Yes, who isshe?She drips with more sweetness then the freshly-baked rolls on the counter. God, how I’d like a taste. Of the foodandthe woman. It’d be rude to ask for either, but I’m sure as hell tempted.
“Meet my new PA,” Trent says, and the girl glances up. The second her golden green eyes meet my stare, her pale skin colors in a blush. Her auburn red locks are pulled back from her face, making her eyes stand out. Captivating. The freckles that dust across her nose and cheekbones, along with the simple flowery summer dress only add to her all-American look. Gorgeous. But it’s all natural.
“I wasn’t aware you needed a personal assistant.” My uncle stares at Trent.
“Well, I do.”
“The label would have provided one.”
Trent shrugs with all the nonchalance in the world. “Not necessary. I already hired Opal.”
For a second I’m worried my uncle might snap, that’s how tightly wound he appears. Silence compounds the tension in the room. Trent meets Bedo’s stare, but our lead singer’s lips tick up with the ghost of a smile. While Austin watches the stare down, my attention’s caught up with Trent’s new assistant. Does she have a boyfriend? Is she joining us for the tour?
“Let’s go downstairs.” Bedo’s voice is hard, but he’s the one to finally break. “Looks like we have lots to catch up on.”
Opal dishes out a plate of cinnamon rolls and hands them to Trent. “Oh, take these with y’all. They’re best warm.”
Y’all?Dear Lord, her country girl look is not an act. Fuck me, that’s hot. The urge to discover everything about her, where she’s from, how she ended up here, her family, her dreams—what turns her on—overcomes my thoughts and I suddenly want to know it yesterday.
“You coming, man?” Austin catches my stare and nods to where Trent and Bedo are already walking down a hallway.
“Yeah.” Shit. I don’t want to leave without speaking to this gorgeous woman. “Can you point me to the restroom?”
Austin purses his lips like maybe he doesn’t believe me, and then nods for me to follow. “It’s down here, third door on the left. Come back this way, and down that hall you’ll hit the stairs to the basement.” He catches my stare again. “Meet you down there?”
“Yeah, cool.” I’m trying for a less refined vocabulary.
Austin’s gaze darts back to the kitchen. “Don’t get lost.”
I can’t tell whether it’s meant to be a warning to stay clear of Opal, or he doesn’t want me wandering around his house, but either way the message is clear. Finish in the bathroom and get my ass downstairs. I find the restroom, step inside, and wait a good thirty seconds before exiting again. Relieved to find Austin’s not hanging around outside, I beeline for the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked goodness beckons as much as the beauty dancing inside.
Gorgeous. She shimmies those hips to the music streaming through the speakers, and sings along while she places a few ingredients back inside the cupboards. I’m tempted to stay here and stare. Hell, if time weren’t an issue I’d do just so. She’s beautiful and totally uninhibited. A sweet voice, too. Maybe she’s trying to make it in this biz.
She reaches for the flour and spins, letting loose ayipof surprise the second her eyes find me staring.Shit!The container falls from her hands but she catches it before it hits the floor. Unfortunately, not before half the contents dump onto the counter, floor, and mostly her.
“Goodness!” She sets what’s left on the counter, and her hands fly to her chest. She is covered—literally covered—in flour, and yet the sight stirs something inside me, along with my dick. If this were porn, she’d strip out of everything but that apron and we’d roll around the floor till we were both covered in flour and sweat.
“Lord!” Her wide eyes and exclamation pull me out of my naughty daydream.
“I’m so sorry.” Taking long strides, I close the space between us and reach for the rag in the sink to wet it. “Here, let me.” I reach forward.
“Oh, don’t mess your clothes.” She takes the rag from my hands before I can argue. “It’s my fault. I didn’t think anyone was up here.”
God, I feel like a dick. Not only did I scare her by staring like a voyeur, but I also make her feel worse by offering to help clean up. “My fault. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”
“Go ahead.” She nods toward the hall. Shit. I need to get down there before they wonder where I went.
“You sure? I feel horrible.”
“No. I’m the one who should feel bad.” She exhales a big sigh, her gaze taking in the layer of powdered dust that covers this entire area.
“Opal?”
“Yeah?”
“Hand me the dishcloth.” I hold out my palm and she finally hands it over. Our fingers brush, just for a short moment, and fuck, it’s as if my entire body comes alive.
“I’ll wipe down the cupboards.”
