he was one, my bad—but this sweetness is winning me over too.
“You got plans tonight?” I ask casually.
“Not really. You?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Why don’t you come over and I’ll cook for you?”
“That sounds amazing, gorgeous. What time?”
“How about seven? I have the perfect meal in mind and I need to pop to the store real fast for a couple things.”
“Want me to pick them up on my way and we can make it earlier?” he asks, hopeful.
Melt.
With a little chuckle, I reply, “No, it’s okay. I got this. See you at seven.”
“You got it,” he replies.
I end the call, grab my purse from where I’d dropped it on the entryway table, and get back in my car, excited for the night.
***
Eric leans back inthe dining room chair and puts his hand on his belly. “Dammit, woman. I went way over my calories for the day. But it was worth it.”
