Cup of Sugar (14 page)

“Ugh, I know.” Suddenly, her feet were taking her toward Conn. Had to be that gravitational sort of pull he had over her, because she knew better than to get too close. “This winter has been ridiculous. I’m thinking of trading my car for a snowmobile.”

“That’ll be interesting when the snow melts.”

“I’ll get a motorcycle for summertime. Problem solved.”

His dark eyebrows rose, disappearing under the edge of his toque. He cut the distance between them to a handful of inches. Mischievous, steel-blue eyes twinkled down at her. “Do you ride?”

Oh god. After their night in the motel, he knew one answer to that question. She’d ridden him to the peak of happy hill.

She pushed the memory aside and focused on a safer interpretation of the question. “We had a couple of dirt bikes and used to rip around on them. My dad had an old Yamaha Virago I took out occasionally. It’s been awhile, but I still have my license.”

“Damn.” His gaze wandered up and down her body appreciatively, despite her buttoned-to-the-chin winter coat and the fuzzy, pink scarf oozing from the beneath the collar. “You’d look ten kinds of hot on a bike.”

“Only ten?” She hadn’t meant to flirt, it’d slipped out. Oh, the lies she told herself.

“Ten in the first ten seconds I saw you.” He winked.

“Very smooth recovery.”

“Years of practice with my older sister. The house was overrun with Lindsay’s friends while I was growing up. Had to learn the fine balance of teasing and flattery at a young age.” He pulled his shovel from the bank and motioned at hers. “We’ll do your side first. I’ll take care of the mess the plow left behind, you can do the lighter stuff.”

“You don’t have to help me.”

“I know.” He jabbed the blade of the shovel under the pile, then tossed the massive scoop of heavy snow over his shoulder as if it were cotton balls. “Friends help each other out. Good thing we’re friends, right?”

Right. Because when she thought about Conn—which seemed to be all the freaking time—she had buddy-like thoughts. Uh-huh. She nodded and got to work.

Clearing the fresh snow went quickly enough, aside from Zeus stalking the wide, red end of her shovel each time she pushed it across the driveway. The dog either loved or hated the sound the plastic blade made scraping the asphalt. About every third pass or so, he’d bark and bite at the edge. Not with any serious intent to destroy, but hard enough to lift the thing off the ground.

Nia didn’t mind the disruption in her progress—it drew Conn’s attention. She got to see his smile. Hear his deep voice when he halfheartedly scolded his dog, his laugh the times Zeus jerked the shovel out of her hands and made off with it.

Before she knew it, they’d cleared both sides of the driveway. She’d never been so disappointed to finish shoveling snow.

“All done. You’re good to go.”

Meaning, time up. Crap. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem.” Conn clicked his tongue and Zeus trotted to his side. “Drive safely later. They’re calling for more snow to blow in before midnight. Heavy stuff like this. As much as six solid inches coming our way.”

“If only my personal forecast was as optimistic.” Again with the flirting.

A gut-deep laugh burst from his mouth.

She loved that sound. Too much for her own good. “Thanks again,” she said as she headed for the safety of her house.

“Hey, sweetheart.” With that one word, he stopped her, made the little flutters in her stomach race up to her heart. “You off tomorrow?”

“I am.” She didn’t ask why he wanted to know. Too dangerous a question. If he suggested an indoor activity that included
his
solid inches, she might go for it. Saying yes to Conn was so much more fun than playing it safe.

He tapped his shovel against the driveway. “Then I’ll probably see you out here.”

“It’s a date.” The words slipped out. Rolled off her tongue, actually. But it was just a figure of speech, it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything.

The grin on Conn’s face said he didn’t believe that any more than she did.

She was in so much trouble.

* * * * *

Stupid phone, daring to ring on a Sunday morning. Nia patted around on the bedside table until she located it, then pulled it under the covers, issuing a groggy, “Hello?”

“Were you sleeping?” Sara. Calling at half past nine on a weekend morning. That set off the alarm bells.

Nia jerked upright. “What’s wrong?”

“Tons. But nothing that affects you. Tell me you’re still in bed because the hottie next door kept you up all night. Better yet, hand him the phone—his voice is sexier than yours.”

