The Next Day (Foothills Book 2) by Carrie Thorne (mind reading books .txt) 📗

it’s good to make stupid mistakes. Reset the bar a little.” She’d made more than her fair share of mistakes; not learning from them would be downright moronic.

“Maybe.”

“No offense Zane, but you’re less of a mess than you think.”

She scooped a heap of scrambled eggs into a bowl and slid it toward him, dishing up another for herself.

Inhaling, he closed his eyes before digging in. “We’ll see. I’ve got a hell of a lot of memories from a great military career, both good and horrible. Sometimes I think I should have stayed until retirement like I’d originally planned, but I was so fucking done. And now? Now I’m a thirty-four-year old unemployed, divorced, socially-awkward nobody crashing at his only friend’s parents’ apartment while I come up with something to do with the rest of my life.”

“So, you don’t have a dream right now. That’s okay. You could use a break, some time to find yourself again. You’ll figure out what you want.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re living your dream.”

“I am. And now I’m home again, another dream that doesn’t jive well with my career. As glad as I am to be home, I’ve got so much work ahead of me, to keep this going. It wouldn’t be hard to lose everything I’ve accomplished.”

“But you know what you want.”

“Mostly.” She held her bowl in one hand, her fork in the other, and leaned against the opposite counter. Stuffing her mouth full with a huge bite, she shrugged, unsure what to say. That she felt lost and found all at once? Being home was amazing, but selling her work was going to be so much harder.

“Do you still need a date to the wedding?” He didn’t look up, but ate another bite. Why was he so hard to read? Did he want to go? Or was he just feeling guilty?

“I think I’ll go alone. Let them know I don’t give a shit what they think.”

He swallowed another bite and chased it with a gulp of coffee. “Whatever you think. But it’s not like I’ve got anything else going on right now.”

“Are you sure? I mean, it won’t be fun. It will be a gigantic party filled with family I haven’t seen in years.”

“Lake Tahoe you said? I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s beautiful. We can go as friends, maybe make out a little, nothing major, then we can go hiking, swimming, whatever.”

She grinned and rinsed her bowl out before adding it to the empty dishwasher. “Make out?”

“I’m not saying it’s why I’m offering to go with you, but let’s face it, it’s going to happen.”

“The hotel is all booked up. Think we can bunk together and not go beyond making out?”

“I’ll do my best, but no promises.” He glanced down between his legs and shrugged, “This poor guy hasn’t seen much action in the last… way too fucking long.”

Shaking her head, she couldn’t help the corners of her mouth that turned up, the humming between her own legs as she debated if this was the dumbest decision she’d made in her entire life. And she’d done some stupid things. But, as she’d said, sometimes you have to make a few mistakes to reset the bar. “Alright. I’ll call the airline and see if there are any seats left. If we do end up having sex, remember, what happens in Tahoe stays in Tahoe.”

Shaking his head, full grin spread across his cheeks, he cleared his dish, came around behind her and pressed against her backside, one hand splayed across her abdomen while the other reached around her to put his bowl in the sink. “Then we’d better make the most of it,” his gruff voice whispered.

Pinning her against the counter, her back still toward him, he brushed his lips along her bare shoulder. Trailing delicate kisses on her skin, the tip of his tongue tracing the contour of her neck, he tormented her. Her legs trembled beneath her until she wanted to start their weekend early. The heat of his mouth on her, the subtle seduction proving exactly why she couldn’t keep him. Already, he was so much more than Vince and Giovanni and Randy all combined; if he asked, she’d strip down right here and give herself body and soul.

Turning in his arms, her gaze brushed over his perfect lips, swept over his chiseled jaw, and locked onto those storybook eyes. No wonder she was a goner. Her pathetic brain turned her right into some princess in a remote tower, pining away for the prince that would inevitably let her down. “One weekend. That’s it.”

No hesitation, he meant it when he agreed. “One weekend.”

7

Room Service, Please

Shifting in his seat, Zane stretched his legs out front and wished she’d let him upgrade their seats to first class. Her cousin, her family, she’d said, so she insisted on paying.

His fucking knees. Now that the seatbelt sign was on, he moved his foot to the aisle in a bleak effort to get comfortable.

As he closed his eyes, Freya chuckled at his side, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You look like a salmon in a sardine can,” she laughed again.

Turning his head, he opened his eyes and let the corner of his mouth quirk up. “Can I please upgrade us to first class on the way back?”

She nodded, still grinning at him, those devilish blues taunting him.

Closing the narrow distance between them, he brushed his lips over hers long enough to absorb the zing he’d come to crave, then settled back and shut his eyes again to relive her taste, the exquisite spice of those lips.

“My parents are only three rows back,” she hissed.

The plane jerked forward and back, then rolled away from the gate, the miniscule vent above his head blasting a weak stream