CHAPTER 6
SYNDAL
I’m not nervous at all as I wait for Joss to show up. This is our second date, technically, but he’s been calling it our first official date, with all the bells and whistles of being picked up. I don’t care what we call it. All I know is I’m excited about it.
Okay, fine, and a little nervous.
I find it calming that this isn’t our first-first date.
A few days ago, after the local market, he took me out to get some food.
It was casual and calm. I wasn’t dressed up and we were in the clothes we had been wearing all day.
I’m sure my hair looked like I was caught in a tornado at some point.
Or at least a large storm with high winds.
But it was clear that Joss didn’t care.
He looked at me with soft eyes the entire time we ate. He asked me questions about growing up, my day job, and my dreams for Synful Sweets. He never looked bored or like he was itching to get away from me. No, in fact it was the opposite. He was eager.
It was like he was lapping up every word and fact I shared about myself. It was heady as hell. I’ve never had another person pay such close attention to me before. I’m fairly sure I’ve been floating through life ever since.
Problems at work? It’s no big deal; we can get it figured out.
My chocolate isn’t setting right, and I have to start over because subpar product isn’t an option? No problem, it’ll be smoother the second time around.
I swear my thoughts are so damn sweet that I’m kind of sick of living in my own head. I’m not the kind of person to get swept away by extended eye contact and attention. Or maybe I just told myself that because it meant not missing those things. Or craving them.
This positive outlook on life started after my date which wasn’t really, apparently, a date. It was nice. It was easy. It was simple. It felt right.
And it scares the hell out of me.
Because I’m not used to things going smoothly. I’m used to having to claw and fight for every inch and proving myself the entire time. I’m used to working harder and longer to get half as far. It’s been the way of my life for so long now that I’m not sure what I would do if it were different.
I wouldn’t trust it, that’s for sure. Which is why I’m wary when it comes to Joss.
Another woman, one whose trust can be easily won or bought, would jump in with both feet, and never look back. I’ve learned that is the worst thing to do when trying to avoid being hurt.
I’ve had enough disappointment in my life. I’m not interested in learning the same lesson twice.
And then after our casual, informal, unofficial date, Joss followed me back to my house. When I tried to argue with him about it and insisted, “You don’t need to do that. I can get home all on my own.”
He reached out then and caressed my cheek with the back of his knuckles. The soft look on his face almost had me believing I was special.
“Please,” he murmured, “let me do this. If I don’t follow you and ensure you get home safely, I won’t be able to relax. I’ll be worried about it the rest of the night. Then I’ll agonize over whether I should call you or not. Let me do this,” he was so insistent and earnest.
There was no way I was ever going to be able to refuse him.
When I pulled into my driveway, Joss was there at my door before I even realized it. He opened it and offered me his hand. That electric storm struck again as I slipped my hand into his and he helped me out.
I offered him a small smile and squeaked, “Thank you for dinner. It was just what I needed after today.”
“Anytime, Sugar,” his voice was rough and it felt like he was holding back. “Do you need help getting things inside?” He nodded toward my car as he asked the question, but I was already shaking my head.
“No, I’ve got this,” I assured him.
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push either.
I was grateful for it because I needed some time and space to process everything.
Like how easily the conversation between us came.
Like how I didn’t feel as if I needed to be overly aware of my words and mannerisms. Like he wasn’t judging me or thinking I was too much or not enough. Like I could just be me.
His large hands came up and cupped my face. I wanted to squirm at the contact, while also shrinking away from him. I’ve always found my face to be exceptionally and overly round. Chubby cheeks is how some would describe me if they’re being kind. I didn’t want him touching me there.
But I couldn’t move out of his hold when I looked up into his brown eyes to find lust swirling with forever in his gaze. He whispered, “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” I breathed out.
And then his lips were pressed against mine. Something sparked to life in the middle of my chest at the contact and I gasped in surprise. Joss took full advantage of the opportunity and slipped his tongue between my lips.
The kiss was soft and measured with a hint of playfulness and the type of abandon I had only dreamed about previously. My entire being sunk into the kiss and got lost. I never wanted it to end, but then he pulled away slowly.
Even though I could see the conflict in his eyes, he kissed my forehead, bid me goodnight, and walked away. I wanted him to stay. But I didn’t stop him.
And now I’m waiting for him to pick me up for our first date-date. In my heart, though, I’ll always consider the other night as our first date. Even if all we have is two, it’s more than I had before I met Joss.
When he shows up, on time—I was just neurotic and got ready very early—I’m practically bouncing up and down on my toes and minutes away from crawling out of my skin.
The anticipation is too much. It’s a feeling I would usually dread and avoid, but this feels different.
It doesn’t feel as dangerous somehow. Maybe because it’s him?
Joss’s dark eyes sweep down my body and then back up. He looks at me with lust written all over his face. It’s not something I’m used to at all, but I can see myself becoming addicted to his reaction. It makes me feel powerful.
And gorgeous.
I’m not normally someone who feels gorgeous. I have a lot of amazing qualities, but I’ve never considered beauty to be one of them. With Joss looking at me the way he is, I may just have to reconsider.
“You look stunning,” Joss rumbles the words and there is a swirl and twirl in my gut. It’s a strange sensation, but I like it.
“Thank you,” I murmur while my eyes drift over him.
Fuck.
He looked damn fine in his security uniform. But out of it? In the jeans, henley, and coat he has on? He looks fucking sinful. He looks like a decadent chocolate truffle.
