She smooths a hand over her stomach. “Oh.”
She’s wearing a dress.
I’ve never seen her in a dress.
It’s a flowy, floaty fabric that caresses her body—a white background and yellow buttercups decorating the material. It’s demure, innocent, and unassuming. There’s not one thing sexy about her attire. Not one.
But I want to lift the hem, pin her against the wall, and take her.
I raise a brow. “Are you expecting someone?”
She scrapes her teeth over her bottom lip, a habit I’ve noticed she has when she’s nervous.
She clears her throat. “A group is coming in from New Orleans. They’re considering us for one of their restaurants.”
“Sounds promising.” I meet her eyes.
She shifts nervously before waving a hand over the bottles. “I’m getting ready.”
“I can see that.”
Silence stretches between us, but I don’t fill it in.
That blush still stains her cheeks.
I want to kiss her again. I want to make her mouth swollen and red, so she doesn’t look so proper.
She tilts her head and a lock of hair falls behind her shoulder. Her hair is partially pulled back, worked into soft waves. She looks very southern today, like she should be sipping a mint julep and lunching with the garden club. It’s a look she wears well, but it doesn’t quite fit the wantonness she displayed the night before.
I wonder which one is more real. Maybe they both are.
She takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. “Can I help you?”
At her prim, businesslike tone, I cock a grin. “Did you sleep well?”
Her spine straightens, and her gaze darts around the room. “Is how your boss sleeps of any consequence to you?”
Ah, calling attention to her position over me, wanting to distance herself.
I shrug. “I was merely being polite.”
Her shoulders square as she becomes more and more a proper southern lady by the second. “I slept fine, thank you.”
I take a few steps closer to the bar that separates us.
Her gaze widens, like a startled deer.
“I was just checking, since you didn’t answer my text.”
She smooths her dress again. “It didn’t require an answer.”
“True.” Another step and I’m at the edge of the counter. I lean over and place my hands on the glossy wood.
She points to me. “I just polished that.”
“It shows.” I let a smirk slide over my lips. “I hope all your…”
Her expression turns downright horrified.