Read His Good Girl Online

Authors: Dinah McLeod

His Good Girl (4 page)

BOOK: His Good Girl
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"Ready to go?" I asked, steering my tone towards cheerful.

Kevin scrutinized me, but if he had doubts about the sudden turnaround in my mood, he didn't say so. "Of course. And, Cara… you look beautiful."

My smile stretched, becoming a bit more genuine. "Thank you." As I moved toward him, he offered me his elbow and I slid my hand around it. "Am I underdressed?"

"No, not at all. I think your outfit is perfect for where we're going."

I gave him an appreciative glance, taking a moment to appreciate what he himself was wearing. Kevin had on a dark blue plaid shirt, left open to reveal a white t-shirt that couldn't hide the well-defined muscles beneath. Otherwise, he wore a pair of light blue jeans and brown cowboy boots. It was an outfit the boys I'd grown up with wore to this day, but on him it looked sexy—perhaps because I knew he was more than a stereotype.

To prove my point, when he walked me to my car door and opened it for me, I saw a stuffed teddy bear inside, holding a single long-stemmed red rose between its furry paws. "Aw! Kevin!" I squealed in excitement.

"It made me think of you," he said with a shrug.

I looked at it, then back at him again, and I couldn't help what came next. Instinctively, I leaned forward and our lips met. The kiss was short, but from the first moment of contact I felt my body begin to heat up. He might have been caught off-guard by the gesture, but he returned the kiss, and before I knew it, my blood was heading toward a rapid boil. When we broke apart, only seconds later, he had a goofy grin on his face, his coffee-brown eyes sparkling, and I felt like my insides had turned to mush.

When I picked up the teddy bear and took my seat, I felt a smug little smile slide over my lips. I felt so wonderfully delicious, from the top of my head all the way down to my pulsing crotch. Maybe, I thought lazily, Julie had been right. Gifts were typically a sign, right? As Kevin slid into the driver's side next to me, we exchanged flirty glances and shy smiles. He reached over and squeezed my hand before putting the key in the ignition, and I felt my pussy dampen with desire. God, maybe she was right. At this moment, I sure hoped she was.

We didn't talk much on the drive. We were acting like smitten teenagers—finding ways to initiate contact without making it seem overly obvious. I accidentally-on-purpose brushed my hand against his pant leg before snatching it back and putting it in my lap. He did the age-old yawn-stretch, and put his arm around my shoulders. With anyone else, it would have seemed ridiculous and juvenile, but as I was quickly learning, when I was with Kevin everything felt new and exciting again. Even this—maybe
especially
this. Every touch, no matter how casual, only stoked the fire that had begun to burn in my pussy. I was beginning to feel dizzy with it, and wondered whether it showed on my face.

When he pulled into a parking lot, we both took our time exiting the car. I'd just opened my door and stepped out when I saw him coming around from the driver's side.

"Tsk, tsk," he scolded gently, wagging a finger. For some reason, I found even this sexy.
God, I have it bad
. "You'll have to pay for that," he whispered huskily.

"Do you take Visa?" I asked saucily, tilting my head to look up at him.

His eyes darkened, his face as filled with wanting as I suspected my own to be. For a moment, he looked as though he was going to say something, and God help me, I wanted him to scold me further. I didn't know why, or what I even thought would happen if he did, but for some reason I couldn't explain, every time he looked at me with that firm, unrelenting gaze, I wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. In moments like this, I truly believed I could happily spend the rest of my life as a puddle, so long as I was his.

The air between us was charged with electricity and I desperately hoped he'd kiss me again, but then his expression changed and he stepped back. "Shall we?"

Just then, I looked up to see where he'd taken us. To my surprise, I found that we were standing in front of a small building with a sign that read, 'Melody's Karaoke'. I turned back to him, arching an eyebrow. "Karaoke? Really?

"What?" he said and laughed. "You thought I was just wearing the boots for fun?"

With a snort of unladylike laughter, I took the hand he offered. He squeezed my fingers, his touch light and possessive all at once, making me shiver with delight. Little did I suspect that he would actually expect me to
sing
.

It actually hadn't even crossed my mind. We sat down at a table for two in the back of the dimly lit bar and ordered a couple of drinks—
Coors
for him, and a fruity cocktail for me—and were making small talk as a number of people embarrassed themselves on stage. Most were embarrassingly off-key, but not one of them seemed to mind. Everyone was, in fact, hooting with laughter as they tried to sing along to the song they'd chosen. It was entertaining to watch, but had I known that Kevin would insist I give it a go myself, I would have walked out before our drink order had even arrived.

"I think it would be fun," he cajoled, squeezing my hand in encouragement.

"Easy for you to say," I muttered.

"If you really don't want to…"

He trailed off, but with those puppy dog brown eyes of his, he had me, and he probably knew it by the way I was squirming in my seat. "If I'm going to go up there—" I gestured to the stage where a busty redhead was belting out, 'Only Girl', "I'm going to need a
lot
more alcohol."

"And here was me thinking you weren't the drinking type. I thought that, as a nurse, you'd know better." He grinned at me as he signaled for our waitress. Once she was within earshot he said, "Another for the lady."

Kevin told me about himself as I sipped my cocktail. He told me about growing up in Michigan with a sister almost a decade younger, about his college days in the Delta Gamma fraternity—he claimed he'd been their equivalent of a water boy, but I didn't buy it—and about moving to Georgia. I stayed involved in the conversation, mostly listening, although I did offer a comment here and there. But even as we talked, I couldn't help but glance back at the stage every so often and swallow hard.

Why
had I ever agreed to go and sing? I didn't think of myself as much of a singer, not that that even mattered. Even if I had been, my stage fright was so terrible that I wanted to vomit just thinking about getting up there. Of course, I was sure Kevin would let me off the hook, certain that he would never say another word about it if I chickened out. But for some reason even I didn't really understand, I didn't want to let him down.

