And now she seemed bold and brave and confident. Steam rolling back into his life, almost as if they were picking up where they’d left off after their first date.
Did he dare give her a second chance?
Could he survive if things went south again?
“What are you doing today?” she asked.
“I was planning on sleeping,” he responded dryly.
She mounted the first step and her smile widened. “So, no plans?”
He blew out a sigh. How could she be so freaking awake at, he glanced at his watch again, 7:55am.
“No.”
“Good.” She climbed another step.
“Why is that good?”
“I have a date all planned out.” She gripped the handrail. “But I'd rather talk about it inside, wouldn't you?”
He glanced over her head and saw the blinds move in Seamus's living room slide. Busybody. David jerked his head, waving her inside.
In the middle of his kitchen, she turned, and her gaze set his skin on fire. His body remembered exactly what had gone down the last time she’d been here. He remembered the sound of her moan, the heat of her breath, the cute little dimple on the inside of her left thigh.
God help him, he wanted a repeat.
She cleared her throat and shoved her hands in her pockets. As if that could keep her away from him.
All he had to do is close the two steps between them and he’d bet his truck that she’d melt into his arms.
“You’re going to need clothes. Casual is fine.”
Her words, combined with the way she stared at his chest, made him extra aware of how little he was wearing.
Fuck. How was it a grown assed man couldn’t control his own thoughts?
He raked a hand through his hair. “I don't think this is a good idea.”
“You will when I tell you where we're going.” She worried her lower lip and for a split second, her confidence dimmed. “At least, I hope you will.”
“Where are we going?”
Her gaze was busy tracing his navel and god help him...did she just lick her lips?
“Sabrina.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes snapped back up to his.
“Where are we going?”
“Can you please put some clothes on? You're terribly distracting.”
Yeah, well that made two of them. Her purple sweater hugged her curves and the V-neck hinted at cleavage he now knew personally. The dark wash jeans clung to her hips and thighs. And God help him, the knee-high boots were straight out of his dreams.
Did she have any idea how sexy she was? Like a breath of fresh air breezing into his life. Despite the early hour, aching temples and lack of sleep, he found the thin scarf draped around her neck very intriguing. It was long enough that he could tie her arms and her feet.
“David!”
Her voice pierced his bubble of lust and he zoned in. She was staring at his crotch and he followed her gaze.
Fuck.
His cock tented the front of the black boxers, leaving nothing to the imagination. Now she knew just how much he wanted her and it'd be that much harder to get rid of her.
“I'll be right back.”
After dressing in jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel, he strode back down the hall and found her making coffee. She hummed a tune as she pulled two mugs from the overhead cabinet. He liked that she knew her way around his kitchen and that she seemed happy there. While he’d never expect a woman to cook for him every day, he did appreciate being taken care of.
Who wouldn’t?
And when his care taker looked like that…
He couldn't stop himself from admiring the view. Those jeans were made for that ass. The smattering of sparkles and intricate metallic thread adorning the back pockets was like a bullseye. His fingers longed to cup and mold her shapely curves. He was positive she hadn’t been hiding that figure beneath the shapeless clothes she’d worn in high school.
In fact, he’d wager she did a hundred squats a day to get an ass like that.
Down boy.
“So.”
She turned and leaned against the counter, her hands braced next to her hips. Could she be anymore endearing? Somewhere in the last fifteen years, she’d grown comfortable in her own skin. Confident in her place in life.
And right now, she was completely relaxed in his home, as if she belonged there. “So.”
He raised a brow in question, waiting.
“Teo said you're a fan of Allen Croft.” The corner of her magnificent mouth pulled up a fraction in a way that made him want to kiss the crinkle at the corner.
Instead, he grunted. Fan implied he liked the guy’s movies. David understood the nuance Allen Croft brought to the big screen, he appreciated the way the director made the hard choices and brought a story to life.
“Yeah. You could say that.”
“Good.” She turned back to the coffee and poured two cups. “How do you like it?”
Up against the wall, clothing optional?
He cleared his throat. “Black.”
She giggled, and he wondered what was so funny. When she handed over the Go Navy mug, her eyes were bright with mirth.
“Care to share with the class?”
She shrugged. “I'm half black. Maybe there's hope for me yet.”
Her smile reached her eyes as she lifted the mug to her lips. She blew on the dark elixir. After an appreciative sniff, she moaned. “Best scent ever.” She grinned. “At least before noon.”
With that, she sashayed out the door. He was sure he'd never seen a dictionary definition come to life before, but he was equally positive that next to the word sashay was a picture of Sabrina Duncan. By the time he cleared his head and grabbed his keys, he found her behind the wheel of her car.
She really wasn't going to take no for an answer.
Fuck.
Coffee cup in one hand, he locked up with the other.
“Come on, handsome,” she called through the open driver’s side window. “You'll thank me later.”
That was debatable.
His life had been boring but quiet before she'd blasted back into it. Sure, he didn't have much passion to speak of but there wasn't emotional heartbreak on the
