She looks down at her phone, nodding before setting it back in her purse. “Of course it is. Davis genes, honey. We can never take a bad photo.”
I step up to the island and pull the shoebox out from behind my back. A crease forms between her eyebrows as I slide it across the counter.
“I wanted you to have this. There’s so many pictures of me in here. Ones when I was a baby, up until right before my momma died. I thought you could look through them and live out some of the memories with me.”
Hattie attempts to blink away her tears, but a few slip past her lashes and drop to her cheeks. She brushes them away quickly and places a hand on top of the shoebox.
“You are just the sweetest thing, Beth. Thank you. Of course I won’t keep this. These are yours, but I would love to look through them.”
“There might be a few of me with my mom. I don’t think I’ve ever really looked through the entire box.”
She pops off the lid and peers inside. “Would you mind if I scanned them into the computer? I’d love to get copies printed.”
“Nope. I don’t mind.” I grab a mint from the small dish in front of me and pop it into my mouth. When she doesn’t say anything more, I think Hattie is flipping through the photos, until I look up and catch her eyes on me.
“Are you sure this isn’t a real date?” she asks, lifting a skeptical brow.
Her question has me biting down on the mint, shattering it into pieces. I bring a hand up to my mouth to shield her from bits of peppermint as I respond. “I don’t think he sees this as a real date.” I chew up the mint quickly, fearing I’ll choke if I don’t get this down before she asks me anything else.
She tilts her head. “But do you?”
I swallow down the last bite of mint and wipe my fingers along my mouth, removing any trace of it. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly, watching her expression somber a bit. “I like him. I know that.”
The doorbell sounds behind me, causing my chest to pinch. I look over my shoulder as a loud, breathy exhale pushes past my lips. The chill of peppermint cools my mouth while my skin becomes hot with excitement.
He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.
Reed.
“Beth?”
“Hmm?” A gentle touch on my shoulder has me spinning my head back around, meeting the curious stare of my aunt.
She laughs gently, then nods in the direction of the door. “You might want to get that before he starts banging.”
Reed. Banging. Banging Reed.
I move quickly through the kitchen, waving a hand over my head at my aunt. “Don’t wait up!” I yell, grabbing the small clutch off the table in the entry way.
I pull the door open and pray for a Reed who disappoints. One who didn’t dress up for this, because I’d like the use of my vocabulary.
Maybe he’s hoping for the same thing as our eyes move over each other. Maybe we’re both caught up, struggling to communicate. He’s not wearing shorts and a T-shirt. He totally dressed up for this. I open my mouth to speak. He does the same. One word is shared between us.
“Fuck.”
And we both say it.
Reed
THOSE FUCKING BOOTS.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Heels, I guess. Most women wear heels with dresses. But Beth isn’t most women. I knew that before I drove over here tonight. Hell, I knew it a week ago. I should’ve been prepared. Before I got dressed, I jacked off in the shower, but maybe I should’ve done it more than once. Maybe she knows I’ve pictured her in nothing but those boots while I live out my dirtiest fantasies, and that’s why she’s wearing them. Maybe she’s trying to kill me slowly. What a fucking way to go though. Looking at her, right now, like this. Alone, there is nothing sexy about those boots. But those legs, in that fucking tiny black dress that’s hugging every perfect curve of her body . . .
“Fuck.”
She says it too. I imagine her tacking on another word. Me or yes or please. Her ass in my hands while she whispers it against my lips. The word getting stuck in her throat while I fuck her mouth.
Shit. Not helping.
She shuts the door behind her and steps down onto the small porch I’m standing on. Her hand flattens against my tie. “You look nice.”
“Nice?” I ask, tilting my head. “That pretty mouth of yours just cursed at the sight of me. We both know I look damn good.” Her fingers pinch the material of my tie, then release it all too quickly as she gauges me with uncertainty. “You look damn good too, sweetheart.”
She wets her lips. “Thanks. So do you.”
A smirk tugs at my mouth. Fuck, I love that I do that to her. Make her forget what she’s just said.
I guide her down the steps with a hand on her lower back. “We covered that already. But if you want to continue boosting my ego, you can tell me all night long how amazing I look. No guy minds hearing that.”
Her eyes narrow before she swats at me with her purse. “Like your head can afford to get any bigger.”
“It can. I’m actually not told that enough.” I step up behind her after she opens the passenger door. “Ready?” I ask, hands gripping her waist.