Just as I’m right in front of her short walkway, I catch movement in my peripheral vision, followed by the sound of a screened door slamming. “Funny meeting you here again.”
I stop, unable to help myself, and turn to face the woman. Her hair is up in a bun that reminds me of a schoolteacher back in the day. Of course, Mrs. Hutchinson was a million years old, and this woman is anything but. I’d say she’s right around my own age, actually. Her eyes are bright, and her lips hold a smile as she steps to the edge of the porch and into the light.
Before I’m able to formulate a reply, she adds, “I suppose you’re the one I should thank for the gift?” She holds up a tumbler with what I assume is the tequila.
Placing my hands on my hips, I suck in a deep breath of oxygen. “I felt bad you spilled yours.”
She grins. It makes my cock twitch in my shorts. “Well, it wasn’t necessary, but since you bought a much better brand than my friend, I’ll accept your gift.” She lifts the glass to her lips and takes a sip.
Lucky fucking glass.
“I’ve had the cheap shit before and that’s no way to drink on a Tuesday night. Or Wednesday night, for that matter,” I tell her, taking a step forward, but maintaining my place off her property.
“I’m not much of a drinker any night of the week, actually. Last night was a rare instance. It would be my luck that I spilled what little I had left.”
“Well, then luck must be on your side that I happened to run by in your time of need,” I reply with a grin, flirting a little bit.
She snorts an unlady-like noise. “Time of need, huh?”
“Most definitely. I’m all about providing services to damsels in distress.” I go ahead and throw her my lady-killer grin, just to prove the point.
The woman barks out a laugh. “Oh, I’m most certain you are.” She clears her throat. “Beautiful night for a run,” she adds, glancing up at the early night sky.
“The best,” I confirm, but instead of following her gaze, I keep my eyes locked on her. She’s stunning. The blonde beauty is wearing a black tank top and little red shorts. And her feet? I almost groan when I realize they’re bare again. I have no clue what’s going on with me, but I have this crazy urge to do dirty things to those feet.
“How far do you run?” she asks, leaning against the porch for support, her glass placed on the railing.
“Five to seven miles, depending on the route,” I confirm. My eyes are drawn to her slender fingers as she slides one along the rim of the glass.
“That’s five to seven miles farther than I’d want to run,” she replies with a giggle.
Fuck.
It takes everything I have to suppress my groan. I can tell my dick is getting hard, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. If I’m not careful, she’s liable to see real quick-like how she affects me.
I shoot her a smile and slightly turn my body to help camouflage my growing erection. “It’s not something I particularly enjoyed until the military. Then, it was beat into my head every day, and now, it’s just part of my daily routine.”
“What branch?” she asks, seeming intrigued.
“Army. Twelve years and three tours,” I tell her, wishing she’d invite me to join her on the porch.
Her eyes light up with something. Respect, maybe? “Wow, thank you for your service.”
I just nod, never really knowing what to say when someone says that to me. Since it’s clear she’s not going to invite me to join her, I decide this is the perfect out for me. “Well, I should probably get back to my run and leave you to your drink.”
She watches me for a few long seconds before replying, “Thank you again for the bottle.”
“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything else. I usually run this route two to three times a week,” I tell her with a smile.
When she returns it, it feels like lightning striking through my veins. “Good to know, kind sir.” She gives me a little wave of those delicate fingers, and like the dog I am, all I can think about is how amazing they’d look wrapped around my cock. “Safe running.”
I toss her a wave in reply and take off down the street, feeling her eyes on me the entire way. Before I reach the end of the block, I can’t help but turn around, jogging in place. The beauty is standing right where I left her, watching me. Her head is leaning against the porch post, her glass poised almost to her lips. I swear I see a smile over the glass, but I can’t be certain from this distance. All I know is she is still there, those bright blue eyes observing my every move.
Throwing another wave, I turn back around and continue on my way, a wide grin on my face as I go.
Chapter Four
Quinn
I finish off my little amount of tequila, feeling pretty damn good. My body has the start of a nice buzz, even though it’s not something I normally welcome. I don’t usually enjoy the feel alcohol has on me. The impairment isn’t welcome. But with this smooth tequila, it’s not so bad. Of course, it could also do with the buzz the stranger gave me as well.
I almost missed him. I was literally walking out the door when he was running by. The moment I saw him, my breath caught in my throat and a shiver swept through my blood. He has a body made for running…and for something else too. Something that makes me tingle between my legs. I could feel his eyes on me the entire time he stood at the edge of the roadway, an appreciative glance that didn’t feel demeaning or dirty. It was like he was savoring me with his eyes, slowly and delicately.
The invitation was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to join me. Why? I have no clue. I don’t know this man from Adam, but do you know what? I wanted to. I wanted to ask him to my porch, to share the swing and a drink of tequila. Only then, I’m sure it wouldn’t have ended with a leisurely drink on my porch. The way his eyes devoured me, I’m sure it would have moved right into the bedroom, and I would have gone willingly.
But that’s not my MO. I don’t sleep with men I don’t know, despite how incredibly gorgeous they are in the moonlight. I have a strict five-date rule, and I’m not about to break said rule for a hottie with sparkling eyes and a cocky grin. Even if that hottie has stubble on his jaw that would no doubt cause the most delicious burn against my thighs.
He’s not my type, however. With his charismatic boyish charm and his devilish good looks, he’s the one to promise an epic, memorable night of sex but will leave before first light, trailing broken hearts as he swaggers away. He’s most definitely the kind you take home for the night, not home to Mama. This man screams Mr. Good Time for Now, while I’m looking for Mr. Forever.
Two very different men.
I slip back into my house and set my glass in the sink. I’m not exactly sure why I had the drink, let alone finished it. As I told Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devastatingly Handsome, I’m not a drinker. Last night was a rare instance, and when I found the bottle on my porch earlier, I felt like I owed it to him to try out the liquor. I mean, he did spend money on it, right? Why just slip it into the cabinet above the fridge, only to pull it out on special occasions?
Now, the little bit I had in the glass is gone and I can feel the warmth spreading through my veins. I’m certain that’s from the booze. Well, maybe seventy-five percent from the alcohol and twenty-five from the man. Fine, most likely fifty-fifty, but no more than that.