He laughed, and what a great laugh he had, he was the man I should be attracted to. Not that I didn’t feel attraction towards this man, you would have to be dead or gay to not want to jump his bones. But it wasn’t the same kind of desperate intensity I felt with Cade. It was official, I was totally fucked up, more attracted to the criminal than the man who locked them up.
“Don’t worry I won’t deport you, not in my nature to let gorgeous woman go by choice,” he joked back, eyes twinkling.
Is he flirting with me?
“I’m Luke by the way, the deputy sheriff round here.” He held out his hand and I wiped mine on my shorts before shaking it.
“Gwen,” I replied. “I’m opening a store here, right on Main Street?”
“Oh yeah, think I’ve seen that, next to the coffee shop right?” he asked, arms folded casually, feet wide apart, in what must be the masculine male go to pose.
“Yep that’s me, we have our grand opening on Wednesday night, you are most welcome to come.” I invited him partly because I needed the numbers, and because…well, it was obvious he was hot and I needed to get back into the game.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, looking me up and down again, making me feel slightly self-conscious in my lack of proper attire.
“Well great, see you then,” I said brightly, starting to prepare myself to leave. “I better get going, I’ve got lots to do, was lovely to meet you Deputy. Feel free to bring friends on Wednesday.” I thought of Amy, and knew she would kill me if I didn’t get someone for her to drool over, or more likely jump into bed with.
“The pleasure was all mine Gwen,” he responded, sounding far too seductive for his own good. “And please, call me Luke.”
“Okay Luke, seeya,” I chirped, putting my headphones back in my ears, running in what I hoped was the right direction, feeling his eyes on me the whole time. Good thing my butt looks great in these shorts.
Just as I rounded a corner, almost recovered from my meeting with Luke. I heard over my blaring music, the sound of motorbikes.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I exclaimed out loud.
An older woman getting her paper off the lawn in her dressing gown frowned disapprovingly at me. I smiled tightly at her, my attention focused on the six or so bikes that had rounded the corner and were riding towards me. It was six-thirty in the morning, shouldn’t bikers be sleeping off hangovers or kicking skanks out of their beds? I willed myself to look straight ahead and not look for Cade. Don’t look, don’t look.
I peeked out the corner of my eye as they rode past. Damn it! I have no self-discipline. A helmetless (what is it with American’s not wearing motorbike helmets, that shit is whack) Cade shamelessly checked me out while controlling a Harley. I had to admit that’s kind of impressive. I blushed, feeling the eyes of five other bikers on me as they rode past. I quickened my pace, trying to get into the safety of my house before I bumped into Ryan Gosling (at this point I wouldn’t be surprised).
I flattened myself against the door as soon as I got inside, puffing from my run and my encounters. That’s it. I’m buying a treadmill, or maybe a whole gym. No, I just won’t ever leave the house again.
“Morning!” Amy’s voice belted out. “I made you breakfast.”
“Thanks!” I make my way into the kitchen.
Amy was at the breakfast bar, munching on granola, fruit and yogurt, a bowl for me sat beside her.
“How was your run?” she asked, between mouthfuls.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I grumbled, plonking myself down beside her.
She stopped eating, her spoon halfway to her mouth. “Spill.”
And I did just that, yet again replaying the barely believable events of the morning. I finished with the description of Cade on his bike, and Amy stared at me wide eyed.
“It’s seven in the morning and that has already happened?” She shook her head. “I’m going to stick to you like white on rice for the rest of the day baby girl, get myself some run ins with sexy males.” She was half serious.
I laughed, digging into my breakfast. “I don’t even want to think what’s in store for us at this barbeque. I guess it would too much to hope that it is a meeting of kick ass feminists, or wait, lesbians?” I asked Amy seriously.
“Now what would be the fun in that?” Amy replied sagely.
I slid my brownie into the oven and turned back to see Amy, shamefully licking the bowl.
“Hey!” I snapped. “Leave some for me!” I advanced on her.
Amy picked a knife up off the counter and hissed. “You try and eat any of this and I will cut you.”
I giggled. “You don’t scare me Abrams.”
Amy pondered for a moment then lowered the knife. “Okay, but we have half each.”
I whipped my finger through the remnants of the mixture and brought it to my mouth and groaned. I stepped away.
“That’s all I need so it’s all yours,” I said while untying my pink polka dotted ruffled apron. “I need to get ready for this barbeque.”
“Well make sure you dress hot,” Amy commanded to my back as I climbed the stairs. “With your luck the cast of ‘Magic Mike’ will probably be there.”
I stood in front of my mirror admiring my white sleeveless sundress and decided I looked pretty good. It clinched in at the waist and flowed down to just above my knee, showing a fair amount of leg. The whole back was sheer down to my waist, forcing me to go braless, not that it mattered with my tiny knockers. My hair was tousled into slight waves tumbling past my shoulders. I decided on light makeup with pale pink lipstick. I finished off my look with a couple of silver bangles and my usual sky high heels, pale pink wedges with crisscross straps snaking up my ankle.