9. I’m the Fog

CHAPTER 9

I'M THE FOG

STORM

Edith's exasperated sigh as she leaves the table is hard to miss. I feel the same, as suddenly my hopes for enjoying a nice pizza dinner for three have quickly dissipated. "Hold on, dear. Let me pack up some brownies and slices of pie for you to take to your father."

She leaves us alone. Misty gets up and sashays to the door. She yanks a red scarf off the hook, fashioning it around her shoulders with a flare like a shawl. As she reaches for her purse though, half the scarf falls to the floor.

I rush over and retrieve the end of it. "Here."

I bring the red silk around to the front of her and in the transfer brush my fingertips along her shoulder. I can't tell which is softer, the fabric or her skin. The sizzle from the touch shocks through me right to my groin, and it titillates me eyeing the goosebumps spread across her chest.

Her breath catches and she glances up at me. This close, she's not only beautiful, but stunning. And everything I want. I have to have her.

"Thanks."

"You're a petite little thing. Like a little Sweet Pea." I dare reach out and finger the hair framing her face.

"I. Wedding. Go." She speaks in one-word sentences like she's fighting through brain fog. That's me. I'm the fog rolling into her life, and from this point on, she'd better get use to the storm coming her way, because I won't stop until she's mine.

"Right. Have fun doing the chicken dance tonight," I say.

"Chicken dance?"

"Yeah. You don't know it? I thought all weddings do the chicken dance, or maybe that's just in Oklahoma back home."

"That's where you're from?"

"Yep. Guess if you would have stayed a little longer you could have gotten to know more about me than just the way my ass looks." I wink and her cheeks pink hard, and fucking finally, her lips melt into a grin. A beautiful full one with teeth showing between pretty rose lips.

Fuck me. "Whoever he is tonight—I hope he knows how lucky he is to get to dance with you," I whisper, desperate to lean in and kiss her forehead.

"Who?"

"Whoever your plus one is at the wedding."

"Oh. Yes. Right." She sounds like she's forgotten her date all ready. Fine by me.

Edith returns with a plastic bin filled with the goodies. Her eyes switch between the two of us. "We should do this again, yeah? Only next time, Sebastian, I'll cook for us. You must try my lasagna. It's out of this world."

"That's a deal. I'm game. You know where I live. Extend an invitation any time."

"The pizza was excellent, by the way. Thanks." Misty admits. Then she resorts back to that skepticism about me, and I can feel it like a weighted blanket in the squint of her eyes. "Are you sure you two will be okay after I leave?"

"We'll be fine. Now run along and do your job." Edith puts the bin into her hands, then takes her by the elbow and opens the door. I think it's odd to call attending a wedding a job, but whatever.

"Edith and I always enjoy our little chats. In fact, what do you say we break out the cards and play some gin rummy?" I ask.

She claps her hands. "Oh, you're a sweetheart. My Rupert and I would play cards together all the time. I'll go break out my favorite deck. See you soon, dear."

Misty gets a kiss from her on the cheek and she leaves us once again. Standing in the doorway, we exchange glances and chuckle. It's almost like she doesn't want to leave me now. How can I prolong this?

"Hey, Edith? I'm going to walk Misty to the elevator," I call out.

"Okay, honey," comes her reply.

Down the hall, as much as Misty rushed to get out of there, she now walks at a slow pace. Fine by me.

"You seem to be really sweet with Nana. I appreciate that," she says.

"So I've redeemed myself? Because I'm pretty sure the other day I didn't make a great impression." I stuff my hands into my pockets and stroll along side of her.

"A certain part of you made a huge impression," she mutters under her breath, but I can hear her loud and clear. All right, little Misty. I think I've got you dialed in and I think I'm growing on you. I'd love to grow more. About seven inches more. "I worry about her living here alone now. We used to live together in a bigger apartment but then I moved away. Now that I'm back, she only has a one-bedroom place here. So you can understand why I was a little skeptical of you at first."

"Absolutely. Its only right you're concerned for her welfare. But I assure you, I'm a nice guy, Sweet Pea."

"Yeah, right." Why does that sound sarcasm from her lips? Are nice guys a red flag to her or something? Her demeanor suddenly changes, turning business-like. "Listen I try to get over here often to visit but, you know, I work and I get busy. Can I give you my phone number to call me in case something ever happens to her?"

We're at the elevators and she pushes the down arrow, not even looking at me again.

"Sure." I pull out my phone and we trade numbers. That's one way to get her digits. The elevator arrives and she steps in.

"I should go. Thanks again."

"Yep. Enjoy the wedding cake." I'm counting this ending as a loss somehow, and already plotting how to approach her the next time, when she puts her arm out and stops the doors from shutting.

"Wait."

I arch my brow and chuckle to myself. She really doesn't want to leave me yet, she just doesn't want to admit it.

