Authors: Ruth Clampett
“Sounds like a Pulitzer.”
“All right smarty pants. You know it’s erotic romance so just deal with it.”
“I’m dealing. And what does Duke do for a living?”
“He’s a construction worker.”
“Let me guess, and he has scruff, worn jeans and a tool belt.”
“Maybe.”
“Does he wear that tool belt to bed?”
“I don’t know. So far all the sex hasn’t been in bed.”
“Whoa. He’s a stud! Where’s the sex happen?”
“Let me think . . . in his truck, the construction elevator, on top of her desk, in the back room of her studio . . . and I’m only three chapters in.”
“Does he ever actually do construction?”
“I don’t know, and frankly I don’t care.”
“Well I hope this woman he’s screwing has a good job. Somebody needs to bring home the bacon.”
“She’s an architect!”
I laugh. “And she’s the designer of all the stuff that he doesn’t construct because he’s too busy screwing her.”
“Okay Mr. Judgey. Can you be there at six? I have a meeting that may run late but I’m sure I’ll be home by then.”
“See you at six.”
When she opens her front door and sees me her expression is crestfallen. “What?” I hold my arms open.
“Where’s the wifebeater?”
“I don’t have one. And for the record that’s the worst name ever for a shirt.” I glance down at my T-shirt from the Gap. I wore the tight white one but I guess that doesn’t cut it. I rub my chin. “Look though, I didn’t shave.”
“But your jeans aren’t tight.”
“Elle, I can’t wear tight jeans. You know why.”
She blushes. “Oh yeah. The anaconda.”
“So are you going to invite me in? I’m here to help you, so it would be nice if I could actually come inside.”
She pulls the door open farther and gestures me in. “Sorry about that. Come in.”
I glance back at her and she’s pouting.
“Oh for God’s sake, what now?”
“No tool belt?”
“I don’t need a tool belt to change a light bulb.”
She looks serious for a second and then gives me a big smile and links her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s go to my bedroom.”
We stop in the back porch for a ladder and the bulbs. “Hey, what’s that smell?” I ask, my mouth watering.
“Lasagna. I thought I’d make you dinner since you came to help me. Can you stay?”
“Hell, yes! I’m starving.”
She stops and turns toward me. “You want to eat first?”
“If it’s ready.”
Only minutes later she’s served up the most amazing looking lasagna with salad. She pours us wine and then stops mid pour.
“I better not give you too much wine. You’re going to be on a ladder.”
“Oh, I’ll be okay. I can tolerate good wine. Besides, you can catch me if I fall.”
She winks at me and keeps pouring.
I’m on my second serving and she’s barely taken a bite.
“Hey, why aren’t you eating? This is so good. I had no idea you could cook like this.”
“I have all kinds of skills you don’t know about.”
I study her. She’s right. There’s a lot I don’t know about her.
“Well, tell me. What else are you good at?”
She runs her finger along the glass. “My career.”
“Tell me about what you do.”
“As a corporate event coordinator I oversee the planning and execution of events and conventions for my clients.”
“Sounds like a big deal,” I say.
“I think it is. My job is to be on top of every detail so that things run smoothly both leading up to and during the event.”
“I bet you do a great job.”
She smiles at me. “Well, I do take pride in being able to charm even the most difficult client.”
“Well, you have charm in spades, so I bet you’re good with clients. As for the running smoothly I’ll take your word for it. You certainly seem on top of things here.” I glance around the house and take in how well designed and maintained everything is. I like her taste; it’s sophisticated yet still feels comfortable.
She smiles broadly. “Thanks. I love the home I’ve created here. It’s really nice of you to notice.”
I shrug. “It would be hard to miss.”
“Oh believe me, my ex took all of that for granted.”
“And what did I say about him the first time we met?” I take a long sip of my wine while I see her expression shift from one of disappointment to glee.
“That he’s an idiot!”
“That’s right. So here’s to you, Elle. You’re an impressive woman.” I lift my glass and take in her smile.
Her eyes soften and as we click glasses I realize that she needs to hear this much more than I could’ve ever imagined. I make note. I may not be able to give her everything she wants from me, but I can give her that.
“Careful!” she calls out as I get higher on the ladder.
I regard her with an arched brow. “You drank more than I did.”
“That thing is deceptively heavy,” she warns, pointing at the hand-painted glass light fixture.
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty strong.” I hold one hand up against the glass dome as I unscrew the base with the other.
“Well if you’d dressed as I asked I would see all your muscles and how strong you are.”
“I’m plenty strong. And if this thing is that heavy, I hope you are too because I’m going to be handing it to you in a minute.”
“I’m super strong,” she replies with a grin.
When the screw is loose enough to drop into my hand I slowly pull the dome away from its base. Damn, she’s right. This sucker is heavy.
I hold it out toward her. “Ready?”
She bites her lip and reaches toward me. “Yes.” I ease the dome into her arms and she pulls it protectively to her chest before resting it on the bed, then offers a replacement bulb up to me.
“Screw it in tight,” she says with a grin.
“It’s the only way I screw.” I give her a sly smile.
While I replace the bulb I notice her step over to the side table where she’s left her glass. She takes several sips of wine. She seems a little buzzed.
“So this Stephan dude. Is he really that uptight about being clean or were you playing me?”
“No, he’s really that way.”
“So do you see a future with him?”
She scoffs. “It’s highly unlikely.”
“Then why bother?” I hand her down the burned out bulb.
“Why not?” she says. “He makes me feel great.”
I glance back up to focus on the work. Repositioning this dome back in place is much harder than it looks.
“Damn!”
“What?”
“I can’t get this heavy bastard aligned correctly.”
