Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALENA
This isn’t a date.
I mean, if my new colleague were a woman who lived next door, I’d invite her for dinner. If it were a sweet, dumpy man? Sure, I’d do the same.
So the fact that I have an extra steak and invited my beefy neighbor for dinner does not make this a date.
Until Loch knocks on my door, and I open it.
Hit by his smile.
Mauled by his muscles.
Destroyed by his subtle cologne.
I lift my nose—tobacco, vanilla, and notes of hot man. God, I’m in trouble. Friends don’t make friends wet between the legs.
“Hey.” I keep it low-key. “Do you like sweet potatoes?”
And I do it by asking him about root vegetables?
Smooth, Alena.
“Love ’em.” From behind his back, he presents a six-pack. “Hope you love beer too. Sorry. Didn’t have time to buy wine.”
Wine. That’s what you bring on dates, right? So is this one? And he’s here for it?
“Thanks. Actually, I prefer beer.” I take the cardboard carrier, our hands brushing. “Second to Slurpees, of course.”
Turning toward my kitchen, my tummy cartwheels as he follows me inside, laughing when he sees Mutt. “Guess he’s made himself at home.”
Mutt lifts his chin from his paws, greeting his master with a ruff, before he goes back to dozing on my porch.
I pop open two bottles, setting them on the bistro table. “He liked it out there as long as I didn’t close the door. Then he started barking.”
Standing on the edge of my little kitchen, Loch’s size steals all the oxygen, especially when he shoves his hands into his pockets. Don’t look at his bulge, Alena. It’s got its own zip code.
“Yeah,” he grins. “He doesn’t like being left out. Makes privacy almost impossible.”
Privacy? Why would Loch need privacy?
For sex, I assume and jealousy whips through me when I have no right.
“Not that I need it,” he adds, like he just read my mind. “It’s been just me and Mutt for years.”
Okay, that was none of my business, but he wanted me to know it. Why? Does this mean he’s making small talk or dropping big hints?
I blink, not knowing which instinct to listen to. The bold one between my thighs, or the insecure one between my ears.
I’ve never done this.
I don’t know what to do.
But the way he stands there, smiling at me? Suddenly, I don’t need to know. Hell, I don’t need air. Something else makes me feel so alive; my scalp is tingling.
“Can I help with anything?” he asks as I regain composure, turning to grab our loaded dinner plates.
I haven’t had sex in five years. Can you help me with that?
“I’ve got it. Thanks though.” I set our plates down, trying to hide my shaking hands. I made sure his T-bone and sweet potato were bigger. “Salad’s on the table. Didn’t know what dressing you’d like, so—”
“I’ll like whatever you have.” He walks my way.
What is he doing? He is not… Oh, he is.
Loch melts my heart, pulling out my chair. “Thank you,” I stammer softly, my knees wobbling as I sit.
Only my dad’s done that for me. Insisting it’s how a man should treat a woman, and I gotta say, “Dad, Loch is scoring points.”
He settles in across from me, dwarfing my dining chair. “Thanks again for dinner.” He lifts his beer bottle for mine.
“You’re welcome.” We clink their amber necks, and I take a sip. Make that three gulps before resting a napkin in my lap, hoping it’ll smother the flames between my legs. But someone, cover my mouth because it fires, “Next steak is on you.” My eyes widen. “I mean, uh—”
Why can’t I just burp? That’d be less embarrassing.
Loch grins. “This is a date, Alena, and yes, the next steak is on me.”
Taking a sip, his eyes sparkle. He doesn’t mean to send butterflies dancing through my belly, but he does.
I force myself to breathe through the rush. “So, uh… how long have you had Mutt?”
“Since he was a puppy. Five years ago, someone left him outside a convenience store.”
I beam. “So he loves Slurpees too?”
“Yeah, guess you could say Mutt loves what I love.” The way Loch cuts his steak and his sexy eyes at me...
“Like?”
“Like romcoms and caramel popcorn, long walks, and chasing tail.”
I gulp.
The way he laughs... “His tail. Not women. I promise, I don’t chase them.” The way he smiles... “But I do like hiking with them.” The way he asks me dozens of questions... “Where’s your bucket-list hike?”
“Kilimanjaro.”
The way he makes my face hurt from smiling so much... He makes the hour go by too fast. He makes me feel like Drew Barrymore on a date.
My first date.
I’ll never forget it.
Loch’s not like most men. He doesn’t boast about himself, even when I ask. He changes the subject and asks about me. Like he’s curious. He cares. He passes the real test of a man, according to Vale. Loch asks follow-up questions, as if I’m actually interesting to him.
It makes our conversation warm and comfortable, like we’ve been friends for years.
So, why does it also feel erotic? Why am I seduced by his questions? I’m getting high from his focus on me. Light-headed. Happy. Free.
