Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,26
to turn around, the Payton family was leaving the restaurant, Cal at the helm.
Her first thought was, Take me with you.
Instead, she turned around and faced her family, swallowing the rest of her wine along with an overdose of glares, heavy sighs, and guilt, courtesy of her family.
Chapter Eight
CAL IDLED HIS Harley at the stop sign. He stared down Jenna’s street and chewed on the corner of his thumb until it bled. Then he started on the other hand.
He should turn around and go home. After that night in his tow truck, he’d vowed to stay away from Jenna. Despite his resolve, she consumed his thoughts to the point of distraction. He’d stuck to his guns, right up until he’d seen her at the damn restaurant tonight.
Among all those people there dressed to the nines, Jenna had stood out. The beautiful smile, that mass of hair. It’d been like the sun beamed down on her from a skylight above her head. Only her. Like usual, his Sunshine was the brightest in the room. She’d shined like a beacon through that shit-show.
She’d given him that smile, the one that made him feel like they were on their own private island, despite the chaos around them. The rest of the world went dark, and it was just her, and she had eyes only for him, making him feel like the most important thing on earth.
She’d always made him feel like that. That he was worth something. That he mattered.
The feeling was mutual.
He should go to his house. Alone. But the thought of going home and seeing that birthday card on his kitchen table—the one from Jill—made his heart clench. He should have thrown it away when he saw her name, like he usually did. How the hell did she get his new address anyway? He suspected Brent had something to do with it, the damn peacemaker.
With a growl and a flick of his wrist, he roared onto her road and then cut into her driveway. She wanted the out-of-control kid? The impulsive one who couldn’t get enough of her? Well then, fine. He’d be that for a night. Give them both what they craved, and then they’d be free. The plan made total sense in his head, so he didn’t dig deeper into what he was really doing. He didn’t hesitate, because if he did, then he might abandon this whole thing.
He did feel out of control, but the kicker was, it felt damn good. He liked this pull in his heart, tugging him toward Jenna. It was exhilarating, like a drug. How had he lived without this for ten years?
He knocked on her front door, shifting his weight back and forth, realizing he hadn’t changed out of these damn fancy clothes.
A light turned on inside the house; he could see it through the small oval window at the top of the door. He imagined—hoped, because that was safe—she was looking through the peephole at him. So he stared right back.
There was no sound. Nothing.
“Jenna,” he said firmly, knowing his deep voice would carry.
Another pause, then the click of the deadbolt. He lowered his gaze and watched the doorknob turn. Then the door opened, and Jenna was standing in the doorway, light spilling out onto the front porch from behind her. She was wearing a short, thin blue robe. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
Her face was free of makeup, and she stood with one foot on top of the other.
She was so fucking beautiful, his chest hurt. He wanted to fall to his knees at her feet and beg forgiveness. He’d take any fucking scraps from her right now, as long as it was something, anything, to put him out of his misery.
Anything to make him feel, one more time, that he was worth something.
She licked her lips, and he tracked that pink tongue. “Cal?”
In one step he was inside the house. With his booted foot, he slammed the door closed behind him, blindly turning the lock. Then he grabbed Jenna’s face in both hands and crashed his lips onto hers.
Her hands flew up, gripping his biceps, her little nails digging in through the fabric of his shirt. Cal wasn’t messing around as he swiped his tongue over the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. But she kept her lips shut tight.
He should have known she’d make him work for this. He pressed kisses to the corners of her mouth, to her cheekbones, to