I chose ruffles after all. I put on a soft, prairie style blouse-dress in light beige with tiny pink and green flowers. It had puffy sleeves and a high collar, but barely skimmed the tops of my thighs. I paired it with white ankle boots, and piled my hair on my head in a loose, messy bun with tendrils falling down, to frame my face and show off my lucky gold hoop earrings.
I glanced at myself a final time in the mirror as the clock read seven.
“You can do this,” I told my reflection and heaved a sigh. I plastered on a wide smile. “Hi, Sawyer! Guess what? I spent three months in jail for misdemeanor drug possession. I just wanted to do the responsible thing, and tell you that before you let me babysit your daughter again.”
I covered my eyes with my hand.
“He’s going to hate me.”
The doorbell rang.
“Oh, God.”
I sucked in deep breaths and smoothed my dress.
“Okay, here we go.”
I mustered a pitiful amount of mental fortitude, and it all fled the exact second I opened the door.
Sweet Jesus, no fair. No fair at all.
I forgot how to breathe and my heart sent rushes of heated blood throughout my entire body. Sawyer was dressed up as he had been on Saturday nigh
t, only this time he was dressed up just for me. He wore a black jacket, white dress shirt—unbuttoned at the top—black slacks and a stylish leather belt with a sleek silver buckle around his slender waist. He looked casually elegant—like a Best Man at a wedding after the ceremony was over; where every bridesmaid was ready to drop her panties for a stolen moment with him in a closet during the reception.
“I…oh my God,” I stammered, my eyes drinking him in. “You are…so hot.”
I cringed at my clumsy words but Sawyer didn’t seem to have heard.
“Darlene…” he said. “You’re...” His words tapered to nothing as his gaze swept over me unabashedly.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I joked weakly.
“Oh, I did,” he said, and gave his head a little shake. He withdrew a bouquet of three white roses from behind his back. “It’s the best I could do on short notice.”
“They’re beautiful,” I said.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. “You’re stunningly beautiful, Darlene.”
“Thank you, Sawyer,” I said, and my cheeks warmed at the lovely compliment even as my anxiety deepened into a deep blue of sadness for how I was going to ruin the perfection of this night. “I’ll just put them in some water.”
He waited by the door as I scrounged for a vase. A tall drinking glass was all I could find. I put the flowers in it with shaking hands, and grabbed my black coat. Sawyer helped me into it.
“Where are we going?” I asked in a small voice, as we headed down the stairs.
“A restaurant called Nopa,” he said, his own voice sounding thick. “Jackson said it’s a good one.”
At the bottom of the stairs, in the entry of the house, Sawyer’s hand snaked out to grab mine. He pulled me close, and his hands slipped around my waist. I melted against him as he hauled me in for a deep kiss. His tongue slid against mine, then swept through my mouth. I clung to him, the clean taste of him, the scent of his masculine cologne, the softness of his lips, the intense want that coiled in his muscles under my hands…they all bombarded my senses and threatened to melt me into a puddle at his feet.
“The kiss is supposed to come at the end of the date, but I can’t help myself,” he said, his voice gruff, his eyes dark and so beautiful in the dim light.
“You don’t have to stop,” I whispered, kissing him again. “We don’t have to go out. We can stay here. Go upstairs and…”
Not say a word.
“God, you have no idea how badly I want that.” He kissed my neck, my cheek, just under my ear. He pinned me to the wall with his body and my hips adjusted to him on their own so that he fit so perfectly against me. His erection brushed me between my legs.
“Or maybe you have some idea…” he said hoarsely.