“Yeah, oh.”
Devney Perry,Tinsel
“Good morning. I sincerely apologize if I crossed a line last night. I understand you are my employee, and I am your employer, so please accept my sincerest apologies for my actions. It will not happen again.”
I scowled at my reflection.
“Don’t be such a weirdo, Polly! You can’t say that!” I hissed at the weirdo in the rearview mirror talking to herself.
I’d just dropped the kids off at summer school and made a pit stop at Daisy’s for donuts.
I’d woken up as Morning Polly who was now replaying Nighttime Polly’s actions over in her head. Morning Polly was rational—Morning Polly, was mature. Nighttime Polly was clearly smoking a joint in one hand and flipping her father off with the other while singing “Free Bird” at the top of her lungs.
Was I the one drunk on antihistamines last night? What other possible explanation could there be for me attacking Jace’s mouth with my own and then essentially telling him to come get me in the morning?
I palmed my forehead. He’s friends with the county sheriff! What if they’re waiting at the house to arrest me?
I leaned forward and blasted cold AC in my face. I had to calm down. The kiss was not illegal. More morally frowned upon, maybe—but at least it was mutual.
I relived the memory of Jace’s lips on mine. How his scent invaded my senses, sweet and something addictively Jace. Maybe I needed to pair that memory with something bad. Like the smell of dead fish. Perfect! When I caught myself thinking about Jace that way again, I’d think of a dead, rotting fish. That should cure me in no time. Feeling marginally better at my negative association plan, I pulled out on the road home.
Jace’s car was still in the driveway and, to my sincere relief, a police cruiser was nowhere in sight. Grabbing the donuts, which I’d thought would be a sweet peace offering but now felt like a pitiful bribe, I went inside, pausing just inside the door.
“Jace?” I called out down the hallway.
I didn’t hear anything. Walking toward the kitchen, I sighed. Maybe he was still sleeping. Maybe I could sneak upstairs and?—
“Ahh!” I crushed the bag of donuts to my chest. Jace was standing at his normal morning spot by the coffee maker, arms crossed. Haphazard red curls notwithstanding, he looked good. Soft gray T-shirt, worn jeans, and bare feet good.
His lips were pressed in a firm line.
You’ve kissed those lips. You know what they taste like.
“Jace! You startled me. How is your hair—I mean, lips—EYES! Your eyes, how are they?”
“Fine.” He uncrossed his arms, leaning back against the counter, face still unreadable.
FINE?Thatwas his reply?
“Marvelous! I got donuts!” I chirped, wincing at my tone. I strode to the island, avoiding eye contact with him. I set two plates on the counter and opened the bag to?—
“Polly.”
“Jesus!”
A low voicedirectly behind mehad me spinning to see that Jace had moved. He was now directly behind me, less than half a foot.
Jace pointed to himself, an amused smile on his face. “It’s Jace, actually.”
Was heenjoyingmy embarrassment?
He slowly advanced and I backed up a step, the hard granite countertop pressing into my back. He rested his hands on either side of me, boxing me in.
“Do you want to pick your own donut?” My tenor was unintentionally breathless.
He leaned in close, his sweet scent making me woozy with want. “As good as those donuts are, I’d rather have something else.”
His voice was honey dipped in whiskey dipped in sin.
