“This is a Phillips head screwdriver.” They were finishing installing the new knob and deadbolt on the front door. “You use it to screw in this kind of screw.” He showed him the small screw in his hand.
“Can I hold it? What if you need to take a screw out? Do you use a different tool? Are there other ones named after people? There’s a kid in my class named Philip.”
Nate seemed a bit frazzled, no doubt trying to figure out how to answer four questions at once.
“I forgot to tell you.” I approached. “Talking to Rocco is like attending a press conference. There will always be one more question.”
He laughed and looked up from his position on the floor. Damn, he was handsome. My hand itched to reach out and touch his hair.
“Redirection and distraction are your friends,” I said. “And if all else fails, pulling a quarter out of his ear is a crowd-pleaser.”
“Noted,” he replied, still smiling, and went back to work on the door. “So, Laney, you never said last night—what is it you do for a living? I know you work in an office …”
“Oh, right.” I leaned against the wall next to the front door. I suck at small talk. “You know those new chips on credit cards that protect all your information?”
“Sure. I heard everyone was switching over to those. You program those?”
“No. But you know how some credit card machines still make you swipe instead of using the chip? Well, there are companies whose job it is to convert all the machines so everyone has to use the chip. That’s what my company does.”
“And you somehow make that happen?” He lowered the screwdriver again.
Rocco, clearly bored by the interruption in the action, wandered down the hallway away from us, probably to disrobe or make up a new song about vaginas.
“No. But I write technical procedures for the people who devise the actual procedures to make that happen.” Oh God, could I possibly be any more boring?
“So, you’re like the woman behind the curtain.” It was sweet how he was trying to make me sound more interesting than I am.
“More like I’m the woman who transforms geek-speak into normal-person-speak.”
He finished with the screwing (ha!) and stood to face me so I had to look up. His lips were curved upward and there was that damn dimple. “Ah, so you’re a translator. That probably comes in handy in many areas,” he mused. “Perhaps you could use your skills to help me understand women.”
“No can do.” I shook my head, feeling a little light-headed at his closeness. “Our jobs as women are to exist as enigmas whose sole purpose is to render men absolutely perplexed. Help me understand men, though, and I may be able to crack a bit of the code for you.” Oh crap, was I flirting?
“That’s easy—give us food, sleep, and sex and we’re good.” His lips quirked again.
“I’ll jot that down.” Mine returned the favor.
“Just be sure you reference the original source in the bibliography.”
“Rest assured, I wouldn’t dream of attributing that little gem of wisdom to anyone else. You are a true savant, Nate. Has anyone ever told you that?” Definitely flirting. This conversation was too inane to be anything else than a prelude to sexy time.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a smart mouth?”
Before I could respond he tugged me into his arms and kissed the hell out of said mouth.
Bring on the sexy time.
Chapter Nine
Fishing
NATE
Her lips were velvety, and she tasted of mint and soda. One of my hands lifted to her cheek and the smooth skin I found helped me understand why she seemed to spend so much time stroking it herself. I could spend an entire day just kissing and caressing her lips and face alone—okay, well I doubt I’d be able to stop myself there. As my other hand reached to tangle in her hair, I tested the seam of her lips with my tongue and she parted without further encouragement, granting entrance to my tongue so it could taste hers.
I could feel her body shaking a bit, out of nerves or excitement I didn’t know and I couldn’t have cared less at that moment. But her tongue eagerly dueled with mine as I turned her toward the wall and pinned her there. My thigh found its way between hers and I pressed. My cock stood at attention as I ground into her leg with the finesse of a fifteen-year-old.
This girl was driving me crazy. I couldn’t stop myself from bringing a hand from her cheek down her side and resting with my thumb just under her breast. She made a little gasping sound as she pulled her mouth away slightly to draw in a breath before moving back in for more. One of her hands drove into the back of my hair while something cold pressed into the small of my back.
Huh? Before I could comprehend what it could be it was gone and a loud clank came from behind me. Laney came to attention abruptly as she pulled back from me, a surprised look overtaking her eyes. The rest of her face remained flushed and her lips swollen from our kisses. She couldn’t pull back far since I still had her pinned to the wall, and her breasts rose and fell as they remained pressed into my chest. She tried to look around me but my height prevented it.
