He looked sideways at me. “Wait a minute. Are you one of those people who doesn’t like her food to touch?”
I lifted my shoulders. “Not really.”
Confession: I’m one of those people who doesn’t like her food to touch.
He groaned. “You are, aren’t you? Figures.” Bringing his beer to his mouth again, he took a long swallow.
“Hey listen. I’m very appreciative of the burger and the help. Can we leave it at that and not argue, please?”
“I’m not arguing. I’m making fun of you.”
I gave him a dirty look, and he laughed.
“OK, sorry. I won’t do it anymore, even though you make it so easy.” He nudged my leg with his. “I liked your class tonight. You’re a good teacher.”
Swallowing, I placed my palm on my chest. “Was that an actual compliment? My heart’s all aflutter!”
“It was, and you’re welcome. Don’t get used to it.” He drank again. “You put your alarm in yet?”
I nodded imperiously, picking up my beer. “As a matter of fact, I did. Are you proud of me?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” He clinked his bottle against mine.
“Any more news on the burglar? Or burglars?” I pushed the big carton of fries between us so we could share what was left, but Charlie poked them back toward me.
“You finish them. You need a little more meat on your bones.” This with a glance at my less-than-Krista-sized breasts. “And no, nothing new on those guys. They’ve hit a few more houses since yours, mostly people who still leave their garages or cars or back doors unlocked. Which kills me, because it’s not like these guys are breaking in.”
I ignored his dig at my lack of rack and picked up some fries. “That’s crazy. I can’t believe people are so dumb. I mean, I did it too, but after all the warnings in the news…” Shaking my head, I shoveled some fries in my mouth. They were cold but still crispy and mouth-wateringly salty. Give me salt over sweet any day.
“It’s not just being dumb. People are too trusting. They always think something bad won’t happen to them. These guys are taking advantage of that, and getting away with it.”
“You don’t think they’ll be caught?” The thought distressed me. Even if I didn’t get my stuff back, I wanted the guy who’d violated my privacy to be punished.
He shrugged. “Not every asshole gets punished. But if I do find the one that broke into your house, I plan on serving up a little justice of my own.”
“What kind of justice?”
“The kind that’s dispensed by my fists.”
I glanced at his hands. He had strong, thick hands. A scar on one knuckle. Workingman’s hands, but with clean fingernails. Nice long fingers. Mmm, his fingers. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Fuck the rules.” The stubborn set of his profile and the heat beneath his words told me he took my break-in seriously. And personally.
“Thanks.”
“You can thank me after I kick his ass.”
“I will. I’d like to watch. And mind you, I am not a person who enjoys violence. But I think I’d enjoy that.”
“Makes two of us.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, me munching French fries and getting a little worked up at the thought of Charlie kicking somebody’s ass for me, of seeing him aroused to violence on my behalf. Something fluttered between my legs, and I crossed them at the ankle.
Charlie finished up his second beer, but I thought I’d better stick to one tonight—two, and I was liable to invite him to back to my house for a little more drilling. The memory of being bent over that island hit me again, and I closed my eyes, squeezing my thighs together just for a second. Jesus. That orgasm was so intense. Why should it be that intense with someone I’m not in love with? It didn’t seem fair. Could I justify sleeping with Charlie? Because if he was that good with his hands, imagine how good he was with his—
He laughed.
My eyes snapped open. “What’s funny?”
“You. You just moaned.”
“What?”
“You moaned just now, and your eyes were closed. What were you thinking about?”
“Uh, these fries.” I shoved the last one in my mouth and chewed frantically.
“Erin.” He put a hand on my leg. “What were you thinking about? I want to know.”
I swallowed. Should I just tell him the truth? I barely knew Charlie. I barely liked Charlie. But maybe it was because I didn’t like him all that much that I figured I might as well be honest. What did I have to lose? After a breath, I looked him in the eye. “I was thinking about that night in my kitchen.”
“Yeah? What about it?”
And I heard it—the low, hushed tone. He’s turned on too. “I liked it.”
“You, a person who does not enjoy violence, liked being coerced in the dark like that? Forced to do what I wanted you to?”
“Yes. Does that surprise you?”
“Actually,” he said slowly, “it scares me a little.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what I would have done to you if the lights hadn’t come back on.”
My stomach cartwheeled. “Turn off the lights and do it now.”
He inhaled and exhaled, deep and controlled. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”