Starting Fires by Makenzie Smith

supposed to arrive, my hair and makeup were done to perfection. Nothing over the top, but I had put effort into looking good. As I waited in the kitchen, I heard a horn honking in my driveway, and walked to the front door to peek out of the blinds. His Buick was waiting for me. Annoyed, I stomped out to his car. Through his window, I could see that he was wearing sunglasses, but knew he was watching me the whole way. I huffed when I got in, so he would know I was aggravated. He didn’t pull out of the driveway right away and I looked at him with wide eyes, signaling that I didn’t understand what the holdup was.
    He was smiling and chewing gum. His green shirt was tight across his chest and shoulders, and even though he wasn’t standing, I knew that his jeans hugged him perfectly. Still grinning, he reached his hand over the back of my seat and pulled out of the drive. Once on the road, I looked over at him and watched his jaw work as he chewed. For some reason, that was extremely sexy, and I sighed as I laid my head back on the seat.
    “It shouldn’t take you as long today, right?” he asked. Since I was only doing a week’s worth, no it wouldn’t. I told him so. He seemed pleased, and I wondered if he had some place he wanted to be later.
    As we pulled into the bar, I turned to look at him. “You’re a liar,” I said.
    He laughed, seeming a little confused. “Why?”
    “You promised food the next time I came to help. Is there food in there? Because if there isn’t, you’re a liar.”
    His face fell. “I completely forgot,” he said, sounding genuinely remorseful.
    As I got out, I said, “I guess I can forgive you,” over the roof of his car. He met me at the front bumper and I had a feeling he was about to put his hand on the small of my back to lead me towards the door. Instead of letting him, I took a quick step away and smiled over my shoulder.
    I was right. His hand was paused mid-air, right where my back previously was. He took off his sunglasses and smiled nice and slow. Unable to help myself, I giggled as I walked away.
    We stopped at the front door and he fished his keys back out of his pocket, trying to locate the one to the bar. I don’t know why he hadn’t just left them out, but as he slid his free hand around me, I felt butterflies in my stomach and was suddenly grateful. I turned towards him and loved the feeling of his chest against my shoulder. His fingertips rubbed over my hipbone, and I realized how much I’d missed this. Touching. Showing affection.
    He unlocked the door and I went straight to his office. All of the invoices, receipts, and deposits were sitting on his desk, so I immediately began working. Lucas didn’t check on me, but I saw him pass the door every now and then carrying things to and from the supply room.
    After I was finished, I started printing my work to put in his records, but the printer stopped after the first page. The display flashed red. Out of paper. I hated that. Only one page. It felt like a tease. I went to the supply room and opened the cabinet at the back corner. The paper was on the top shelf, but I couldn’t quite reach it. I was stretching for it, when I felt Lucas put a hand to my waist. He reached up with his other and brought the paper down to my eye level.
    I waited for him remove his hand. He didn’t. I waited for him to say something. He didn’t. Realizing that I wasn’t going to turn around, he took a step back and leaned against the table on the opposite wall. My body felt strange. My muscles were tight. My pulse was fast. When I looked at him, the tension in the air grew. We stood like that, staring at one another—both wanting the same thing, but unwilling to make the first move. Tired of my indecisive desires, I took a step towards him.
    I wasn’t touching him. Not yet. But my eyes bore into his as I tried to tell him how much I wanted this. Without saying anything, he reached out and pulled me between his legs. Our lower bodies