“What’s wrong?” I ground out, focused on getting my mouth back on hers.
“Um.” One hand came to her cheek and her eyes darted away from mine. “I think I spilled my soda on you.”
I stepped back from her and, sure enough, the can lay on the ground in a small puddle, and a hand to the ass of my jeans revealed a large wet spot.
“This is so embarrassing,” Laney mumbled, still leaning against the wall, both hands to her cheeks now.
I couldn’t help but smile at her. “Totally worth it.”
She returned my smile, hers a bit smaller, then disappearing completely. “Shit. Rocco.” Her eyes darted to the hall entrance.
Mine followed but no one was there. I admit I had completely forgotten about the kid, my attention had been focused solely on Laney and getting my hands on her. In retrospect, I suppose my timing could have been better.
“I’m so sorry,” she began again and darted around me toward the kitchen. “Let me get some paper towels and try to clean you, I mean this, I mean you know—up.” She came back with the paper towels and tore a few sheets off, thrusting the rest of the roll at me. I wouldn’t have minded her trying to clean me up herself.
“If you want, I can lend you some of Gavin’s jeans and run yours through the washer,” she offered from the floor where she was bent wiping up the mess. I had to force my gaze from her perfect backside.
“No thanks. I’ll be fine.” No way was I borrowing her brother’s clothes. Just, no. “I’ve got to get going in a little bit anyway. I’ll just swing by my place and change there. It’s not far.”
“I didn’t realize you lived close by.” She rose from the floor.
I could see her hardened nipples through her shirt and I lost focus for a moment.
“Yeah, I’ve got a little apartment between here and New Garden. It’s pretty crappy, really, but it’s just temporary so I don’t mind.”
An indecipherable look crossed her face. “Well, at least let me feed you or get you something to drink before you go. I can’t let you work for free.” Her smile was mostly back, some of her discomfort had dissipated.
“I won’t say no to a soda, but this time you can just hand it to me.” I followed her to the kitchen.
“Haha.” Her cheeks began to pink again. Damn, that look was good on her.
I wanted to see how else I could get her to turn pink.
“I’ve got Diet Coke and Mountain Dew.” She reached into the refrigerator.
“Mountain Dew. I’ve had enough Diet Coke already today,” I teased again.
“You take classes on how to be a smartass?” The sass was back.
I took the soda and smiled at her. She seemed to like that because she just stared back at me for a silent beat.
Rocco skipped into the kitchen, ending our little moment, and a double take confirmed that, while he still wore the shirt from earlier, his pants were missing.
Laney’s hand covered her eyes and then she shook it off and smiled at me. “Did I neglect to tell you we have a pants-optional policy in our house?” She seemed to realize exactly what she’d said a moment too late and I couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
“Good God.” She covered her eyes again but then smiled and threw a dish towel at me. “Shut up.”
“You shouldn’t say ‘shut up,’ Mommy,” said Rocco, opening the pantry door. Squeak.
“I know, baby, I’m sorry. Nate was being very naughty and I forgot. I’m going to make you some lunch so we can head over to that playdate soon, okay?”
The kid didn’t respond. But I noticed his nose twitch again. Did he have a troublesome booger or something?
“That sounds like fun,” I offered, leaning against the counter and opening my soda.
Still no response.
“I’ll bet you’ve got lots of new friends in the neighborhood, huh?”
Just a shoulder shrug and a nose twitch. Should I get him a tissue?
“I’m gonna play Ninja Turtles.” And he was gone.
“Was it something I said?” I asked Laney, who had her head in the refrigerator pulling out lunch fixings.
“No, not at all. He’s just having a rough time making friends his own age, and there have been a lot of changes recently so he needs time to catch up.”
“Oh.” I was a bit relieved to not be the cause of any upset. I was also curious about these changes but didn’t want to pry too much. “So, I assume moving here was a recent change.” I hedged.
“Very,” she confirmed, now at the counter making a PB&J. “Until a few weeks ago we lived with my parents, but they decided to move to Virginia and it was time anyway, you know.” She rested the knife and looked up at me.
No, I didn’t know, but it was sounding like the baby-daddy wasn’t in the picture. I wanted to know more but I stayed silent, hoping she’d elaborate on her own.