Rome groaned again. “God damn, Elise. I’m not getting you drunk again until after we have sex, because you are one frisky girl when you get a bit of alcohol in you.”
She giggled and sucked on his earlobe. “I like touching you,” she murmured.
“Christ, I like touching you, too, and I wish to hell you weren’t drunk,” he told her, dragging her away. “Now,” he said, handing back her phone. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”
She bit her lip and nodded, giving him a wide-eyed stare. “Tomorrow.”
“That’s right.” He stared at her for a long moment, and then grabbed her by the face and gave her a long, hot, tongue-filled kiss that made her knees all weak again. Then he released her just as fast. “Fuck, I’m going to regret not screwing you in the morning.”
“Me too,” she said with a sigh.
“Call me,” he demanded, pointing at the phone.
“I will,” she said, smiling drunkenly.
• • •
Oh god, she was never going to live this down.
Elise pulled the blankets over her head, wishing her memories would go away.
Call him? Not in this lifetime.
Seriously, how drunk was she last night? Elise rolled over in bed, blanching at the weird taste in her mouth and squinting at the daylight seeping through the blankets. She’d only had two shots and a mixed drink, right? Well, okay, she vaguely remembered stealing a couple of sips from Rome’s drink when he wasn’t drinking it fast enough. That had been enough for a hangover, apparently.
And enough for her to lose all control of her ever-loving mind. She recalled tonguing his ear, and running her fingers under his shirt . . . and asking him to pose nude for her.
She also recalled him fending her off, which was pretty damn humiliating. And licking a dart. A dart! Who knew where that thing had been? Dear lord.
Definitely too much alcohol, too fast.
She pulled the blankets off of her head and fumbled for her phone to check the time. There was a text message on her screen.
Hope you’re not too hung over this morning. Had no idea you were such a lightweight.
She groaned again and rolled back into her bed, texting a response. You’re still talking to me?
Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?
Because I made a fool out of myself last night?
Nah, you were cute. You’re a v. cuddly drunk.
She didn’t even know what to say. Was he flirting via text or was he just informing her that she was a gropey drunk? She thought for a minute and then sent, Yeah, sorry about that.
It’s ok. So when did you want to go get your car?
Oh god. She didn’t want to see him right now. Not when she was still feeling weird about everything. That’s okay. I’ll walk there and get it.
I don’t mind. I’m off today.
No, really, it’s okay.
There was a long pause, and she thought maybe he wasn’t going to answer her. Then, finally, he replied. You blowing me off, Elise?
Oh no. Were his feelings hurt? For some reason, the thought of that bothered her. I just feel weird about things. I acted like an idiot last night.
Actually, I thought it was cute. I thought you were cute, though you probably regret telling me about your panties.
Yes, yes, I do. She put a hand to her cheek, hating the flush there. It was more than just the mention of the panties, though. He thought she was cute? She couldn’t stop smiling. You . . . sure you still want to hang out with me?
You bet. I won’t even make you drink Jäger this time.
A wild giggle erupted in her throat. So I guess you didn’t like me THAT grabby, she texted back.
Oh, I did. This time, I just don’t want to feel like an ass if I get grabby back. So what are you doing later?
Her heart pounded, just a bit. I don’t know, she sent back. Did you have something in mind?
Was thinking about picking up wings and a movie and staying in my cabin. You wanna come with?
You’re just inviting me because you secretly want pizza and can’t balance a pizza on the back of that bike.
Tell you what. I’ll get the beer and the movie and the cabin. You get a pizza. :)
She laughed. I knew it!
My secret is out. :)
There’s a flaw in this plan.
What’s that?
My car’s still over at the salon. You’d have to come get me, take me there, and then I’d have to go get a pizza.
And this is a problem . . . ?
Well, if I’m doing all the work, I have to consider this proposition very carefully. What kind of movie?
Ummm. Something with lots of explosions and car chases. Or are you into stuff with subtitles and weeping?
Let’s go with explosions.
You’re a girl after my own heart.
She was still blushing. You’re forgetting something else.
What’s that?
If I park my car in the ranch parking lot, my brother will see it and start looking for me.
This is indeed a dilemma. Let me think this one over.
Don’t hurt yourself.
Why, Elise, that was rather sassy of you. I approve. I should send you more text messages.
She was feeling rather sassy, darn it. Dirty ones?
Depends on if you’re good or not.
Quantify “good” for me.
Damn, did you just text me “quantify”? That’s kinda hot. You a nerd?
Nope. Don’t get your hopes up too much.
Damn. Well, how about we skip the food and I just come pick you up instead?
I can bring sandwiches if you like?
Now you’re talking. So what time should I come get you?
After dark. If my brother sees me . . .
Gotcha, gotcha. After dark. Meanwhile, I’ll be spending my day in the main cabin, suggesting that Grant take Brenna out for a nice dinner, just the two of them.
Sneak.
Pretty much. I’ll call you when I head over & we’ll get your car later. Wear something comfortable. Be you. Not those crazy shoes you wore last night . . . even though those were pretty damn hot.
Sneakers it is. When he didn’t text her back, she grabbed her pillow and squealed into it like a teenage girl. Rome wanted to see her again and he was picking her up for a date tonight. Oh my god. The man of her dreams was interested in her. This couldn’t be real, could it? She scrolled back through the flirty series of text messages they’d exchanged. It seemed legit. Please, please don’t let him be messing with me, she prayed.
If this was all an elaborate hoax of some kind, she didn’t think she could take it. She liked Rome far too much, and the devastation would be too sharp.
• • •
Elise fixed two brown bag lunches, stuffed with enormous sandwiches and bags of chips. She stole a few of the fresh-baked cookies Emily had on the counter while she was in the kitchen, too, and packed them all into one large grocery sack.