Clearly not an emergency call. Nia burrowed back under the warm blankets. “I’m alone. And sleeping because I worked until one a.m. before driving home at a snail’s pace because I couldn’t see a foot in front of my headlights in the blizzard-like conditions.”

“Work and storm, blah, blah, blah. Listen, I can’t talk long. Unlike you, I had naked, male company last night. He’s in the shower right now and I’m using his phone so I don’t have to waste my money on the long-distance call.”

“Gosh, I’m touched. You should get a job writing greeting cards.”

Sara snorted on the other end of the line. “That’s not a bad idea. Anyway. You’ve been home two weeks. This is me being sisterly and shit, checking in to make sure you haven’t screwed things up.”

Wow. Crassness aside, this was huge. Especially coupled with Sara’s hug and advice at their parents’ house. Though she didn’t show it often, and even then, in her own unique way, Sara cared. Nia truly was touched.

“Everything’s fine here. How about with you?”

“
Fine?
Oh no you don’t. Try again, dude.”

From birth until college, they’d been best friends. And they were sisters. Of course Sara knew that “fine” was a line of hooey.

“At my request, Conn and I are just friends. Now you’re up to date.”

“And now my eyes hurt from rolling them so much. There’s only room for one fuckup in the family, and the title’s mine. You’re supposed to be the smart one, Nia. Throwing that fish back when he clearly wants to be reeled in is just plain stupid.” Sara’s muffled curse followed a brief pause. “I’ve got to go, the shower just shut off. But we’re not done talking about this. I’ll be in touch when I can.”

“Thanks…it means a lot that you called.”

“Prove it by listening to me, because I’m right for once.” Sara’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Love you, you dumb blonde.”

The call disconnected before Nia could respond. She stared at the phone, mouth open, heart stuttering.

Sara never used the word
love
toward people. The family counselor Nia had seen years ago had told her not to take it personally, that Sara withheld certain words and emotions out of fear, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel them. Sara’s behavior occasionally made that theory hard to believe. Something had changed. If Sara could let go of the past…

Maybe Nia should try it too.

Chapter Ten

Conn hand-tightened the last screw in the underside of the coffee table. He hefted the thing onto its legs, then wiped it down with a tack cloth. The client had wanted something “different” for her newly remodeled condo. Functional yet showy. Beyond that, no specifications.

The table had turned out damn awesome. And unlike anything else he’d made.

A couple months back, he’d stopped on the side of the road where a tree service was taking down a massive, gnarly tree that looked like something out of a scary movie. With no specific purpose in mind, he’d asked for a chunk. Then along came Ms. Smith’s request.

He’d cut a two-inch slab of trunk for the tabletop. Sanded and oiled it to a gleaming finish, then mounted it on custom-made, twisty, wrought-iron legs that resembled the gnarled tree. Nearly three feet in diameter with an amazing, multi-hued grain and half a dozen random, naturally occurring holes—the thing was heavier than a son of a bitch and looked like a million bucks. Yeah, if the client didn’t like it, this beauty was going straight to his living room.

But for now, the table served another purpose.

Conn scooped his cell off the bench and tapped the call button. Gritted his teeth when it rang and rang. He took the basement stairs two at a time and peered out the kitchen window. Nia’s Chevy sat beside his truck. No sign of her outside.

“Hello?” Nia’s breathless voice slid into his ear and just like that, he was halfway hard.

“Hey. Did I catch you running?”

“No, I was, um…”

Please, let her say she was in the bedroom. Because he had a mental image of Nia stretched out on her bed, getting herself off, that would work nicely with that answer.

“In the shower.”

He could work with that too. “Want me to call back?”

Muffled background noise drifted through the line. Next thing he knew, Nia’s kitchen blinds snapped open and she was smiling at him from across the driveways.

“It’s okay, now is good. I was hoping I’d catch you today.”

“Consider me caught.” Hook, line and sinker.

“I wanted to thank you for last night.”

“Hold up, sweetheart, who do you think this is?” Yeah, he already knew what she meant, but he couldn’t resist teasing. The sound of her giggle in his ear had him grinning. And hoping.

