She was hot, sure. But not temperature hot. Straight up, boner inducing, cum in your pants hot.
Lani shoved her door open and got out. Her long, tanned legs seemed to go on forever as they reached out into the sunlight, and my gaze was drawn right toward them. My attention ghosted over her flat, strappy sandals and up her toned calves until her skin disappeared beneath a light pink skirt.
“My face is up here.”
“I know,” I said to her legs. “I’ll get there in a minute.”
She huffed and slammed her car door shut.
I didn’t hurry up checking her out. How the fuck could I? That light pink skirt was tight as shit and hugged her hips a little too well, and although her shirt was loose, the V-neck dipped just low enough that I had a good glimpse of cleavage.
Fuck, she was hot.
“My face is still up here.”
I finally looked up at her face. Her dark hair was tied away from it in a ponytail, except for her bangs. The only make-up she was wearing was mascara and whatever it was on her lips that was shiny and made me want to kiss her until it all came off.
She wasn’t hot. Looking at her now, that was almost an insult.
She was downright gorgeous.
“Earth to Brett.” She clapped her hands in front of her. “I promise not to yell at you if you speak to me.”
My mouth curved to the side. “I like it when you yell at me.”
She pursed her lips as if she was trying to hide a smile. “Are you focused again now?”
“I was focused before.”
“Okay, but can you focus on what we’re doing instead of on me?”
“That depends,” I said slowly. “Does what we’re doing involve you being naked and on top of me?”
She raised her eyebrows. “No.”
“Fuck. So close.”
“Not really.”
I shook my head and hit the button on my key fob. A beep came from my car. “Get in. Let’s go.”
Lani walked around the passenger side and got in. It took all I had not to stare as she folded her legs into the front seat of my car and shut the door.
I was damn screwed. Her legs were my weakness. Boots or no boots. Whether it was suede or skin, I was obsessed with how they’d feel around me. My neck or my waist. Shit, I wasn’t damn picky. Either way she’d be moaning my name.
I shifted in my seat and started the car. Fucking hell. I had to stop thinking about that, because if I didn’t, I’d have to pull over and try my luck at getting her in the damn back seat. I’d probably end up on the shitty end of the luck scale, but still.
“Where are we going?” Lani turned slightly in her seat and looked at me.
“Key West,” I answered. “But we need to stop at Target first.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Because it’s part of it.”
“Part of what?”
I slid my gaze toward her. “You’ll see.”
Forty-five minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of Key West’s Target store. We’d barely spoken since my refusal to tell her anything. She’d actually turned the radio up, and I didn’t know if that was to stop herself talking to me or to send me the message that she didn’t want to talk.
“Will you tell me why you’re here now?” she asked as we got out of the car.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper. “To get this.”
She took it from me with a frown. The paper scratched as she pried it open with a gentle hand and looked at it. “Superhero scooter?” Her gaze rose from the paper to mine. “I don’t understand.”
A small smile curved my lips. “You will. Come on.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the store. She was still holding the small bit of paper as I released her and grabbed a cart.
“This is in a kid’s handwriting,” she said quietly, following me in.
“I know.”
“What are you doing?”
“I told you. You’ll see.” I smiled over my shoulder and headed for the party section. I needed balloons, banners, and candles. Hats too. Oh, and a big old badge with number seven on it.
Lani followed me without a word. Her eyes barely left mine as I pulled all the things off of the hooks and dropped them into the cart.
A part of me wanted to tell her exactly what I was doing. It was the same part of me that was desperate to make her want me, but not because I wanted her. Because I wasn’t the person I’d acted like for years.
I wanted her to see that. Somehow though, I knew words wouldn’t be enough. She needed to see it before I could tell her everything. Maybe then she’d understand...Just a little.
When we got to the aisle with the scooters and bikes, I stopped in front of the scooters. “If you were a seven-year-old boy, would you prefer Batman or Spiderman?”
“I, uh...” Lani paused. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been a seven-year-old boy.”
I laughed quietly. “You’re right.”
“I think you can pick either. They’re not that different.”
“All right,” I said, cutting her a look. “They’re wildly different, and a seven-year-old boy will tell you so, so don’t say that again.”
“Noted.” Her smile was small but somehow packed an amused punch. “Can I ask why you’re buying a scooter for a seven-year-old boy?”
I put the Batman one in the cart and shrugged. “Because it’s his birthday. Do you think they make superhero cakes?”
“Probably...” She trailed off.
I pushed the cart toward the cakes.
“Brett—what are you doing?”
“What part of you’ll see don’t you understand?”
“All of it,” she shot at me with a hefty dose of sarcasm. “If I understood, I wouldn’t be asking.”
“You’re so sassy.”
“Only when you piss me off.”
“Avengers are superheroes aren’t they?”
She threw her arms out to the side. “Why are you asking me? Do I look like I—wait. Avengers. Is that Thor?”
I put my hands on the cake and eyed her. “Yes...”
A slow, dreamy smile crept across her face. “Mhmm. He’s a superhero. He could hammer me any day.”
“Okaaaay.” I put the cake in the cart and turned toward the registers. “You’ll let a fictional guy hammer you but not me. Boy, that makes me feel good.”
“Are you Chris Hemsworth?”
“No, but I’m also not married.”
Lani pursed her lips. “Touché.”
I grinned as we reached the register. She was still glaring at me, probably because I just reminded her that her apparent celebrity crush is married and unavailable.
“Don’t pout, kitten.”
“You know, in my dreams, Chris Hemsworth is single and you’re gagged.” She put the balloons on the belt.
“Am I at least in the same room?”
She blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering quickly. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Say yes,” the dude behind the register said as he scanned the scooter. “Yes is always the answer.”
“Now I remember why I left Florida,” Lani muttered. “You’re all pervs.”
“Ah, yes, and California, home of the porn industry, is jam-packed with non-pervs,” I said dryly.
“And you think I’m the sassy one.” She folded her arms as I paid.
I tucked my wallet back inside my pocket and steered the cart to the doors. “Men aren’t sassy.”
“And women aren’t kittens, but that doesn’t seem to stop you calling me it.”