"About that chicken dance. Do you think you could show me? I haven't been to many weddings and I'd hate to be embarrassed at this wedding tonight if the song plays. The couple—er, my friends—are from the midwest so you know, they'll probably play it. I should try and blend in—er, look like I know what I'm doing next to my friends."

"Yeah. It's easy. Um…" I look around trying to figure out where to show her this dance.

"Ride with me down the elevator and show me?"

"Oh. Okay."

I step in and within the confines of this space, without competing with the sweetness of Edith's baking, I finally pick up Misty's scent. Equally delicious notes of vanilla and spice and everything fucking nice. Too bad she has a wedding date tonight, because I could devour her in one bite.

"So?" Her hands make a motion, saying let's get a move on.

"The thing to know about the chicken dance is its more than a series of movements. It's a whole vibe that begins with the music. Here." I search through an app on my phone to find the song then play it for her to listen.

"Like a polka?" Her nose scrunches and lips curl.

"I guess. It's fun to do though, so don't knock it until you try it." I'm about the launch into the routine when the doors open. For some reason, it's like a purple hat convention in the lobby, with women standing wall to wall in red garments with the odd, floppy hats. Must be some big goings on tonight for the ladies in the building. "Um…"

"Walk me to my car. You can show me there," Misty orders. I follow her as we snake through the crowd. Many of the grannies grin and greet me, although my ears pick up on others' chatter.

"You know Edith, from the tenth floor? That's her granddaughter he's with."

"If Edith thinks she's won this bet, she has another thing coming."

"I wonder if I could bribe him with my award winning lemon chiffon cake?"

So much unwanted attention they pay to me. At first it was cute, now it stifles me. The crisp fall air hits my face when we finally step outside. I take a refreshing gulp of it.

"Wow. It's like the entire building houses the Sebastian fan club." Misty laughs as we stop walking at an older, blue sedan. I adore the way she says my name. I'd prefer to hear her scream it when I make her come though. Because I know for a fact I will. Soon. She opens her back door and places the plastic bin of sweet treats on the seat. I take every second of her bent over to ogle her, squeezing my hands into my sides to prevent reaching for her and grinding my rod into her.

"No kidding. I'm thinking about petitioning the owners to please have a few more young men move in. That'll take the heat off of me."

"I doubt the owner will care. As long as he gets the monthly rent. My dad owns it."

"No shit?" My brows hit my hairline. I scratch at the whiskers on my jawline. "Do you think you could maybe not tell him about you seeing me in the nude? I do like it here, and I'd hate to get evicted over a little misunderstanding."

"Only if you tell me why you were like that—" Her phone chirps, ending her inquisition. She peeks at the message and sighs.

"Your date is impatient." I observe.

"Yeah. I really have to go. What are the dance moves?"

I'm a little downhearted as I turn on the music and start to move. "Only four things. Bring your fingers together like you're moving a puppet talking like this. Then put your thumbs under your pits and flap your elbows like you have wings. Then shimmy down and back up. And finish with four claps."

"Oh. That actually looks easy."

"Try it with me then." I keep going and she joins in. Right here in the middle of the parking lot, under the stars, we're dancing together. Not as close as I'd prefer.

"You got it. Now at this part, we link elbows and swing each around and around like this." With that, she starts laughing, so carefree like she's letting herself unwind and let go for the first time in ages. The view of her face as I swing her gets me right in the feels. I don't want her doing this with anyone else. Fuck me.

"How does it end?" She calls.

I pick her straight up under her armpits and lift her. I kiss her forehead then set her back down. But it's not enough. I lean in and capture her lips with mine. I want more. I swipe my tongue along her seam, tasting her gloss on plump, soft lips.

She stumbles back against her car, blinking at me. Oh. Fuck. Too much. Too soon. Like I took a huge step forward with her and now I'm back to square one.

"Uh, sorry." I scrub at my neck. "I got carried away and threw the kiss in. That's not part of the dance. And please don't do that with your date, Sweet Pea."

She visibly swallows, then licks her lips, her eyes heating up, sparkling like emeralds under the stars. How long has it been since a man loved on her real good? If I had to guess, a long fucking time, and that thought does nothing to stop the rush of blood to my cock.

She straightens and her hands skim down the front of her dress, smoothing herself back into place. I follow their movement, wishing to take their place. Wishing she were bare before me. I mean tit for tat. She saw me, it's only fair I see her.

"Um. I should go. Thanks for showing me this."

"No problem. Here." I open her car door for her. She sits inside and adjusts and buckles her seat belt. I'd do it for her but I think I've surprised her enough tonight. "Be safe."

I close her door and bite my tongue from saying more like, text me later when you get home so I know you made it safely there.

Or text me if your date is an ass and I'll come rescue you.

We're not there yet. But I don't have a single doubt we soon will be. There's no chickening out on this. I'm claiming her. Now all I need to do is try not to think of her in the arms of another man tonight.