Cheesy on the Eyes by Teagan Hunter Page 0,47

me on that?”

My dad studies me, looking for anything that’s going to give away the true turmoil building inside me.

I must be getting good at lying because he backs down.

“Okay, but if you need me—for anything—I’m always here, peanut.”

I smile at the nickname. “I know, and I love you for it.”

“Good. I’m gonna head home, see what trouble your mom’s getting Frankie and Jonas into with their wedding plans.” He raps his knuckles on the doorframe. “Don’t stay here too much later. I don’t want you wasting your Saturday night at work. Plus, you need rest. You’re working too much lately. You’re going to turn into an old, grumpy man like me if you don’t take a break every now and then.”

“Dad…”

“Direct order from owner to employee. Take a break. You hear me?”

I stand up tall and salute him sarcastically. “Yes, sir.”

He shakes his head, walking out the door and muttering something about me being a smartass.

When I hear the front door creak closed, I blow out a breath and turn my attention back to the car I’m working on.

It’s for an out-of-towner who wants a tune-up before making the trek back to whatever mountain he came from. I promised we’d have it in tip-top shape by eight AM tomorrow, and I just need to finish putting his air filter on and topping off his liquids, then he should be good to go.

I hear the front door open a few minutes later, and I chuckle.

“Forget something, old man?” I call out.

“No.”

“Holy…” I squeak, jumping around to face the intruder. “Shit! What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, ran into your dad outside. He let me in,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. “I don’t think he likes me much.”

I snicker. “He doesn’t like any guy who tries to date me. Not since the last ordeal…” I trail off, but Sully knows I’m referring to my ex.

He nods like that makes sense as he stands in the doorway with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking as hot as ever. His jeans hug his long legs in just the right way. He wears a plain gray t-shirt like a fucking runway model, and his trusty ball cap is sitting backward atop his head. A five-o’clock shadow covers his jawline, and an ache settles between my legs as I imagine how it would feel sliding across my center.

I drag my eyes to his, and I’m surprised to find him staring at me so intently. His dark blues look nearly black, and I can’t decide if it’s due to anger, desire, or both.

Swallowing the lump that’s formed in my throat, I drop my gaze to the floor. “What are you doing here, Sully?” I repeat quietly.

“I’m here because you’re here.”

“Why?”

“Because I miss you.”

He says it with such certainty, such honesty, and I like that.

His truth, how real he is.

I know what I’m getting with him. I trust him.

But I’ve trusted someone before, and it got me nothing but hurt. That’s why I need to keep Sully at arm’s length.

“You shouldn’t.”

His eyes harden. “Well that’s too fucking bad, Thea. I do.”

Suddenly he’s standing before me, having crossed the room in a flash. He’s so close I could reach out and touch him, but I don’t.

Just like I don’t take a step back when he eliminates the distance between us, even though I know I should.

His chest brushes against me, his hand coming up to cup my face. He caresses my cheek, coaxing my head back until I’m looking up at him.

“I miss talking to you,” he continues, eyes boring into me. “Having you around. Hearing you laugh or demand sweets. I miss the smell of apples and vanilla lingering when you leave even though I don’t want you to go.” His gaze lingers on my lips. “You kissed me.”

I jut my chin out, not backing down. “I did.”

“You broke a rule.”

“I did,” I say again.

“I think it’s only fair that I break one too, then.”

Without warning, he swoops me off my feet and I wrap my legs around him on instinct.

He walks us backward until my ass is sitting on top of the workbench. He settles between my legs and heat seeps into my core, heart hammering with anticipation.

One hand slides into my hair, which is pulled back with a clip—my go-to hairstyle when I’m working—and he pulls the piece of plastic free.

“That’s better,” he mutters, massaging his fingers through my short locks, dropping his mouth to a spot right beside my lips.

He places soft,