Caspian (Carolina Reapers 8)

“Obviously,” he repeated, but he had more than a smug look on his face.

I sighed and reached for the door handle. “Thank you,” I said as I pushed it open. I’d barely made it up my steps before I whirled around, tilting my head at Caspian who followed me to my door. “What?” I asked, looking at him to see if I’d forgotten something in his car.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, all teasing gone from his face. “You’re not a girl who needs breaks or space,” he said, and I raised my brows at him. He shrugged. “You need to know that. Understand that. You’re fun, a pain in the ass sometimes, but you’re fun. You’re smart and have a mouth on you most men would kill for, and I’m talking about what comes out of it, but your lips are nice too.”

My body was on fire from his words, my eyes wide. I parted my lips, but I couldn’t find my voice.

“Just…” He stepped off my porch, heading back to his car, his gaze crinkled like he didn’t know where all that had just come from. “Wanted you to know that.” He climbed back into his car, flashing me a smile. “I’ll pick you up for the picnic.”

And then he drove off.

Leaving me standing on the porch, lost in my own head, wondering when anyone had ever said anything like that to me before.

Never.

The answer was never.

Not once had Chuck said I was fun or that he liked my no-filter mouth. In fact, he often tried to get me to rein it in, especially if we were ever out at town functions.

I blew out a breath as I turned into my house, hating that Caspian Foster kept stealing it from me.

And if he kept it up?

It was going to be a very long two weeks.

5

Cassian

Where the hell was she? She’d passed on my offer to drive her to the picnic and told me she’d meet me here instead, but she was nowhere to be seen, and the game was starting soon.

“You ready for this?” Brogan asked as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, oil making his skin reflect the afternoon sun.

I quit looking for Ryleigh and concentrated on what Brogan was saying, only to be blinded again by his slicked-up shoulders.

“What the hell is that?” I gestured to his bare chest. “You look like you just walked out of the volleyball scene in Top Gun.” Adjusting my sunglasses, I handed him one of the blue belts for flag football.

“Makes it harder for them to get a grip on me.” He lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk and nodded back toward the red team, which was mostly made up of locals for the bride. “I don’t like to lose.”

With the attending Reapers belting up on the blue team for the groom, the odds almost seemed unfair until I noted the red team had Hendrix Malone as their quarterback. Guy was an NFL wide receiver. We were stuck with Nathan Noble as our quarterback, and he wasn’t his NFL-playing twin, but he had the most experience throwing the ball.

London’s wedding was the biggest non-community event Cherry Creek had seen in the past decade, and she was doing her best to include as much of our hometown as possible, which meant we had commandeered Memorial Park for a giant picnic this afternoon. Had to give it to my sister, she’d chosen another local caterer to supply the food. Between events, hotel stays, and feeding out-of-town guests, she was single-handedly boosting the economy of our tiny town.

“Relax, Demon,” Sterling said as he wrapped his own belt around his waist and fastened the Velcro. “It’s a friendly football game. Those aren’t professional athletes over there.” He cocked his head to the side. “Well, except Malone.”

“Says someone who doesn’t care if we lose because his fiancée is on the other team.” Brogan hefted a thick eyebrow.

“Says the guy who is just trying to make it through this exceptionally long week of events so I can finally put my last name on London,” Sterling answered, looking wistfully across the field, where London had slung her arm around Savannah’s shoulders on one side, and Ryleigh’s on the other—

Holy fucking shit. My jaw went slack. Her legs went on under those cutoff jeans for miles, and she’d tied her tank top just beneath her breasts, leaving the entire length of her toned, tan, tight stomach bare to the sun and my gaze.

She gave me a grin and a wink over her eye black strip, and I had the sudden, mouth-watering urge to run my tongue from the button of her shorts and over her ribs to—

Stop. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. That redhead with the ponytail and smart mouth wasn’t for me. There was absolutely nothing I could offer her besides a quick—or not so quick—roll in the proverbial hay. I didn’t even fucking live here. Nope, my job was to pique the interest of her ex, and that was it.