Page 66 of Flirty Fall Fling

“Wow,” she whispers. “Gorgeous.”

I stare at her. “Agreed.”

She licks her lips.

“Would you like something to drink?” I ask, moving into the kitchen, where there’s a case of her favorite wine sitting on the counter.

Her eyes widen. “This is a lot of bottles for someone who rated it a five.”

“It’s now my new favorite,” I tell her, pulling two wineglasses from the cabinet.

I pop open the cork, and Blaire snatches the bottle from the counter, taking a gulp straight from the top.

“We don’t need them. Come on. Give me the grand tour.”

So, I carry the bottle with us.

The house used to feel empty, but it feels different with her here. The theater room has twelve leather recliners and a popcorn machine no one has ever used.

She moves down the aisle, sinks into a chair, takes a drink of wine, and hands me the bottle. “This is very fancy.”

I watch her. “I suppose.”

“Have you used it?”

“Never. Don’t think anyone has.”

“That’s a crime.” She swipes the bottle from me, drinks again, and hands it back. “Before November, we’re watching a scary movie. Popcorn and everything. It’s spooky season, and I’d like to have the full experience.”

“Consider it done,” I say faster than I meant to. I like that she’s making plans for us.

We walk through the home gym next. There’s a wall with mirrors, and she raises her eyebrows at her reflection.

“Do you ever use this room?”

“Occasionally. You should come watch sometime.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Mr. Cross.”

We pass the dining room, then head upstairs. The hallway lights are on motion sensors and come on as we walk.

She opens every door and wanders into the hall bathroom and whistles at the soaking tub. “I’m already imagining myself in this.”

“I’m imagining you in there too.”

That earns me a laugh.

At the end of the hallway, there’s an office. Inside is a glass desk, a leather chair, and a full wall of built-in shelves.

She stops and stares. “Weird to have a library with no books. There’s enough space to fit thousands of books.” She pauses for a moment. “This is sad.”

I tilt my head. “What is?”

“That your brother has all this money to buy this big-ass house, and it feels empty.”

We pass the wine between us. Our fingers brush together, and heat rushes up my arm. I swallow hard, but she doesn’t seem to notice how she’s slowly undoing me. She walks the perimeter of the room. That black dress she’s wearing looks painted on.

Blaire turns and glances at me. “You’re staring, Mr. Cross.”