Lady Parts

by Loren

  “Annnndddd you don’t have any candles, flashlights or anything?”

  “No. If you haven’t noticed, I kinda just moved in,” he said.

  “So, what have you been doing in that week? Hiding out? Why haven’t I seen you?” Her eyes squinted with accusations.

  His face twitched, but then he smirked. “Repairs.”

  “You?” she said unbelievingly. She hadn’t seen any construction workers around or heard any noise. She would have remembered that, unless he was working while she was at the garage.

  “Yes. There’s still a lot to be done, and stuff can get expensive fast. So, I’ve been doing most of it myself. It’s slow moving since I don’t have any help.” Well she chalked out him having a roommate. At least one of the male variety.

  Gene scoffed. “Okay, no offense, but you don’t seem like the kind of guy who knows what to do with his hands.” Gene looked down at his hands, and even though they were at his side, she couldn’t imagine they were coarse or had calluses. With his car and that attitude, he had to be one of those rich boys who hired people to do the work for him.

  Liam walked towards her, slowly with his hands at his side, seeming as unthreatening as possible until he was standing right in front of her. He leaned down a little to make better eye contact as he said, “I take offense to that, and one day I would love to show you just how wrong you are. I know how to do a lot with my hands.”

  Gene could see in his eyes just how much he meant that. Her skin flushed, and she wanted to mace him on principle but refrained. Thankfully, he stepped back.

  She was completely off center, and she tried to think of a way to get back the moral ground.

  “Can I get a towel or something? I’m dripping all over your hardwood, and I’d kinda like to be dry,” he said, grimacing as he pulled his soaked shirt from his chest.

  Gene nodded and turned towards the stairs. She was about to ascend before she turned back to him with a finger raised. “Don’t move. Don’t touch anything. Don’t look suspicious. Don’t be a serial killer. Just don’t. You stay right there, and I will bring you a towel. If you move, if you follow me, if you think about following me. I will mace you. I will hit you with a bat. I will make you regret following a woman into her home and violating it before I call the police and make sure they put you away for a very long time,” she said with a murderous look in her eye.

  Despite how deadly she knew she sounded, he had the nerve to chuckle.

  “And if you managed to do all that, how might you keep me until the police arrived?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, causing the muscles in his arms to bulge. To anyone else, he might seem imposing, but she wasn’t afraid.

  Standing on one stair allowed her to be almost eye level with him. “I have enough handcuffs in this place to hold a bull down,” she said before turning and walking up the rest of the stairs. Let him think what he wanted about that. She was bluffing but he wasn’t going to call her on it.

  The linen closet was in the hallway, and as she walked, she realized she was supposed to be getting him candles, not towels. She wouldn’t need to get towels if she hadn’t been standing there giving him the third degree. She didn’t want to get them now, but she couldn’t return empty handed. She sighed as she grabbed the first towel she saw and the matching face towel before descending the stairs.

  Liam was right where she left him, and she was glad he had enough sense not to test her. “Here,” she said, holding up the towels.

  He took the towels first and started with his hair, drying off but giving her a free show as his arms flexed. When he finished, his hair looked like he’d just had sex and she hoped he didn’t smooth it down. It made him look less boardroom, more badass biker and she liked it.

  “So do you have any candles? I don’t have anything over there. Just a little furniture, clothes, and toolkits,” he said before pulling his shirt from his chest to ring out as much water as he could without taking it off. “By the way, whatever that is, smells great,” he said.

  “Lasagna,” Gene said, trying to make her response as short as possible because she did not want him to think she might be inviting him in for dinner. “Stay right there, and I will get those candles.”

  She walked towards the kitchen where she kept the candles, and he followed, ignoring what she just said.

  “Did I interrupt something?” he said, taking in the candles she already had lit on the table. She could see why he would say that. It did look rather romantic. Two lit candles and her glass of wine.

  “No,” she said, turning back around to grab three candles. “Just me romancing myself,” she said, closing the drawer to open the one full of lighters and matches.

