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“Why are you mad atme?” I asked incredulously when she still glared up with accusing eyes.
“Because you’re too fine for your own good. Is this what it’s going to be like to date Bennett Broussard? I have to beat women off with a stick?”
Oh, God, I was so in love with this woman. Every grumpy, scathing word that came out of her mouth made me want to throw her on the Green Room sofa and tickle and hug her then fuck her into the cushions.
I cupped her other cheek and hauled her against my body, rocking us back and forth. “We could take out an ad in the Beauville newspaper.”
“Oh, please. No one reads that. Not even the online version.”
“There’s a billboard at the main bridge crossing of the bayou. We could blast it across there.”
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“I think you’re funny.” I kissed her cheek then her jaw. “I think you’re beautiful when you’re angry.” I kissed her neck.
She angled her head to the side to give me better access.
“I think I’d rather take you back to my place and tear your clothes off rather than go through a three-hour dress rehearsal with Peter at the helm tonight.”
“That reminds me. We’re not going back to your place after rehearsal tonight.”
I pulled back, my mood dropping instantly. “What do you mean? You’re not spending the night with me?”
She grinned. “Now who’s all grouchy and defensive?”
The thought of being without her for even one night sent me into a little bit of a panic. That should be a warning that I needed to get control of my feelings. But that was the thing. I was in tight control of basically everything in my lifeexceptmy feelings for the fiery redhead in my arms.
She made me crazy with need, with lust, with heart-aching longing. Simply spending a ten-hour day at work, which I’d done without any trouble at all before, was now agonizing torture akin to being stretched on the rack. Because I constantly checked my watch, counting down the minutes till I could be with her again. Till I could get my Betty fix. Till I could look at her pretty face, the delicate arch of her brows, the sassy angle of her sweet mouth, the tilt of her head when she laughed.
Until I could touch her, hold her, fuck her till we were both panting and spent, tangled in my sheets. Or hers.
I wasn’t particular. As long as we ended up together in either her bed or mine by the end of the night. But now she was saying we weren’t spending the night together?Hell yes, I was grouchy.
She reached up with her two index fingers and pressed them into the creases on either side of my mouth, trying to make me smile. “Turn that frown upside down, Broussard. I have a surprise for you.”
“I hate surprises.”
“I kind of figured that,” she laughed. “But we’re still doing it.”
“Doing what? Where are we going?”
Her teasing expression turned sweet and tender. She cupped my face. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“But why aren’t we spending the night together?”
“I said we weren’t going back toyourplace. You’ll still be sleeping in my bed tonight. But you have to let me take you on our little surprise adventure.”
“We’re going to be exhausted after this rehearsal.”
“Actually, I think it’ll loosen you up for what I have planned.” She blinked sweetly at me. “Please.I just want to do something fun, to forget about the stress of grading papers or inventory or memorizing lines.” She glanced down at my chest then added quietly, “Or your dad. And everything.”
A tender look softened her features and shimmered in her sapphire eyes. She was worried about me. But theand everythingmade me think of her reaction to my confession in the school parking lot. This seemed like a sort of apology.
“Fine.” Then I let go of her waist but took her hand and dragged her toward the mic station. “Now, let me stick my hand up your shirt and help you with your mic wire.”
“My pleasure, Broussard.”
“No, it’s mine.” I smiled. “Trust me. It’s all mine.”