Maybe he’s just polite, and I was pushy, inviting him over. Maybe he’s dying to leave when I want him to stay. Maybe he’s respecting our roles when I want to break the rules. Clearly, I’m a secret horndog. It’s a Saturday night. If he only knew about my midnight dates.
He takes his last sip of beer before asking, “What made you want to be a ranger?”
I guzzle down my last sip, afraid he’ll run again, but he asked, so I reveal. “My mom used to take me camping in Congaree Park, and I’d see the rangers there and thought it’d be the best job in the world.”
His smile softens. “What was your mom’s name?”
“Lainey. What’s your mom’s name?”
“Ahem.” He coughs. “Uh… Nadia?”
“You sure?” I chuckle. “You answered like it was a question.”
“It’s not that. I’m just used to calling her Mom.”
I caress my empty beer bottle. “Why did you want to be a ranger?”
“Guess I wanted to make my mom proud. She likes any job where you rescue people.”
“And your dad?”
His smile falls. “He was an abusive piece of shit. My mom escaped him when I was a baby.”
I flinch. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry or—”
“I don’t mind.” But he makes a fist. “I mean, I’m damn lucky I don’t remember the hell she and my brothers went through.”
His brows knit, and it hurts my heart. Loch asked about my mom, my wound, and I want to care for his in return. Barely, I touch his hand. “I’ll listen if you want to talk about it.”
His pause is long; he’s searching my eyes before a soft smile tugs his lips. “Nah, let’s change the subject back to something we like, like…” He nods toward the mountains outside. “Do you want to stay here? As a ranger?”
“Yeah, I love my job.” I wipe my mouth, setting my napkin on the table, anything to hide this earthquake I feel in his presence. “I mean, I want a life, too. You know, I want kids with a husband and—”
Jeez, Alena. Buy a ring and get on one knee for him.
What happened to no way? To no flirting or falling in love? Colleagues are off-limits. Men can just be friends.
It’s all I’ve known.
There’s only one other time when I crossed a line with a man. When I needed something more for a night. One first and then never again.
Since then, I’ve been too focused on work, on living my dream. And maybe… honestly… I’ve been too shy. Too insecure. Too torn between feeling beautiful one day in a cute dress, then too vulnerable if a man ever takes it off if he sees the real me. It’s been easier hiding in my career.
But with Loch, there’s no hiding. There’s a new drug in my veins, making me bold. Brave. Beautiful. Even demanding. But I’m sounding a little desperate. I keep flubbing my lines.
My god, I’m practically proposing to him.
“I mean, uh, it’s not like I’m husband shopping or rushing. I like being alone and—”
“I know what you mean.” He leans back, relaxed, his eyes glowing, but oddly, he keeps balling his fists. “I want the same. A job I like. But more? I want a wife I love and kids I adore.”
I bet his wife will be gorgeous. Like a perfect blonde doll with no stretch marks.
God, I’m losing my mind around this man.
But Loch won’t stop looking at me that way.
Like I’m a comedy show and amusing the hell out of him. Or he’s braced over me in bed, making me want to open my legs for him.
I can’t breathe through his intensity. Can’t think with his focus on me. His innuendos make me fall in love and feel like a fool at the same time.
I can’t decipher Sexy As Fuck. I don’t speak the language. I just get flustered when I’m sitting across from it, and a man who looks like Loch is speaking it to me… fluently.
It doesn’t help that my empty bed is right behind him—like a neon sign flashing HOT SEX HERE.
“Cheesecake?” I pop up, grabbing our plates.
“Sure. Let me help.” He grabs them back.
It’s five steps into my tight galley kitchen, where I open the refrigerator and take out the slice I bought at the grocery store.
While he brushes behind me, setting the dishes in the sink, I reach for a plate in the cabinet and the air between us gets heavier. The room hotter. The world smaller. And steamier. Is it just me?
“I, uh, only bought one slice at the bakery, but we can split it.” I keep my back to him, plating the dessert while trying to hide my panting breath.
Or is that his? Matching mine?
My heart races. My hands shake. My mind is confused while my body is pretty sure—I think he wants me.
But how would I know? Men give off an aroused pheromone. Right? Is that what this is? It’s making me feel silly, snared, and seduced.
Maybe I’m just confused.
I’ve never had a man want me, and he’s being really quiet. So I turn around… gasping, I find Loch a breath away, his massive form eclipsing the lamp light.
“I really shouldn’t do this, Alena.” His warm body presses mine against the countertop. Softly, he caresses his thumb over my bottom lip, making my nipples tighten, goose bumps blooming everywhere. “Not with you. Not with my colleague. Not without asking. I’ll get in trouble, but…”
He.
Does.