Page 16 of Weather the Storm
“Did he now?” Myla asks. “Great minds think alike!” She opens her mouth as if to say something else, but her phone trills in her hand. Her eyes flit to the screen, and her already beaming smile ratchets up a few notches. “That’s my man. See you in a few!”
I watch her practically float out of the salon, high on love, and can’t help the jealousy that claws at my soul. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled for her and Cash, and for Azalea and Drake—hell, I’m happy for every single soul out there who has found their mate—I just can’t help but wonder where I went wrong, can’t help but wonder why happiness constantly eludes me.
Before I’m able to sink too deep into my dark thoughts, the bells above the door chime and Simon calls out to me. “You about ready, Goldilocks?” I can’t help but blush at that silly nickname.
Scooping my purse up from my chair, I walk toward him. “I am.”
“See y’all in a few,” Seraphine calls from behind the front desk.
We both wave and fall into step with one another, Simon wrapping his arm around my shoulders. The contact, while innocent enough, sends a flurry of emotion through me. My pulse speeds up, and my belly feels like it’s full of angry butterflies.
When we reach his truck, Simon opens the passenger side door for me, but instead of taking my hand and offering support like he usually does, he plants a hand on each of my hips and backs me toward the open door. “Up you go,” he murmurs, his breath tickling my cheek. With a sure grasp, Simon lifts me into the seat. He watches me as I buckle mindlessly, and all I can think about is the feel of his hands on such an intimate part of me.
His touch is so,sodifferent from Grant’s. Where his burned painfully, Simon’s simmers, leaving me panting for more. I scold myself for even comparing the two as Simon walks around to his side of the vehicle. They’re nothing alike. Simon is pure and good and kind; Grant is a monster.
“You like Tex-Mex?” Simon asks as we head toward our destination.
“Love it,” I reply honestly.
“Good. Get ready for the best you’ll ever have.” I know he means the food, but I can’t help thinking he’s the best I’llneverhave, and that thought, coupled with Grant lingering in my mind, leaves me feeling morose.
The rest of our drive is spent in silence. I’m lost so deeply in my mind that it takes Simon three tries to get my attention when we arrive. “You okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.
“Sure, uh, yeah. Fine.”
I go to unfasten my seat belt, but Simons stops me. “Are you sure? We can head home if you want.” He says it like it’sourhome, and not just his house.
Mentally, I shake myself out of the mood I’m in and give him my best smile. “Nothing some cheese dip can’t cure.” Judging from the look on his face, he’s not buying what I’m selling, but mercifully, he lets it go.
“Hang tight and I’ll come help you down.” I start to protest but clamp my lips shut when I realize him helping me down means his hands will be on me once again. God, I’m so pathetic that the mere thought of Simon touching me in the most innocent of ways has me blushing and turned on.What is freaking wrong with me?
Plus, if he knew just how broken I truly am, he’d steer well clear of me.
Simon pulls my door open, and I pivot in my seat so my legs are dangling out of the door. Once again, his hands make contact with my hips, and I have to fight the full-body shiver that begs to roll through me.
This time though, instead of just lowering me to the ground, Simon stands close and lets my body slide down his, all my soft passing over his hard. He keeps me caged there between him and the truck for a moment, but instead of fear—which is what I’d usually feel in a situation like this—I feel nothing but molten desire. I yearn for more…more of this, more of him.
Before stepping back, Simon trails the tip of his nose from my temple to my jaw, inhaling me, robbing me of all my air. Sweet Jesus, that right there was more erotic than any other experience I’ve ever had, though I’m not sure if that speaks more to my lack of experience or just how off-the-charts sexy Simon is.
Together, we walk side by side to the entrance of Azteca’s, our fingers brushing every so often until Simon finally grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers. I’m not sure what’s going on, but it certainly feels like something’s changing between us—too bad I don’t know whether to run from it or toward it.
Inside, we bypass the hostess station entirely and make a beeline for a large, round, wooden table in the back. As we weave through the other tables, I’m amazed by the beautiful décor, with its striking terra-cotta tile floors and walls in shades of red and purple and orange. It sounds garish, but altogether it has the feel of a sunset in Mexico.
I expect Simon to release my hand as we approach our friends, but he doesn’t, and Lord, do they take notice. Both Drake and Cash raise their brows at him, and Myla Rose, Azalea, and Seraphine all unsuccessfully try to hide their smiles.
“Well, hello, lovebirds,” Azalea calls out good-naturedly as she bounces Brody on her knee.
“Mind your own business, brat,” Simon scolds her, but she just smiles. I’ve never seen, much less had friends like these, but I’m so thankful they adopted me into their group.
“Magnoliaismy business,” Seraphine pipes up.
“How ya figure?” Simon asks.
“Uh, family first, dude,” she retorts before pinning me with her dark gaze. “We’ll talk later, Mags.”
Shaking my head at her, I try to convey that we have nothing to talk about, but she just keeps nodding slowly.
Breaking the tension, Simon speaks up. “Y’all ordered?”
