Getting Dumped (14 page)

I wasn’t surprised to see Daniel still wearing his tie and work clothes when he arrived on my doorstep twenty minutes later.

I
was
surprised he looked rumpled and untucked, with a faint five o’clock shadow that made him seem uncharacteristically rough around the edges.

It was kind of hot.

“Daniel,” I said, stepping aside to let him through the door. “Thanks for coming over.”

“No problem, hon,” he said as he bent to place a kiss on my forehead. “I know things have been a little strained between us lately, but you know you can call me anytime.”

“Thank you.” I closed the door and hugged my arms around me. I had pulled an old cashmere cardigan over my pjs, but hadn’t bothered doing anything else to get dressed. It’s not like Daniel hadn’t seen me scantily clad before.

Seeing me shiver, Daniel stepped close. “Come here, you must be freezing. Want some cocoa or something?”

I nodded against his chest, feeling warm and comforted and soothed by familiarity. Exactly what I’d wanted when I’d picked up the phone to call him.

“Why don’t you go wrap up in that blanket on the couch,” he said. “I’ll make the cocoa and then you can tell me all about what happened.”

“I should change clothes—”

“No,” he said, already moving toward the kitchen. “I’ll warm you up.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant the cocoa or the blanket or some innocent cuddling, but I was up for any of those things.

Maybe a few other things, too.

“Four spoonfuls of cocoa mix, right?” he called from the kitchen.

“Right. Thank you.”

I snuggled under the blanket and was just getting settled when Daniel joined me on the couch. “Here you go,” he said, handing me the mug as he crawled under the blanket with me. “Now start at the beginning. What happened with your handbag?”

So I told the whole story – the one I’d attempted to tell on the phone before I broke down in pathetic, girly sobs.

Daniel listened quietly, punctuating his attention with the occasional sip of his cocoa or pleasant squeeze of my bare knee.

He was right – I
did
feel much warmer all of a sudden.

“So you have no idea who’d do something like that?” he asked.

I shook my head and sipped my cocoa. “No, but I’m going to find out.”

He frowned. “JJ, please don’t do anything dangerous. I know you drive heavy equipment for a living and you’re a tough, competent, independent woman, but I really think you need to be careful here.”

“And do what?
Nothing
?”

“Keeping yourself safe is not
nothing
.” He laced his fingers through mine and lifted my hand to his lips. “That’s the most important thing in the world.”

I thought about arguing, but I was too tired and still a little freaked out about everything. I set my cocoa mug down and snuggled closer to Daniel. He slid his arm around me and planted a kiss on my forehead.

I looked up, needing a little more than a forehead kiss this time.

“I know we agreed to slow things down a little, but—”

I didn’t have to finish that sentence. Daniel was many things, but
dense
wasn’t one of them. He moved his lips to mine and kissed me exactly the way I love to be kissed. Slow and deep and soft and so skillfully I feared I might actually slide right off the couch.

“Slippery,” he murmured, fingering the silky edge of my cami top.

“Mmmm,” I agreed as I shifted to press my breast against his palm.

“God, JJ.” His fingers slid beneath the cool silk and I gasped as his palm slid over my bare nipple. His other hand flicked the spaghetti strap off my shoulder, and the top went sliding down into a puddle around my waist.

Daniel moved his hands to my shoulders and broke the kiss to sit back. He stared for a few beats, his chest rising and falling beneath the rumpled dress shirt and my fingers fumbled with the knot on his tie.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Would you like to move to the bedroom?”

I bit my lip, hesitating. Did I really want things to go that far right now? Deep down, I knew I could probably be seduced to the point of flinging my clothes across the room if we stayed right here on the couch.

But somehow, the process of getting up and making a conscious decision to move things to the bedroom shifted everything from a heat-of-the-moment, passion-fueled romp to a conscious choice.

Sometimes, I hated conscious choices.

