Smitten

SAM

Light snow streaked in front of my glaring headlights, and the splatter of the tires rolling through slush filled the car.

Evie relaxed in the passenger’s seat, doing a decent job of hiding her nerves about meeting my parents. Her deep-green, long-sleeve dress ended just past her knees and hugged her thighs.

She’d stolen a pair of three-inch ankle boots from Saanvi—I’d urged her to wear flats because of her sore ankle, but she’d ignored me. Still, I had to admit, they made her legs look even longer and slimmer than usual.

Evie peered at me, spinning one of those endless chestnut curls around her finger as she caught me periodically taking my eyes off the road to look at her. “What?”

“Nothing.” I smirked. “I’m just wondering what kind of underwear you’ve got on tonight. Before we left your house, I didn’t see a single panty line.”

“You’re horrible,” she said, her emerald eyes gleaming.

“I’m observant,” I countered.

Evie abruptly hiked up her dress, exposing her flawless skin as if I’d requested it. I hadn’t, but hell if I was going to complain.

She seized my arm, spread her legs, and guided my hand between her thighs, forcing my fingers against the warmth of her panties. “Guess,” she ordered.

With an already half-hard cock, I did as she instructed, circling my fingers over the textured material guarding her pussy. Lace, probably. By the time my fingertips reached the curve of her ass, the fabric was long gone.

I smirked. “It’s definitely a thong.”

“What color?” she demanded.

“How am I supposed to know that when I can’t take my eyes off the road to look?” I pointed out.

“Think long and hard, Vázquez.”

The only long and hard thing I could think about was the throbbing shaft in my pants, which was hoping for a little payback after what she’d done to me last night.

“I don’t know, angel…I give.”

“Remember that hot pink one you pulled from my drawer this morning?” she asked.

“You didn’t…,” I groaned.

Evie perked a brow. “I did.”

Just as my fingertips slithered under the thong and brushed her clit, she drew back my arm, leaving me hanging in the cold.

“Aw, come on.” I huffed.

“Nope.” She snickered. “Sorry.”

Honestly, I was just happy she had her sexual sense of humor back. I smirked. “Now who’s toying with whom?”

As I pulled the car down Burberry Lane, Evie gazed at the Christmas lights, but all my attention was suddenly fixated on my parents’ house—and the black BMW sitting in the driveway.

I pulled in, parking behind the vehicle, and pivoted my key to the off position. “Unbelievable,” I huffed. “What’s Carla doing here?”

“Carla? As in, your ex-wife?” Evie raised her brows. “Did you know she was coming?”

“No,” I said shortly. Carla definitely wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. I knew she was in town, but did they have to invite her to dinner so soon?

I wanted everything to be perfect when I introduced Evie to my mom and dad, and Carla would find a way to screw that up. I knew it.

We headed toward the house. The single string of multi-colored Christmas lights on the deck lit the cobblestone accent wall around the indigo-blue front door. It was a pretty sight. Still, I dreaded going in.

Evie suddenly flooded my view. “Hey…it’ll be okay,” she said, gently clasping the front of my jacket. “I’ll be right next to you whenever you need me.”

“It’s just…Carla has a way of making people feel small. Even more so since the divorce,” I tried to explain.

“Well…” Evie’s nude lipstick gained a smirk. “In my experience, ‘small’ is a word I’d never use to describe you.”

“Evie, you dirty girl…” I grinned, enclosing her in my arms. “You sure know how to make a man feel better.”

“I’m just nailing Operation Fake Relation,” she pointed out.

~And oh, how I wish I could nail you. Again.~

“So, are there any talking points I should avoid?” she asked. “Any fake stories I need to conjure?”

My brows pinched. “What do you mean?”

“Like, do you want them to know that I’m your secretary?” she asked with a weak shrug.

As she stared at me, I craved to climb back in the car and drive her to my place. The last time I was this smitten, it was with Carla—before I figured out exactly how wrong Carla was for me. Feeling this way about someone again was equal parts amazing and scary.

Evie was so damn pretty tonight. More than usual, even. Not for any reason, either. Her hair was in its usual voluminous style, cascading endlessly along her back, and her makeup was the same as always.

But it was as if the more time I spent with her, the more gorgeous she got.

“Yeah, don’t make up any fake stories,” I muttered, remembering that she’d asked me a question. “Just be yourself.”

She blessed me with a sentimental smile, and I couldn’t help but grin in return.

“Come on,” I said, nodding toward the house.

As we strolled up the driveway, Evie clutched my arm, afraid to fall while wearing the shoes I’d begged her to reconsider. The idea of her hurting herself was driving me crazy.

Not to mention, they raised her three inches closer to kissing distance, which teased me beyond belief. Hell, who was I kidding? That was probably why she’d worn them—the little minx.

When we stepped onto the front porch, my father slipped outside, closing the front door behind him.

A white-and-navy flannel shrouded his tall, slender frame, paired with dark-blue jeans. His tan, clean-shaven face bore an uneasy smile.

“As you can probably tell, we’ve got an unexpected houseguest,” he said.

“Yeah, I thought she wasn’t supposed to be here tonight,” I said.

“Apparently, Carla had other plans. I guess John doesn’t fly in until next week, and she’s lonely without him,” Pops said, rolling his sky-blue eyes. “We can ask her to leave if you don’t want her here.”

“No. No, it’s okay. She can stay,” Evie interrupted. “How bad can she be?”

~Clearly, you don’t know my ex-wife…~

I sighed, glancing at my fake girlfriend. “Pops, this is Evie. Evie, this is my father, Fernando.”

Evie smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Sam’s told us a lot,” he said with a smile.

~Goddammit, Pops.~

I wished he wouldn’t tell Evie that I’d already been talking to my folks about her. That probably made her feel weird, or like she had to question our business casual arrangement.

“Why don’t you guys come inside?” Pops offered. “It’s cold out.”

I delicately palmed Evie’s lower back to guide her ahead of me as we followed my father across the threshold. This might purely be a fake relationship, but my parents had raised me right. Allowing a lady to go first was a respectful gesture.

As I shut the door behind us, my mother stepped into the foyer. Thanks to the bright crystal chandelier overhead, I could clearly see Ma’s worried expression for the split second before it turned into a welcoming grin.

My ex-wife followed close behind. Carla sported her usual diamond earrings, heavy ash-blonde highlights, and a coach bag, no doubt provided for by her professional athlete of a husband.

My mother, wearing her favorite navy Christmas sweatshirt with the snowman on it, headed straight for Evie.

“Ma, this is Evie,” I said, smiling. “Evie, this is my mother, Regina. And”—I took a deep breath—“that is Carla, my ex-wife.”

Maybe it was just me who noticed, but my ex-wife’s name rolled off my tongue as if it was coated in acid. Introducing my new girlfriend to my cheating ex-wife had that effect.

“It’s lovely to meet you, dear,” Ma said, clasping Evie’s hands. “Sam has told us so much about you.”

~Dammit, Ma.~

Evie smiled sweetly. “All good, I hope.”

Carla raised her thin, rosy upper lip and pricked a skeptical umber-colored brow. The way she was looking at Evie was nerve-wracking. I knew that look. What I ~didn’t~ know, however, was if it meant trouble for Evie, me, or both.