Thunder - Willow Summers Page 0,18

I have to, jeans’ll do me.”

“And you wear suits to work?”

“How’d you know?”

He shrugged. “Usually people who are forced into one extreme do the opposite when they get a choice.”

It was a good cover. Much better than I stalked you. No, no, don’t worry, it wasn’t to plan a way to kill you or anything. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t crazy. You can feel safe traveling on a dark road with me, no problem.

“It’s a pity, because these shoes are really cute,” she muttered, swishing her dress away and analyzing her shoes.

“You can wear them when you don’t have to walk as much.”

“I’d need a donkey to carry me from place to place.” She huffed and swished her dress back into place.

“I’m going to have to twirl you on the dance floor,” he said, following the navigation.

“Why is that?”

“Because clearly you like seeing your dress move.”

“Oh.” She smoothed the fabric over her thighs. “It’s really pretty. I hardly ever splurge like this.”

He wanted to ask why she didn’t splurge more often, since her position paid her well and she obviously liked the dress. But that was a no-no on the job, not to mention money talk was often viewed as socially awkward. Instead, he let the silence descend, remembering her hatred of forced communication.

“We’re going to have to touch each other at the wedding,” he said after a moment. He wasn’t trained for silence on these gigs. Autopilot was a bitch.

“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate.

“If we’ve been together for a year, we would’ve had sex.”

“One would think so, yes.”

“We’ll need to touch each other with that in mind. Would you like to set some ground rules?”

“Sure.” She didn’t turn away from the window. “Don’t touch my butt, my punanny, or my breasts. I won’t touch your crotch or your butt. If we need to kiss, a quick peck on the cheek or lips will be plenty. If you want to go overboard, I’ve always wanted a guy to kiss me sweetly on the inside of my wrist. Not my palm, though, because you don’t know where it’s been.

“We’ll need to stand close, but I’ll only drape myself over you if he tries to show off with his chick or something. I’ll definitely have the hottest date at the wedding, so I’ll win that competition. I think he’s a salesman or something, so I’ve also got him beat when it comes to work. But he’s wily, and doesn’t care about people’s feelings, so he might get creative. If that happens, I will fuck you six ways from Sunday if it will somehow keep the past from repeating itself. When push comes to shove, do whatever will win the day, and I’ll compensate you.”

A surge of warmth filled his gut as his cock stiffened. He had not expected that language from her mouth. The intensity of his hard-on shocked him. It felt like he was first starting out in this gig. What had gotten old and, frankly, depressing felt exciting and new. Unpredictable.

So fucking hot.

Blowing out a breath, he tried to think of something to say. But he could only replay her words. The passion in them. And think of how warm her hand had felt on his arm when they’d walked side by side.

“I was kidding,” she said softly. She must’ve thought she’d gone too far.

“No, you weren’t,” he whispered. “And don’t stress. He isn’t paying a hundred dollars a plate to humiliate you. We won’t have to resort to extreme measures.”

“You don’t know him and his friends.”

Colton could hear the past haunting her words. Whatever they’d done must’ve been truly mortifying and cruel for her to have carried it around all these years.

Not realizing what he was doing until he’d done it, he laid his hand on her knee. She flinched, but didn’t push it off.

“My friends and I were young and dumb once, too. We were assholes from time to time,” he said. “But those attitudes go away. He won’t be looking to hurt you again.”

“Then there are the mean girls.”

“They grow up, too.”

“Sure. Into catty women. They’ll probably be there. I’m sure they’ll remember. They’ll see you, get jealous, and want to tear me down. While cackling. They were really great at, like, super-loud cackling. So there’s that angle, as well. Catty assholes.”

“Okay. Well, if we meet the catty assholes, I’ll fuck you on the dance floor, then take you back to the table and fuck you there, too. Hell, I’ll spread wedding cake on your