All the Days After

A picture of him in his uniform resided next to hers on the mantle. She could certainly understand the fuss. Maybe, just maybe, on lonely nights, she let her imagination wander and allow a fantasy or two about the sexy SEAL. Not that she’d ever tell Pippa, and she told her best friend everything. Hell, their periods were synced to the day.

Asher nudged her with his knee. “Jalapenos on macaroni? That sounds just plain weird.” Rather than pulling away after the friendly nudge, his knee stayed, their legs melting and fusing together.

Taking a slow sip of her wine, Sophie licked away a stray drip from her upper lip and looked up to find his eyes on her mouth. Maybe she ran her tongue over the crease of her lips deliberately, knowing he was watching, or maybe not. It couldn’t be helped. Turning slightly, the distance between them closing as a result of the motion, she flashed him a sly grin, “Jalapenos make everything better. Adds a little heat.”

His eyes managed to leave her lips and reach her eyes, but he was no less flirty, the corner of his mouth turned up mischievously. “What about on ice cream? Apple pie?”

“Amazing combination.” Briefly, she allowed her gaze to get lost in his warm, whiskey eyes. With a flip-flop in her chest, her heart took a moment to remember how to beat, as if it had been getting it wrong all these years.

A timely interruption from Pippa brought her back to the moment. “Sophie adds spice wherever possible. I’m actually not sure she willingly puts anything in her mouth that doesn’t set her on fire.”

Choking on his poorly timed sip of beer, Asher caught his breath and muttered a few expletives under his breath.

Might as well be honest. She usually didn’t get to be honest in relationships. That’s okay, I like pepperoni on my pizza… Your mother didn’t hurt my feelings at all… Of course I orgasmed, you’re a stallion.

Too late. The screeching halted, leaving a thick, deafening silence in its stead. The body connected to the legs shoved out from under the truck and rose to stand.

Oh. So that was Asher.

Floppy as over-boiled spaghetti noodles, Sophie’s legs completely betrayed her, and she worried as to whether they could continue to hold her up. A warm, fuzzy sensation coursed rapidly through her veins. All reasonable brain activity went caput like a fried hard drive, and she forgot her own name.

Before he noticed her, with her mouth gaping open from the next garage bay, he pulled his ratty cotton shirt over his head and used it as a makeshift grease-rag to wipe the black grime off his hands and face. Now that was just unfair. His abs defied reality; that was more than a six-pack. Was that even possible? Without her consent, a dreamy sigh escaped Sophie’s mouth.

Not with all the damn new parts he’d put in it; it was becoming quite the bionic rig these days. He wouldn’t be surprised if it stood up and declared it was an alien here to save Earth from the Decepticons. Wasn’t owning a Transformer every guy’s fantasy?