I also had my sexy undies on and, just in case, had been wearing nothing but those every time I saw Chace which meant every day since I’d bought them. I’d changed out of my work skirt and into jeans, brushed my hair and done the run through a spritz of perfume routine. I was chewing on a piece of bubblemint because Chace told me in a growl during a make out session he loved the way I tasted. So if bubblemint was an addiction before, suffice it to say it was an obsession now.
And I was nervous as all fraking heck.
His house came in sight and I knew it was his because he told me it was the only one surrounded by a white picket fence. He also had the porch light on and there were some bright floodlights at the side of the house that were lighting up the lane and the drive.
I grabbed the wrapper, spit my gum in it, balled it up, threw it in my cup holder, deep breathed and turned in his drive.
I parked, set the parking brake and when I went for my door, I saw the door to Chace’s house open. Chace, in jeans, a shirt and a kickass sweater, was walking out of it.
The deep breathing stopped working.
I managed to grab my bag, throw open the door and jump out. I slammed the door and walked up the cleared path, my eyes to Chace. He was standing at the top of the porch steps following my progress with his eyes at the same time looking outrageously hot. I figured this last wasn’t because his outfit was better than any other I’d seen him in because it wasn’t. Nothing beat the outfit he wore to The Rooster. Not even when I saw the faded jeans shirt in its full glory.
It was because I was hoping I’d very soon see him out of his clothes altogether and I figured it would be a good view.
I kept deep breathing, stopped at the foot of the steps and looked up at all his gorgeousness.
Nervous, fearing I’d pass out, I said the first idiotic thing that came to mind and luckily it was just idiotic and not mortifying.
“Do you like dogs and cats?”
His head jerked and I watched his eyes, warm on me even in the cold night, blink.
“What?”
“Dogs and cats. Do you like them?” I pressed on regardless of the fact it made me sound like an idiot. I’d started down this road. I had to follow it to its fruition. Hopefully, though, it was less a road and more like a short lane.
“Will my answer affect whether or not you’ll come into the house to eat?” he asked back.
“No,” I answered then added a partial truth. “I’m coming in because I’m hungry.”
“Then cats, yeah, if they’re the friendly kind who don’t mind being pet and don’t act like they own you rather than the other way around. Dogs, yeah, without any conditions,” he finally answered.
“I’ve known a lot of friendly cats but I don’t know any who don’t act like they own you rather than the other way around,” I shared.
“Then cats, no,” he amended his answer and continued with his own question, “Baby, you wanna tell me why we’re standing outside talking about cats and dogs?”
I didn’t because a smarter conversation would be about birds and bees.
I didn’t share that.
Instead I said, “I’m thinking about getting one. A cat or a dog, I mean.”
“Is my answer a deal breaker?”
“In what sense?”
“In the sense that if I say no, I don’t like one or the other, you won’t come into the house and eat.”
“I already answered that.”
“Yeah, darlin’, but I said no to cats and you haven’t come into the house yet.”
“Oh, right,” I whispered.
I fell silent.
So did Chace.