more pathetic than if I didn’t go at all. So, I need you to pretend to be my date… or well, you know, go as my friend, but if anyone asks, maybe we could pretend like we’re more than friends?”
Her words flood out in a nervous, jumbled mess. But I think I get the gist—Tempest has a class reunion and she needs to go to save face and she wants me to be her date. I try not to let a smug smile creep onto my face, but I fail. Instead, I turn my head to look out at the club, making it look like I’m just doing my job.
“Uh, I guess I could do that… I mean, we’re friends,” I tell her, keeping my tone casual. Nothing to see here, move along. “And friends don’t let friends go to ten year class reunions alone.”
I turn back to her just in time to see a wide smile split her beautiful face, reaching all the way to her eyes. I think for a split second she’s going to leap off her barstool and hug me, or better yet, kiss me. But instead, she bounces in her seat and claps her hands. “Thank you. Seriously, I’ll owe you an entire batch of whatever muffins you want for the next year.” I could go for being paid in Tempest’s muffin… muffins. I mean muffins, like the baked variety… sweet and delicious.
Cut it the fuck out, Cage.
“Well, I definitely can’t pass up a deal like that.”
She reaches into a bag that she’d set down at her feet and pulls out a box I recognize from the bakery. “I was hoping you’d say yes. Consider these a down payment.”
Cracking the box open, the smell of chocolate and cherries practically knocks me off the barstool. “Fuck,” I groan, immediately picking one up and lifting it to my mouth. Most of the time, I’m not an instant gratification kind of guy. I typically take my time, knowing the best things in life take hard work and patience. Being a fighter taught me that. But right now, sitting on this barstool in a strip club in Green Valley, Tennessee, all of that goes flying out the window.
I want this delicious looking muffin… that appears to be more of a mini cake than a muffin… and I want it now… almost as much as I want the woman who made it. Taking one bite makes my eyes roll into the back of my damn head.
Heaven.
Fucking gooey, delicious heaven.
“It’s uh, Going Through the Big D… and I don’t mean Dallas,” Tempest says hesitantly, adding on a nervous chuckle at the end. “It’s like, if a Texas Sheet Cake had a baby with a Black Forest Cake… but in a muffin… with chocolate drizzled over the top… I mean, go big or go home, right?”
That nervous, jumbled mess is back and I’d like nothing more than to shut her up with my mouth on hers, tasting her. I bet she tastes even better than her muffins.
Is Dallas in reference to me? I almost ask, but hesitate. That sounds a little conceited, even in my head. Speaking it out loud would definitely make me come off as an egotistical prick. But then Tempest sets the record straight.
“A little you… a little me.”
The gorgeous blush on her cheeks steals any words I might have, so instead of comments, I just take another bite and swallow down my desire… for now.
Chapter 13
Tempest
Milk
Cereal
Bread
I mentally run through my grocery list because, of course, I forgot to bring my notepad with my actual list on it. I swear, I can’t focus on shit these days. I’d blame the divorce or the ongoing stress of selling the house, but I’d be lying.
It’s Cage.
It’s always fucking Cage.
Actually, not fucking Cage, to be exact.
I don’t remember ever having this many naughty thoughts about Asher or anyone before, not even when my teenage hormones were supposedly running rampant, but I cannot get Cage Erickson out of my head.
Our midday kickboxing classes are really the culprit but there’s no way I can quit. I don’t want to, for one. For two, they’re fun and exciting. And best of all, they’re working. I’ve changed in so many ways over the last few weeks—positive changes… confidence, better sleep, less stress—that any lady blue balls I’m suffering are worth it.
Who can blame me, though?
Being that close to Cage—with his perfect, sweaty muscles and his ice-blue eyes—for any amount of time would bring most sane women