  She turned at the sound of rustling aluminum. “Could you not?”

  He peeked at her masterpiece before putting the aluminum back. “It looks good too.”

  “Don’t go getting any ideas,” she said, stopping herself from swatting at him and shooing him out of her kitchen.

  He took her extended gifts of candles and matches with a frown. “Jeez, sorry. Excuse me for acknowledging that real food smells delicious. I haven’t eaten yet, and all I’ve been living off is takeout these past few weeks.”

  His confession was sad, so sad and pitiful that Gene found herself scowling.

  “You are the only person I know who doesn’t like a compliment,” he said, looking at her with wild concern.

  “I am trying to keep from saying something I don’t want to say,” she said still scowling as she mentally assessed how much wine she had left in the bottle and if she had drunk straight from the bottle when she opened it.

  “Well, then don’t say it,” he said with amusement.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked from behind clenched teeth.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, are you going to hold that canister of mace the entire time?”

  She sighed and set it on the edge of the table. “Fine. I have your full name, contact information, and several eyewitnesses that saw you at the garage. If you turn out to be crazy, you will regret it.”

  “I will regret it,” he agreed and nodded. “But I will also regret ruining my friendly neighbor’s chairs with my wet clothes.”

  She sighed. “You are very needy. I’ll get you’re a robe or something.”

  She ran upstairs to her bedroom closet where three robes hung. One was her summer robe, one was a robe she never wore and the other was her sexy robe, silk and a little too short to cover anything. She grabbed the one she never wore. It was huge, too big for her, but comfy when she felt like drowning in warmth.

  “Here,” she said handing him the big white thing. “It’s too big for me so it might be a little too small for you but it will do the job of keeping you dry and warm.”

  “Thanks,” he said putting the robe over the back on the chair before beginning to strip.

  He grabbed the wet neckline of the shirt and pulled, straining his muscles against the wet suction of the material before his hard abs and chiseled chest appeared.

  “Jesus,” Gene whispered, thankful the rain was a soundtrack playing too loud for her lust to be heard.

  She continued to stare as he put his hands on his hips. She kept waiting, looking at him, wondering why he hadn’t pulled his pants down yet, before looking up to see him watching her and struggling not to laugh.

  “Um, if you wouldn’t mind turning around,” he said.

  “Don’t tell me you’re shy,” she grumbled as she reluctantly turned around. She didn’t like having her back to a stranger, but she preferred it to having a stranger upstairs since she didn’t have a bathroom on the first floor.

  “Okay,” he said, and she turned to find him in a white robe that was just right. It was tight like she predicted and came to his knees but it did the job. “Thanks,” he said, balling his clothes up and bending to dry the floor. It was the equivalent of a wet mop, pushing the water around more.

  “Give me those,” she said, holding
out her hand. “I’ll put them on the shower rod so they can dry.”

  Again she ran upstairs before returning to find he was already sitting in the chair directly across from her with a smug look. She didn’t want to see it, so she turned her back to grab him a plate, utensils, and glass. “Do you drink wine?”

  “Are you a mechanic?” he said matter-of-factly.

  “I guess that’s a yes then,” she said dryly as she opened the cabinet for another glass.

  She handed it to him, and he smiled. “This is nice,” he said.

  “Keep talking, and I’m going to kick you back out into the rain without lasagna and wine,” she said, arching an eyebrow to make sure he understood.

  “Sorry,” he said, looking suitably chastised before he added, “I’ll be a good boy.”

  Gene wanted to slap herself for kind of liking it. He was sexist and an ass! She would have to try to remember that.