"Another?" he asked, noticing my second empty glass.

It was tempting to delay the inevitable, but with a small smile, I shook my head. "I guess I'll go face the music."

"Cara, listen, if—"

"No, don't try to talk me out of it!" I giggled uneasily. "I'm already nervous enough as it is!"

He leaned across the table and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze that helped loosen my shoulders just the slightest bit. "Listen to me; you don't have to go up there. But I think you're someone who could use a boost of self-confidence, and if facing your fear could do that, then it's worth it, right?" he said.

I tilted my head to the side as I pondered his words. It was funny—I'd always considered myself a shy person, not necessarily an insecure one, but Kevin seemed able to strip away all the parts of me I would keep secret, and look straight into the core. It was a frightening thing, being that vulnerable in front of someone, but comforting too; knowing that he liked me despite all of the rough edges he'd seen. "Yes, I guess you're right."

"We can always come back another night, if you'd rather."

I smiled at the way he'd said 'we', not 'you', and wondered when I, too, had begun to think of us as a 'we'. We'd known each other for such a short time, yet already my relationship with him felt deeper and more genuine than any I'd ever had before. "No, that's okay. I think I'm ready," I said.

"Are you sure? I wasn't trying to pressure you into anything."

His words made me think of the
other
thing I'd been worried about being pressured into tonight, and I couldn't help but smile. "No, I'm sure." I let go of his hand and rose to my feet, casting another anxious glance at the stage.

Kevin surprised me by standing too, but before I could question him he'd stepped toward me, cupped my face gently in his hands, and kissed me in a soft, tender way that left my heart pounding hard in my chest and my cheeks glowing. "Good luck," he murmured.

I found I was too tongue-tied to speak and offered a slow, contented smile instead. Though I wasn't certain it had been his intent, the kiss had relaxed me, and I walked toward the stage with a light heart. Only when I began to climb the stairs did I feel a bit of apprehension start to creep in, but all I had to do was glance back at Kevin, who was standing with his thumbs in his pockets as he watched me. When he caught me looking his way, he gave me a thumbs up that had me bouncing up the rest of the way.

The stage had been empty for at least three songs now, so as I walked on I could feel the gaze of the crowd begin to shift my way; some curious, perhaps, others indifferent. It didn't matter—the only eyes I could feel were Kevin's, and I knew that he would be beaming at me when I was done no matter what.

I'd never been the type of girl who had any interest in being in front of others. I'd almost chickened out of my own high school graduation for that same reason. By the time nursing school came around, I'd been too tired to care. But now, knowing that Kevin was watching and rooting for me, I found that I had a confidence I hadn't known I'd possessed before.

"What song, sweetheart?" the beefy, middle-aged man by the karaoke machine asked.

"Do you have 'Strawberry Wine'?" I asked automatically. Though I'd grown up singing it in the shower, it wasn't a particularly sentimental song for me—but it
was
the only one I was sure I knew all the words to. I was afraid I'd lose my nerve if I had to keep glancing at the karaoke machine screen.

"Sure, hon," he replied, chuckling softly to himself.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to pretend I was back at home with a blow-dryer in my hand rather than a microphone. I tried to imagine that I was all alone, with no one there save Kevin, and that he wouldn't care how awful I sounded. When the first soft strains of the music began to float through the air, I tensed, but when I opened my eyes and saw him still standing there, looking right at me, everything else really did melt away. I began to sing; off-key in the beginning, but I didn't care.

The song had always been a favorite of my mama's, about a girl experiencing her first romance. As I sang, looking at Kevin as my only audience, I felt a fluttering sensation that started in my stomach and traveled all the way down to my pulsing sex. Was it possible that I was in love? Was it possible that he felt the same way about me? It seemed too soon to make such declarations—though not, according to Julie, too soon to hop under the sheets and fuck like rabbits—but I knew in a way that touched me to the core that it was true.

When the song ended, I smiled at the polite applause and put the microphone back. I felt as though I was floating on a cloud as I walked back to my date, the earlier bout of nerves forgotten. It wasn't every day that you realized you were in love, and now that I had done just that, I was going to savor every moment with him.

"That was really, really good," he enthused, pulling me into his arms for a hug when I got closer.

"No, it wasn't," I protested with a laugh. "You're just tone-deaf."

"Hey, now," he scolded as he gave me a squeeze. "I know good singing when I hear it."

Deciding that I'd rather enjoy the warmth of his embrace than argue, I let the matter drop. He held on to me for a moment longer before letting me go. "Another drink?"

"Actually… I was thinking we could go back to my place." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, but I wouldn't have taken them back for anything.

Kevin arched a dark brow and raised a hand, running it through his brown hair. "Are you sure about that?"

I dropped my eyes, hearing the question in his voice and knowing that he understood me perfectly well. "Well, if you wanted to…"

"Do you want to?"

I flushed even hotter at his question, certain that every customer in the bar knew what we were talking about just by glancing at me. "Well, just, a friend of mine… she said that… that, you know, you'd expect…"

"Let's get out of here."

My heart leapt into my throat and began to pound with excitement, but when my eyes went to his face he wasn't smiling as I'd expected. In fact, he looked downright stern. Before I could assess his expression further, he took my hand and led me to the bar to pay our tab. Neither of us said a word as we walked out together and went to his car. He opened the door to let me in, and other than a soft, "Thank you," which he acknowledged with a nod, I kept quiet.

With each passing moment I became more and more uncertain. Had I said something wrong? I kept sneaking glances at him, but Kevin kept his eyes firmly on the road.

"Is that the kind of guy you think I am?" he asked at last.

BOOK: His Good Girl
4.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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