He slaps his knees and stands, shaking his head in annoyance. She shakes her head the same way, stomping after him, and I suppress a grin at their similar manner.
Following them into the showroom, I watch Daisy’s cute little ass sway in those cutoffs. She left that enormous cardigan in the truck, and she’s got a sweet little body, curves in all the right places, narrow waist, round ass, small but perky little tits.
Last night, I pretty much swore her off when my brother suggested it. Then I got to thinking, she’s not going to be here for long either. What’s wrong with having a little fun? Judging by our dance and the way the pink flooded her cheeks every time I teased her, she might be into it, too.
“This is a Victorian Era wingback from the turn of the twentieth century.” Her dad is scolding. “Don’t sit in it when you’re wet or sweaty—”
“I know, Dad, I found it.” Daisy curls up in the bright yellow chair, sliding her cheek along the scalloped cushions.
She’s surrounded by plush velvet and carved wood, and if she wasn’t in cutoffs, I could imagine her stretching out and pointing a bare toe. Kind of like an old-school New Orleans sex kitten. Her dark eyes meet mine, and my stomach tightens.
“Do you think you can lift it?” She’s on her feet, bouncing over to me. “It’s heavier than I thought with all this wood. But I can help.”
“Is that a challenge?” I cut her a grin, wondering what it would be like to have her sit on my lap in this chair. Slide my hands under that tee and cup her breasts.
I’d better cut that line of thinking before I get a boner in front of her dad.
“Good,” the man gripes. “Then you’ll be on your way. I’m closing up early today.”
Daisy’s brow furrows, and she walks over to him, touching his arm lightly. “What’s wrong, Dad? Are you feeling bad?”
His chin pulls back, and he scowls. “Of course not. I’m healthy as a horse. I have business to attend to. That’s all.”
“Oh.” Her voice is quiet, and she seems sad.
An unexpected surge of protectiveness stings in my chest. I can’t imagine she sees her dad very often, and it seems like now she was hoping for more. I wish I knew what to say, but instead, I stand silent as a pack mule.
“I guess we should get going then.” She gives me the signal, and I bend down to lift the chair by an arm and the back. Feels like it weighs eighty pounds.
“Who is this?” It’s like her dad sees me for the first time.
“Scout Dunne. He’s from Fireside. Scout, this is my dad, Doug Sales.”
“How do you do, Mr. Sales?” I lower the chair again and extend my hand to shake.
He shakes it, running dark, suspicious eyes over me, head to toe. “Are you dating my daughter?”
“Ah… No, sir.”
Daisy jumps in. “Scout is a friend of mine. He came to help me load and unload the chair.”
“You listen to me, son.” He leans closer, his eyes laser-focused on mine. “I was young once. I know young men. They like to have… adventures.”
Okay…
“Have your adventure with someone else’s daughter. You got that?”
“DAD!” Daisy’s shriek is so loud, I think she might shatter one of these old mirrors. “That’s it. Thanks for not selling my favorite chair. Bye.”
She hops over and kisses his cheek, then heads for the door. I scoop up the chair with a grunt and follow her. So much for anybody giving me a hand.
We’re back on the road with me behind the wheel this time, and Daisy’s looking out the window before she speaks again.
“My mom was always so frustrated with him, and I never understood why.” Her voice is a little thoughtful and a lot annoyed. “Now I think I get it.”
“I liked him.” Her face snaps in my direction, and I wink before turning to the road again. “He’s focused on his work. It’s kind of cool. Who knew there were so many antiques?”
“It’s all he does.” She exhales heavily, placing her feet on the dash. It gives me a great view of her legs.
Daisy is not tall, but she has really nice legs, shapely and muscular.
I feel her gaze moving from my shoulder up my cheek and around my face. “Tell me, Scout Dunne, what are you afraid of?”
I like how she says my name all bossy like that. It’s cute. Staring down the highway, I think about her question. “Not insects. Or reptiles or animals.”
“I didn’t ask you what you weren’t afraid of.” Sassy pants.
I want to give her cute little ass a pinch. I want to slide my fingertip down the wrinkles in her nose. “Being wrong.”
“Like failing a test?”
“No. Like… Making the wrong choice, wasting a lot of time, and missing the point.”
“The point of what?”
“You know, life. The whole point I’m here.” My throat is tight. Like I said, I’ve never even told J.R. this stuff.
“Well, shit.” She looks out the window. “Isn’t everybody afraid of that?”
“I don’t know.” I think about people I went to school with, people I graduated with, my brother. They never seem to think about it. “I guess I’m taking a crazy leap of faith moving to LA. Sometimes I feel like it could be a big mistake.”
“I disagree! It’s not crazy to take a leap of faith. It’s something you have to do.” Her expression is so earnest. I remember now why I trusted her with this so long ago.
“It feels crazy.”
“But if you never do it, you’ll never know what might have happened. You have to try.”
Now I remember why I kissed her that night after the dance.
The night she says I broke the rules.
“Looks like I’m going to.”
The yellow chair fits perfectly with the style of her aunt’s old house. It would work in any room, but she makes me carry the damn thing from the living room to the conservatory. Who says conservatory anymore?
Her hands clasp in front of her lips like she’s holding her breath, and her eyes meet mine. “I’d really like to have it in my bedroom.”
“Where is that?” I’m afraid I already know.
“Upstairs?” She moves her hands over her eyes, and when she peeps through her fingers, I shake my head.
“Lead the way.”
Her bedroom is navy blue with bright gold accents. The wallpaper matches the bedspread which matches the pillows, almost like they were all drawn together on one sheet of paper. A dark wood table is by the window, and a big white vase holding pale pink flowers like snowballs is on top.
It’s where she wants the chair, and when I put it down, it’s like it was made to go here.
“Did you do all this?” I motion around the room.
“I did.” She grins like she’s waiting for my verdict.
“It’s really nice. I mean, really nice.”
“Really?” She bounces, clapping her hands.
“I can’t believe something this nice is in Fireside.”
With a little squeal, she throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you!”
It’s so unexpected. Her body pressed against mine tightly, her cheek against my jaw. My hands span her waist, sliding lower. Soft lips touch my cheek, and I catch her chin, stopping her movement and covering her mouth with mine.