“For shoveling my driveway again while I was at work. It was such a relief to just pull in instead of having to dig my way through at one in the morning. I can’t believe you did that—well, actually, I can. Either way, thank you.”

That about sealed it. He’d stay up late every night she worked and clear her driveway. Nia didn’t
need
his help, but he sure did like being her white knight.

“So, what’s up?” she asked.

“Come over and I’ll show you.”

She laughed. “I meant, why are you calling?”

“Same answer.”

“Conn.”

“You’re thinking about my cock right now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god.” She’d be blushing like a summer rose, he’d put money on it. “Only because you brought it up.”

“Actually, sweetheart, you brought it up.” Let her take that any way she chose. “I called because I need an unbiased female opinion on a furniture project I just finished. Normally, I’d get my sister over here, but she’s away at the moment. I was hoping you could fill in.”

Silence.

“Nia?”

“You need a
sisterly
opinion, so you called me.”

Damn, she did not sound happy about that. Good. “Only if you have time.”

“Of course.” More frost. “I’ll throw on some clothes and pop over.”

Much as he’d like to tell her to skip the clothes and get her cute, naked ass over here, he went with, “Great” instead.

Throwing her off-kilter had proven positive so far. The more she believed he’d accepted the friends-only thing, the better. Patience, persistence and planning. He’d have that rule of hers permanently demolished in no time.

* * * * *

The tapping on Conn’s front door had Zeus scrambling and barking his big, fool head off. The dog normally considered holding the couch down more important than guarding the house. Seemed Conn and Zeus had a thing for the same woman.

“I don’t blame you, pal.” Conn patted the dog’s head before reaching for the doorknob. “But you’re going to have to hump a pillow or something. Nia’s all mine.”

He pulled the inside door wide open. Bam, the vision on his front porch practically knocked him on his ass.

Nia hadn’t bothered with a coat, and she hadn’t “thrown on some clothes” either. Her smooth, blonde hair shone in the late-morning sunshine. Lips glistened a deeper shade of pink than normal. Dark-blue jeans hugged her hips and thighs before disappearing into knee-high boots that definitely weren’t designed for outdoor winter use. She wore a tight, pale-pink sweater with a neckline so low, his mouth watered at the sight. He’d been thinking about her breasts for two long weeks.

She hugged herself—an action that pushed her incredible breasts higher—and shivered. “May I come in, or are you bringing whatever it is out here for me to look at?”

“Shit, sorry.” He pushed the storm door open and ushered her inside. “You look beautiful.” A possibility hit him below the belt. “Have a date this afternoon?”

“I thought I did…but then he shoveled the driveway without me.”

Perfect.

“So.” She stuffed her fingertips into her front pockets. “What did you want to show me?”

Couldn’t be helped, he had to give her the raised eyebrows on that one.

At which she rolled her pretty eyes. “That you want my
sisterly
opinion on?”

“In my workshop, down in the basement.” He shook his head when she reached down to unzip her boots. “Leave them on, there’s sawdust and stuff down there. Plus,” he met her eyes and winked, “those boots are hot.”

“Not a very brotherly thing to say.”

Seemed she’d taken his earlier comment about filling in for his sister much more literally than he’d intended. And she didn’t like it. He could let her stew about it some more…or not.

He stepped closer, watched her eyes widen. Another step and her breath hitched. The third step forced her backward, where he caged her, palms flat on the wall.

“Put your hands on me.”

“W-what?”

“Don’t confuse my respect for your boundaries as a lack of interest.” His gaze dropped to her parted lips. To the swell of her breasts, rapidly rising and falling, then back up to her glassy eyes. “Put your hands on me. See exactly how I feel about you. It’s not brotherly.”

Her eyes stayed locked with his. She didn’t speak, didn’t move—at first.

He bit back a groan when one hand landed on his chest. The lightest touch, it practically singed him through his t-shirt. Took all his willpower to stand there, immobile. His hands twitched. A few inches and he could have her silky hair wrapped around his fingers. He could cup her face and kiss those soft lips.

But he had to wait. Had to let her lead.

Her hand slid lower. Her fingers curled over the top edge of his jeans. The base of her palm brushed his fly, pressed against his cock. “I wish…” She shook her head.