“I told you it was heavy.”
“You weren’t kidding. I’ve never seen a light with glass this thick. What the hell?”
“Believe me, if I could’ve done this myself I would.”
I peer down at her. I can tell she means it. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I’m surprised you sleep with this thing looming over you as it is. A lot of people would be in a state of terror every night. I mean what if the thing fell? It’d be certain death.”
“I like the thrill of uncertainty, and besides, I love the Venetian design.”
I roll my eyes.
She loves the design
. She won’t love it so much when it splits her head open.
I finally get the base screwed in and carefully pull my hands away to make sure it stays firm. I let out my breath when it remains in place, and I test it with a few attempts to jiggle it. It’s solid.
On the way back down the ladder I glance at Elle and realize I can see down her shirt. A real gentleman would turn away, but instead I lean forward to improve the angle of my view. Her breasts are noteworthy. I’d love to have my hands full of them.
I crane my neck out. My forward sway causes me to lose balance and a feeling of doom engulfs me. I’m going down.
A millisecond later she grabs me from behind. Her arms are wrapped around my thighs and her face pressed against my lower back.
“Whoa!” she exclaims.
I take a sharp breath as I grab onto the ladder and steady myself. When I’m finally down on the floor I turn toward her.
“Thanks.”
She looks up at me, and smiles. “Any time.”
I trace my finger under her chin as she gazes at me. Have I ever fully noticed how beautiful her big blue eyes are?
This woman.
“What?” She tips her head to the side.
“What do you mean
what
?”
“You look like you want to kiss me.”
“Hmmm.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
She wants me to cave in and break my promise to myself, but then what? I share her with Mr. Clean and the Tinder Posse? That’s not the relationship with the future mate I’ve been waiting for.
I pinch the ends of a lock of her hair between my fingers. “I don’t want to kiss you.”
“Are you sure?”
I stare at her lips. They are exquisitely, infinitely kissable. Of course I want to kiss her but I can’t tell her that.
“Yup.”
She inches closer to me, her breasts skimming my chest. I can feel the heat shimmer off her. “Really sure?”
I swallow hard. I stare at her as she waits for my response, and realize this is a defining moment between us. Am I going to surrender to my lust and accept from her what it is I really want? I can picture fucking her so vividly. I can even hear her moaning in my head. How bad would it really be for us to just own it and go at it until we’re satisfied? But would we ever really be satisfied or would it just be the beginning of my downward spiral into my obsessive ways?
My weakness fills me with shame and I turn away.
I notice her blinking rapidly as my rejection hits her. She’s out the bedroom door before I can even say anything. I find her in the kitchen.
“Elle?”
She’s taking the lasagna pan out of the refrigerator. She ignores me as she pulls out one of those plastic food storage things and slides several pieces of lasagna inside. The room is silent other than the popping sound of the top closing over the bottom of the container. She pushes the full plastic box toward me.
I clear my throat loudly and when she looks up I gesture toward her bedroom. “Hey, about what just happened.”
“Nothing happened.” There’s no tone or inflection in her voice.
“Look—”
She cuts me off. “So something’s just hit me, Paul.”
Stepping up to the kitchen island where she’s working, I tighten my fingers over the edge of the honed marble top.
“And . . .”
“I hate being rejected. Rejection makes me sad. And I lived through an entire marriage being rejected. So I really don’t need it from you.”
“I understand. I’m sorry I make you sad.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“I’ll leave now if you want me to.”
She nods. “Yeah, maybe you should.”
I feel unbelievably bad. I’m such an asshole. She deserves better.
“Okay. If that’s what you want.” I pick up my jacket. “Thanks for dinner.”
She points to the box. “That’s for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. You really seemed to like it.”
“I did. I like your lasagna a lot.”
She gives me a tiny smile.
“And I like you a lot.”
She arches her brow. “You like me? So what, you want to be friends?”
I nod.
“With no benefits?”
I shrug. “Yeah.”
She shakes her head and laughs. “What am I going to do with you? Well, let me think about that, okay?”
I smile. “Yeah. And I’m going to bring this plastic thing back when I’ve eaten all of this and make you laugh again.”
“And while you’re at it, bring my book back.”
“
Torched
? Did that book really get you off? I mean, that shit was crazy. Who talks like that in bed?”
“It totally got me off, and it will again as soon as you bring it back here.”
“Can you tell me what man speaks entire sentences when he’s fucking a hot woman?”
“Well apparently you don’t. But I’ll never know that for sure.” She winks at me and leads me to the hall. We’re almost to the front door when her doorbell rings.
“Expecting more company?” I ask.
She looks at me with wide eyes. “No.” She peeks out the door viewer and jumps back. “It’s Stephan! I thought he wasn’t coming tonight.”
“You want me to sneak out the back door?”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll introduce you. You can judge him for yourself.”
She opens the door. “Stephan!” she says like she’s thrilled to see him. She gives him a big hug. “I thought you said you weren’t coming!”
“I couldn’t stay away.”
She pulls the door open wider and when he comes in he looks up and our eyes meet. He’s taller than me and thinner. He’s blond and looks like an underfed Viking.
At least he’s not wearing a wifebeater and worn jeans. That would piss me off. Instead he’s wearing a black turtleneck.
Poser.
I wonder if he smokes a pipe.
I raise my hand in greeting. “Hey Stephan. I’m Paul. Elle’s told me all about you.”
She smiles and nods as he studies her. “Has she now?”
“Paul’s a friend of mine.”
“A
good
friend of hers,” I add.
“Really?” His gaze darts back and forth between us like he doesn’t know what to make of us.
“Yes, matter of fact I had an electrical problem and Paul came by to fix it for me.”