Daniel must have sensed my hesitation, because he drew me close and began kissing me again. I felt my brain start to spin and seriously considered the clothing flinging thing again.

“Daniel, wait,” I said, pulling back. “I don’t know that this is such a good idea.”

He frowned. “It’s why you called, isn’t it?”

Was it?

No, of course it wasn’t. I had called for comfort. For familiarity. For safety.

OK, maybe for a little fooling around, too.

“How about if we just keep it to second base for now?”

He cocked an eyebrow at me, then nodded down at my missing top. “Is that second base or third?”

“I forget. Baseball was never my thing.”

“Hmmm,” he said as he began to nuzzle my neck. “Did I ever tell you I played in the minor leagues for a couple years after college?”

“Then you know all the bases.”

“I do.”

I smiled as his mouth moved down my throat and over my collarbone. “Why don’t you show me the first couple bases for now?”

“Hullo?”

I held my breath for a moment, thinking this was probably a very bad idea.

“Hullo, is anyone there?”

“Hey, Collin, it’s me. JJ. From work?”

“JJ. Yes, of course. Is everything okay?”

“I was just worried. About – um, well, about – about the mold.”

“The mold.” The flatness of his voice told me he wasn’t buying my flimsy excuse.

“The scary mold you told me about?” I prompted.

“Yes, of course. I remembered right after I left that I never checked your shower. I do apologize for that.” He hesitated. “You’re frightened then?”

“A little,” I admitted. “It might not just be the mold.”

“Indeed, you had quite a scare this evening.” He was quiet a moment. “Would you feel better if I came and did a quick check for Cryptococcus gattii or anything else that might be frightening?”

I nodded into the phone, feeling like a silly girl, but also feeling immensely relieved. “Would you mind?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Collin.”

I hung up the phone and got dressed, putting on the same jeans and boots and sweater I’d been wearing earlier.

Even though I was expecting it, I still jumped when the doorbell rang. I checked the peephole to be sure it was him, and then opened the door.

“Thanks for coming over at this hour,” I said. “I was just scared and—”

“Say no more,” Collin said, stepping inside. “Cryptococcus gattii is nothing to trifle with.”

“Er, right. Okay, the mold is this way.”

I led him down the hall to my tiny, cramped bathroom. Nudging the door open, I flipped the light switch to bathe the room in a soft, white glow. I took a moment to admire my pretty, polished pedestal sink, the waffle weave towels in coordinating shades of purple and lavender, the tiny bouquet of dried wildflowers arranged in a Pottery Barn vase on a small shelf above the toilet.

“Lovely,” Collin said, stepping forward to admire my décor. At least, that’s what I thought he was admiring. Then I caught the direction of his gaze and looked up. There, right where I’d hung them to dry the night before, was a tidy line of lacy bras and panties arranged on top of my shower curtain rod. I felt my face heat up, but pushed past him, determined not to let him see my mortification. Or my skivvies.

“I wasn’t expecting to entertain a strange man in my bathroom this evening,” I said, carefully plucking my unmentionables from the curtain rod and tucking them under my towels in the basket beside the sink.

“Ah, I see. You normally only entertain strange men in your bathroom on certain nights of the week?”

“Exactly.”

Collin stepped forward, peering into the bathtub to study the grout lines along the wall. He peered at the shower curtain briefly before stepping over the rim of the bathtub to inspect it from the other side.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, fingering the curtain.

I stepped closer, suddenly concerned at the thought that I might have been showering with deadly fungus for several weeks. “Is it the bad fungus you were talking about?”

He glanced over at me. “I have no idea. But this shower curtain is identical to the one in my ex-girlfriend’s apartment.”

I rolled my eyes. “These are your keen powers of scientific analysis at work?”

“It was merely an observation.”

I took another step closer to the tub, admiring the way his amber eyes glittered behind his glasses.

“So can you really tell anything about this fungus without a microscope or something?”

“Come over here and take a look at this,” he said, moving a little to the side to make room for me in the tub.

