Too Hot To Handle: A Small Town Military Romance by Chloe Morgan

Author:Chloe Morgan [Morgan, Chloe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Clay

A knock at the door caught my attention. I furrowed my brow as I looked out the kitchen window. I didn’t know anyone in town who could know where I lived. Then again, I was in my parents’ house. The entire city probably knew where they lived. I sighed as the knock came at the door again, resolving myself to company when I wanted to be alone on a Friday night after work.

“Coming!” I exclaimed.

I padded down the small hallway and reached for the door. I stopped, taking in a deep breath and trying to put on my best smile. But when I opened the door, that fake smile turned into a genuine one.

Because Ira stood there on my porch with a bottle of wine in her hand.

“Care for some company?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t mind it at all, no,” I said.

I stepped off to the side, ushering her into the house. She walked through it like she’d been there on several occasions. Of course, she would have been. She was probably the closest to my parents of those that worked at the restaurant. I shut the door and locked it, then peered out the door window to see if anyone was watching.

I felt like I was on trial for something.

“Would you care for a drink?” Ira called out.

“I’d love one. The corkscrew’s in the—”

I heard the cabinet door open before Ira’s soft grunts came down the hallway.

“Cabinet,” I murmured.

I walked back into the kitchen and saw her working with the wine opener. The noises she was making made my pants feel tight. The way her body sloped and moved as she pried that bottle of wine open left my mouth salivating. Fucking hell, Ira was a beautiful woman. Yet she hid it underneath baggy clothes and jeans that did nothing for that beautiful ass of hers. Still, she was radiant. The starlight pierced the kitchen window as she poured us each a glass of white wine. And when she turned around, her effortless smile filled me with a calming warmth.

“Could we talk?” she asked.

I plucked my glass of wine from her hand.

“About anything you want,” I said.

“What is this I’m hearing about Jason and the restaurant Wednesday?”

“Ah. That.”

“Yes. That. I was at work all day today and you didn’t make one mention of it. Why not?” she asked.

I ushered her to sit down at the table.

“Jason is under the assumption that I’m playing favorites. He thinks I favor you over the rest of the staff because I gave you the day off when you called in,” I said.

“Because my father was sick,” she said.

“Yes.”

“So, he caused a stir about it?”

“Of sorts. He kept it confined to the kitchen, but it was still pretty loud. He ducked out an hour before his shift was over, stating that his father was sick and he needed to go.”

“Oh. So, he’s mocking me now. That’s great,” she said.

“I’m not sure what his deal is, but I’m assuming he’s still kicking back at me for making him be on time for his shifts.

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