I threw back my head with a laugh. “No. I think I’m just going on faith tonight.”
I just hoped I wasn’t being beyond stupid.
Four
He stood and came toward me. “You sure about this? A few minutes ago, I was trying to convince you I wasn’t a serial killer.”
I backed up a step. “Playing panther and prey isn’t the way to go.”
But there was no fear in my heart. Maybe a little below my non-existent belt, but it was more like I wasn’t sure what to expect. In a good way. Because a man like Rory didn’t come around very often.
Even if I didn’t know he was probably famous in some way, he didn’t quite vibe with the town. He was too restless and his brain seemed to be going a million miles an hour.
Not like the people who lived here.
The townsfolk weren’t exactly sluggish, but they definitely were not constantly looking forward. Here, it was about the moment. At least it was for me.
And this was a moment I was going to soak in like a tub full of my favorite bath bomb.
He crowded into me and I put my hand up to…touch him? Ward him off? Pretend I just didn’t touch cashmere for the first time in my damn life? Ugh. I smoothed my hand along his rock-hard belly to his chest.
I finally looked up and his eyes were carefully taking me in as I touched him. His hands were at his sides, easy as you please.
“Not here, my little fairy. I don’t think your boss wants an eyeful of all the things going through my mind.”
I swallowed. “Is that right? Who says he would know?”
He nodded lightly toward the kitchen door. “Those bushy eyebrows in the window of the door, maybe?”
“Dammit.” I really wanted to know just what his first move would be. Was he a grabber? What kind of kisser? Intense and hard? A teasing brush of dry lips?
I refused to think about him doing anything I didn’t like. This was my fantasy and I was going to think positively. Not like one of the frat boys I hooked up with in college, or my last boyfriend, whose technique in the kissing department left a lot to be desired.
As far as I was concerned, Rory was exactly the fantasy fuck I wanted him to be.
“Whatever is going on in that brain of yours, hold onto it for…like eight minutes.”
“What happens in eight minutes? And hopefully, you last longer than that.”
His laugh was harsh and delighted at the same time. Not sure how he managed that, but it made my toes curl. “Sweet mother Mary, you will be the death of me tonight.”
My smile was quick and bright. “Is that so? I don’t think I’ve been the death of any man.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
I pressed my lips together and backed out of his weird gravitational pull. Even with the platforms, he was a good head taller than me. The good kind of height that meant I could crawl up him and hang on for a good long bit of fun. “Let me just get my stuff.”
“All right.”
I swallowed and spun around, pushing through the door to the kitchen.
“Know what you’re doing, ladybug?”
I paused at the lockers. “Probably not.”
Mitch grunted. “Let me know if I have to castrate him.”
I looked over my shoulder. “Did you get a bad vibe?” I believed in vibes. It was hard to hold onto faith like my parents. They were so certain in all the things. Church, life, raising their kids. I was the youngest girl with two older brothers. August, who was just as steady and sure as my parents, and Caleb, who thought the only sure thing was how fast he could get a girl naked. Then there was me, the baby, who never really knew where she was meant to fit.