Page 23 of Temptress
His brow furrowed. “What for?”
My lips curved into a sincere smile. “For what you did to those guys at the club earlier today.”
“Ready!” Darcy chirped.
She hooked her elbow through mine and the two of us started toward my house. My skin prickled with awareness, and sure enough, when I looked over my shoulder, Silas was still standing there, his eyes on my ass.
12
SLOANE
Ilifted my fist to knock, but before my knuckles could meet the wood, the door was thrown open, revealing Silas dressed for work in a pair of black slacks and a black button-down shirt.
What the hell was it about a man covered in tattoos yet dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that made him so freaking...hot?
Or maybe it was just the Silas effect; it was getting harder and harder to tell.
That near-constant furrow in his brow—the one that made him look perpetually grumpy—deepened as he took in my arms piled high with all kinds of board games, a couple puzzles, and my tote I’d filled with the millions of bottles of nail polish I kept under my bathroom sink. “Jesus, Sass. Think you might have gone overboard a bit? It’s a school night, after all. It’s not like you guys will have time to do all that shit.”
I rolled my eyes and shoved past him, stepping into a house that I’d been just as familiar with as my own, thanks to how often I visited Lucille.
“Stop whining and get the bag I left on the porch, would you? I couldn’t carry everything.”
“For Christ’s sake,” he grumbled as he hefted up the bag that contained everything needed to make peanut butter and oatmeal raisin cookies. “Is all this really necessary?”
I placed my haul on the coffee table, turned to look back at the man, and propped my hands on my hips. “You keep complaining and Darcy and I won’t let you have any of the cookies we bake tonight.”
I knew I had him there, not only by the way those dark, heavy brows rose higher on his forehead, but because when he’d come over yesterday to get Darcy for dinner, he’d snatched himself a handful. According to Darcy, her father would eat anything sweet, but his favorite cookie was oatmeal raisin, hence the ingredients in my bag to make two batches of both.
He held his hands up in surrender, that smirk tilting up one corner of his mouth. I had to force myself to look away from it before I started to squirm. I took in the space, noticing the distinct changes from what it looked like when Lucille lived here.
The furniture was much more contemporary than Lucille’s velvets, brocades, and tassels. It was nice and cozy looking, the furniture of a family. A massive TV sat on a pretty credenza, the screen black at the moment, but the walls captured my attention. Specifically, the streaky primer-white walls that weren’t quite doing the job of keeping that deep garnet red from peeking through.
“Um, wow. It looks...” Unsure how exactly to finish that sentence, I curled my lips between my teeth and bit down to hide my smile.
Silas heaved out a sigh, reaching around to rub the back of his neck. “I know. In my defense, I haven’t exactly had a lot of time to paint. And the previous owner had... interesting taste.”
I snorted. “Lucille is a force. You should see what she’s done with her new place.
“You know her?”
“Oh yeah. We’re great friends. I still visit her once a week at the assisted living facility she moved to. She has more get-up-and-go than a woman her age should be allowed, but as the years passed this house became too much for her. It was easier for her to move.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing. “You couldn’t have talked her into painting everything neutral before putting this place on the market?”
I let out a laugh. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I personally think that fuchsia in the office is totally your color.”
He smirked again and my core pulsed. Thankfully, his daughter came racing down the stairs, jolting me back to reality.
“Sloane!” she cried out, like she hadn’t just seen me the evening before. Man, this girl was good for my ego, that was for damn sure.
I opened my arms and braced my feet as she crashed into me, returning her quick squeeze with one of my own. When she pulled back, her smile had nearly overtaken her face and her eyes were dancing. “Did you bring the stuff?” she asked in a conspiratorial whisper that was still loud enough for her father to hear.
I shot her a wink. “You know I did. But first”—I held up my tote of nail polish in every color you could possibly imagine—“mani/pedis!”
Darcy squeaked and hopped in place. This was going to be one of the best evenings I’d had in a really long time. All thanks to a special fourteen-year-old girl.
“On that note, I need to head out,” Silas stated. He moved to his girl, hooking her behind the neck and pulling her in so he could press a kiss to her forehead, and something about that move made my insides melt. “Love you, baby girl.”