I hesitated just a moment before stepping over the edge and moving into place beside him. The smell of lilacs from my shower gel and water lilies from the candles on the edge of the tub caught me in the same breath as the warmth radiating from Collin’s shoulder. I inhaled the scent of fresh grass and clean wool, wondering if it was a cologne or just Collin. I breathed in again, trying not to get too carried away by my senses.

Collin scooted over a few inches, his elbow brushing the side of my arm as I moved beside him. He didn’t seem to notice, nor did he notice the way I leaned closer, wanting to feel more of that heat.

Collin leaned down, his face nearly level with mine as he peered at a spot on my shower curtain. He fingered the edge of the fabric, his arm brushing my shoulder as he moved. I gripped the edge of my soap dish for balance, wondering if it was always this hot in my bathroom.

“You see this right here?” he asked, his breath ruffling my hair and making me dizzy. I leaned closer.

“What, that little speck?” I asked, pointing.

“No, that’s soap scum,” he said, taking my finger and moving it up a few inches. “This little bit right here.”

“Oh. Yes. Is that the deadly cyber fungus you were talking about?”

“Certainly,” he said, his fingers still curled around mine as we stood there, our faces mere inches apart. “We’re both going to go into cardiac arrest within the hour. Any final requests before you die?”

My heart was pounding hard. I knew he was joking about the fungus, but I didn’t doubt that the risk of cardiac arrest was quite real.

I let my eyes slide to his, struggling to conjure up a snappy retort or a witty comment or maybe even a fire alarm that would rescue me from doing something really, really stupid with a man who had accused me of being a spy bent on sabotaging his job.

And that’s when Collin kissed me.

The kiss caught me by surprise.

So did the trail of cold water that dribbled down my neck as I bumped the shower head.

I whimpered faintly, less from discomfort than from the sheer, hot pleasure of Collin kissing me in my bathtub.

Kissing me so beautifully, so thoroughly, that I didn’t notice the water slithering down the leg of my jeans.

“Er, you seem to have turned on the faucet,” Collin observed, not sounding too concerned as he continued kissing a trail down my jawbone and along my throat.

I nudged the tap off with my wrist, barely caring that the water had probably just ruined a $400 pair of boots. I just wanted Collin to keep kissing me. I slid my palms up his arms, over shoulders that were surprisingly muscled, and up the back of his neck. Twining my fingers in his hair, I caught the edge of his glasses, knocking them askew on his face. Without even breaking the kiss, Collin pulled them off and tossed them out of the bathtub.

I gripped the back of his head, pulling him to me, angling my body up so I could feel more of him. His hair was baby-fine and curled around my fingers. He responded by moving harder against me, the pressure of his chest making my breasts tingle pleasantly.

I was breathing hard now, dizzy with the scent of lilacs and lilies and Collin. His hands cupped my shoulder blades, curving around the pointed bones to press me more firmly against him as his mouth continued to do amazing things to my throat. I gasped as the tip of his tongue found the sensitive spot behind my left earlobe. I let my head fall back, willing myself not to lose consciousness and hit my head on the faucet.

Collin’s hands slid lower, circling my lower back before sliding around to my waist, then up toward my ribcage. I felt him fumble with one of the buttons on my cardigan, then another. I tried to remember if I was wearing nice underwear or if I’d just stashed it all in my towel basket.

A few more inches, a few more buttons, and we’d both be finding out.

“This is crazy,” I murmured. I was almost surprised to realize I’d said it out loud.

“Should I stop?” he breathed against my throat, his hand hesitating on the next button.

“No,” I gasped. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Collin stopped kissing, but kept his mouth on my throat, his palm against my ribcage. “You don’t sound very certain,” he murmured, his accent noticeably thicker.

I took a shuddery breath. “Don’t you think there’s something wrong about necking in the shower with a stranger I met at the dump a week ago? A stranger who has accused me of some very bad things?”