My mouth waters as I look at him and I can only hope mind reading isn’t one of his many skills.
I know he has many. While he didn’t share a lot of detail, he did tell me a little about his time in the military.
Finding out he served didn’t surprise me, he has a certain air about him.
What I did find surprising was how easily he opened up to me about transitioning out.
Now he’s standing before me looking like pure temptation. I lick my lips without even realizing it and Joss lets out a low growl from the back of his throat.
“If you keep looking at me like that, Sugar, we’re never going to make it to dinner,” there’s a warning in his voice.
“Okay. Let’s go,” I squeak out the words as my thighs clench, and I’m tempted to just keep looking at him like I desperately want to devour him.
Joss offers me his hand, and I don’t hesitate to take it. I’ve been thinking about this for days. That feeling hits me again, like electricity gone wild at a rave, but it’s not as shocking this time. I’m certainly not immune to it, but it’s not quite as jarring.
Joss’s eyes soften as he looks at me before he leads me away from my house after, of course, allowing me a moment to lock everything up. His eyes keenly watch me as I do, and my chest warms at the thought of him wanting to keep me safe.
“Do you like Southern cooking that is homemade and filled with comfort?”
“Yes,” I chirp, probably far too excited about where we’re going to eat. “I don’t think anyone can be upset or stay mad when eating a perfectly fluffy biscuit or a golden-brown piece of fried chicken.”
His eyes sparkle as he opens the door of his truck for me. “Then I chose the right restaurant for us,” he declares and his chest puffs up with pride.
I can’t help but grin up at him before I climb into the seat and he closes the door once I’m safely inside. Watching him as he rounds the front of his truck and slides behind the wheel is like foreplay. His movements are so deliberate and capable; it’s sexy as hell.
While we’re driving, we chat about our day. He was doing security at a warehouse today which means it was slow and cold. I feel for him and tell him all about the drudgery that was my day. Insurance isn’t flashy and, frankly, I don’t want it to be.
“Did you order any more cock molds?” There’s a teasing lilt in Joss’s voice along with genuine curiosity.
“Not today, but the day isn’t over yet. You never know when the mood might strike me to add to my cock collection.”
Joss laughs, the sound filling the cab of his truck and burrowing into my marrow.
This man does something to me I was prepared to never experience. He takes away the weight of the world. He shoulders it with me without making me feel like a burden.
When we get to the restaurant, I reach for the handle, but he barks out, “Don’t you dare.”
I freeze, almost expecting him to say he wasn’t talking to me. I look toward him, my movements slow and measured like that would be enough to keep my ass safe. He’s glaring at my hand which is hovering near the door handle. When I snatch my hand back and rest it in my lap, he unclenches.
“Sugar,” his voice is so deep that I bet he could coax me into making a lot of bad decisions with far too much ease.
It’s not really fair at all. “I want to open the door for you. It’s one of the ways that I can take care of you.
First, I want you to feel pampered and special, but it also allows me to take a moment and ensure you’re safe and there’s no immediate threat. ”
I blink up at him and can feel just how big and round my eyes are. What in the world is he even talking about?
“Joss,” I keep my voice soft and gentle, “that’s really sweet, but we’re in a safe area of the city. Nothing is going to happen to put me in danger.”
His eye harden, but it doesn’t frighten me because I’m not at all worried about him being upset with me. I have no idea why not, but there it is all the same.
“Syn, I know you don’t fully trust me or this,” he makes a motion in the space between us while he pauses, his voice dropping to a huskier note when he speaks again, “but I’m always going to need to keep you safe, whether the threats are real or not. Will you give me this?”
He’s pleading with his damn eyes and I crumble. I just shatter right there and give myself over to whatever this thing between us is. I’m aware it might not last forever, and I might get scared and try and talk myself of it later, but I think I have to take the risk here.
“Okay,” I whisper, my voice low in his truck, but loud in conviction. “I won’t open my door.”
With a grateful nod, he hops out of his truck and makes his way around to my side. When he helps me out, his hands are gentle but firm. It’s a heady combination and makes me wonder how it would feel to have him touching me all over.
My pussy gets even wetter and I squeeze my thighs together before he leads me toward the restaurant. They’re known for its southern style cooking, while elevating it from farmhouse tables to a dining experience. I’m not sure it needs elevating, but what do I know?
I’ve never been here before, but I’ve been curious.
The warmth that seeps into me from where his hand is pressed against the small of my back grounds me. “Come on, Sugar,” he wiggles his eyebrows as he opens the door for me, “let’s make our last first date count.”
I can’t help but giggle. His words are ridiculous, but a small overly needy part of me is desperate for this to be real.
The last thing I expected was Joss finding his way into my life, but I like it.
I like it a whole fucking lot. As I find myself smiling and laughing as the conversation flows between us easily and without awkwardness, I realize just how long it’s been since I’ve felt this kind of warmth.
Or laughed so much. Or couldn’t stop smiling.
When he takes me home, he walks me to my door. As much as I want to ask him inside, I’m scared. I don’t want him to be disappointed, and I don’t want to be hurt.
But then he closes the distance between us and presses his lips to mine. He doesn’t ask this time, he takes and I melt into him as he pries my lips open with his and plunges his tongue into my mouth. As he kisses me, I can’t help but wonder just how long this is all going to last.
I’m hoping for forever, but I’ll take what I can get.