Dear God. This gorgeous—at least a little bit famous—rock star is telling me that sex isn’t his priority.
Where have guys like this been all my life?
“Do you drink bourbon?” I ask as we pull up to my house. “And right here is fine.”
“I do.” He parks in the driveway since I don’t have a garage.
“Care for a night cap? When I’m as physically exhausted as I am tonight, sometimes I need a drink to relax my brain enough to match.”
“I totally get that. I get wound up after shows too.” He hands me my keys as we walk up the five steps to the front door. I unlock it and walk in with him right behind me.
“Mrr-owww!” Waylon comes around the corner with a loud protest.
“Good morning, sweet boy,” I say. “Come say hello to Tate.”
Tate squats down and simply holds out his hand. “Hey, Waylon.”
Waylon hesitates. He doesn’t like strangers and I’m sure the only reason he met me at the door this morning was because he was alone for more than sixteen hours.
Waylon stretches out his neck and smells Tate’s fingers. Then, out of nowhere, he moves forward and rubs his head against his hand.
“There’s a good boy.” Tate scratches his head, behind his ears, and down his back. “That feel good?”
Waylon purrs and I’m momentarily dumbfounded.
“He doesn’t like many people,” I say. “But it looks like you get a seal of approval.”
“Animals like me,” he says. “My mom used to call me the pet whisperer. If anyone we knew was having trouble with their pet, they’d call me to figure out what was wrong.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t become a veterinarian,” I say, kicking off my shoes and dropping my purse on the hallway table before making my way to the kitchen.
“It was a possibility,” he acknowledges, following me with Waylon on his heels. “But once the music bug bites, it’s impossible to ignore.”
“Well, with your kind of talent, I’m not surprised.” I pull a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and grab two tumbler glasses. “Ice or straight?”
“Straight.”
I pour two fingers and hand him the glass. Then I pour two more for myself and drop an ice cube in it.
“Thank you.”
I take a sip and sigh happily. “I definitely need a shower after working a double.”
He cocks his head, eyes trained on my face. “Is that an invitation?”
I smile.
Like I could say no.
“Absolutely. I’ve been waiting all night for that kiss you’ve been promising me.”
“Well, you don’t have to wait anymore.” He puts down his glass and walks over to me. He’s not in a rush, though, reaching out to pull my hair out of the messy ponytail it’s been in.
“My hair is—” I start to protest but he puts a gentle finger over my lips.
“Your hair is beautiful.” He threads his fingers through it. “Soft and silky, just like I knew it would be.”
I don’t know why this feels so good but my eyes close all on their own, allowing me to revel in his touch.
