“Those memories—that’s why you don’t date? You’re afraid of being hurt again?”
“No, not specifically. Heartbreak is a part of life. I can handle that.” I glance across the lawn, more away from him than at anything in particular. “I’m just being very picky this time around. Unless someone is one hundred percent worth it and in it the same as I am, I’m not taking my energy away from what I need to do for me and Hux. It just seems pointless.”
He nods and sort of takes it all in before pushing away from the table. Startled, I watch him come around and offer me his hand.
Pulling me to my feet, we take the few steps down the porch and onto the lawn. The grass is soft under my shoes, the smell of fall dancing through the air.
“It will be winter soon,” he says, more to himself than anything. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last few years, it’s that you can never predict what life’s going to throw at you one day to the next, just like you can’t predict the weather.”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this, so I don’t reply.
He looks at me through the corner of his bright green eyes. “Nothing you do in life, even the things you think you have figured out—they aren’t guaranteed.”
“True.”
“But at the same time, you have to take some risks to reap rewards.”
“I’m not much of a risk taker.”
He turns to face me, searching me for something. I can smell his cologne heating under the warm afternoon sun as he rolls back the cufflinks of his shirt. His forearms are tanned and toned, adorned with his silver watch. It’s a mix of casual and sophisticated, boy-next-door meets powerful enigma.
“Do you see me as a risk, Alison?”
My breath catches in my throat. “Absolutely.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re . . . you,” I whisper.
Before I know what’s happening, he takes the step that separates us. His body is nearly touching mine, a paper-thin margin the only thing between us.
I look up into his eyes, see the stubble dotting his hard jaw line, the slight angle to his nose that gives him more sex appeal than it takes away.
Our eyes lock. After a slight hesitation, his face lowers inch-by-torturous-inch.
I take in a quick breath as our lips touch. The contact zips through me, making me tingle from head to toe. His hands fall to the small of my back, gently yet firmly encouraging me to draw closer to him.
Pulling back shakily, I see his breathing is as erratic as mine. We watch each other like we don’t know whether to devour the other or walk our separate ways.
I want the first, but know I need to do the second. The look in his eyes tells me he feels the same way. I can’t be much good for his campaign either. As I turn over the options in my mind, what I want and what I need, the alarm goes off on my phone.
Barrett watches with confusion as I pull the device out of my pocket and turn it off.
“I have to go,” I say, my tone mixed with regret and relief. “I’m working tonight for Luxor. I have to be there a little early, hence the alarm.”
He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the silky locks. His jaw opens and shuts before he finally looks resolved. “Okay.”
With a little slump in his shoulders, he leads me around the side of the house.
The pace is quick and my nerves bound right along with it. I’m not sure how to wrap this up. My head spins a thousand different options, but before I know it, he stops and pulls me in front of him.
“Do you want to see me again?”
It’s a simple question, yet one I stumble to answer.
“Barrett . . .”
“That’s not a no.”
“That’s not a yes, either,” I grin.
He smiles, too, and it ingrains itself in my memory. “I’ll call you soon. Maybe we can find a day we both have open.”
“Maybe.”
“I’d like that.”
“I think I’d like that, too,” I whisper.
His eyes light up and he starts to speak, but seems to think better of it. Instead, he kisses my cheek again and walks me to my car.
Barrett
MY BODY IS SWEATY FROM the workout with my personal trainer. Instead of going to the gym, he came here. We worked out with free weights and did some simple cardio.
I strip off my soaked t-shirt when my phone rings. I see it’s Daphne, but I answer it anyway. I still need her father’s endorsement, so I can’t just ignore her like I want to. That wouldn’t go over well.
“Hey,” I say, sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island.
“Hey, Barrett,” she sings in her melodramatic way. “How are you?”
“Good. Just finished a workout.”
“Nice. Do you have any plans this evening?”
I look around the empty kitchen and shrug. “No, not really. Just some work I need to finish up. I got a little behind today.”
Memories of Alison on the porch of my family home makes me feel warm all over. It’s normally an off-putting feeling to have a woman anywhere near my family and our things, but with her, it seems normal. Organic.
“Barrett?”