  3

  Dinner was like walking on a tightrope thirty-feet in the air. Every instinct and need screamed for attention. Between Gene’s raging libido and her hungry stomach, she didn’t know where to look, what to say, or what to do. She had never had a man in this house. Everything about this situation was bad. The romantic lighting, the crazy rain outside that made her feel like there was no one in the world but them, and the sexy man across her table, looking like he would love to devour her if she let him. He hadn’t looked at her that way before, she wondered what changed. No, reprimanded herself. She didn’t care what changed. She did not want to be with him. She knew nothing about him except that he was rude. That was all she needed to know. Plus, he was her next-door neighbor, which screamed conflict of interest but goddamn he knew how to raise her blood pressure. It had only been thirty minutes, but he seemed intent on teasing her.

  “You know, usually I have to buy dinner before we get to this stage of things,” he said and even though her smile was dying to peek through she kept it hidden.

  “Eat your food,” she said but when he put his napkin over his lap she smirked.

  “This is amazing,” he moaned as he chewed the first bite of lasagna. She felt the sound right in between her legs.

  Still recovering from that sexy sound, she said, “Thanks. I’ll give your compliments to the chef.”

  “You didn’t make this?” he said taking another huge bite.

  “Sure, I did. I set the oven and put it in the pan.”

  He chuckled. “So you didn’t make it.”

  Gene shrugged instead of agreeing. “I had help.”

  Liam paused to sip his wine. “Who am I to judge? I wouldn’t be a pancake expert without Hungry Jack Mix.” So he got the joke.

  “My mom used to say she thanked all the Mrses.”

  “Misses?”

  “Yeah, Mrs. Butterworth, Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Paul.”

  “Hey, nothing wrong with that. I bet my mom had a lot of their help too.”

  Gene doubted that but she nodded anyways. They fell into an awkward silence. She didn’t know how to do small talk. She hated the question and answering portion of getting to know someone and the expectation that they were actually listening or squirreling whatever she said away somewhere. Or the arbitrary questions of the weather and other things that she didn’t care about.

  “Where’d you get this robe from? Don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t think it’s my size,” he said crossing his legs so it slid up his legs stopping midthigh. “And, I don’t think your initials are MGM,” he said pointing to the italicized letters on the breast.

  “I may have stolen it from MGM Grand.” She tried to say it as nonchalant as possible but he jerked forward.

  “You what? Oh Gene, I never would have pegged you as the ninja thief kind of girl.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” she said shrugging one shoulder.

  “Oh no, no, no. Don’t do that. I smell a story here and I want to hear it. Come on. Don’t hold back on me.”

  “It just ended up in my suitcase,” she said putting another bite of food in her mouth.

  “Oh really? This huge thing? I’m sure you had space for it,” he said rolling his eyes. “Tell me how does a robe you don’t own fit into a suitcase by accident?”

  “It was …. A dare.”

  He gasped and put his hand to his chest. “Gene. I had no idea you were such a dare devil.”

  “I’m not,” she said a little too emphatically.

  “Then how did it happen?”

  She sighed. “It all started with a girls trip to Las Vegas.”

  “Oh, I knew there was a story here.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

  “Shut up,” she said knowing she had to tell the story in full now. “We were playing roulette and I was on a roll. I mean I was unbeatable. Like I couldn’t be stopped and then Ginger, one of my best friends,” she said quickly, “just had to make it even riskier by adding a bet on top of my bet.”

  “She sounds like my kind of girl,” Liam said and even though Gene knew he was joking, it annoyed her to think of Liam talking to Ginger and not her.

  “Yeah, well, talk to her at your own risk. Ginger may be beautiful and one of the smartest women I know but we call her Hot Top for a reason. She’s the fire one of our friend squad. But anyways, Ginger said if I lost my bet, I had to steal something. I wasn’t going to take it. I mean I had already won a thousand dollars on a ten-dollar bet. I was going to cash out all my winnings and go home but my girls convinced me I could do it. Even Sheila who is completely risk adverse said do it. So what do I do? I take the bet and I know you can guess what happened then.” She waved her hand in the air for him to say what happened.

  “You lost the bet.”

  “I lost the bet. I lost the freaking bet and everyone at the table groaned. I mean it was ugly. I had won ten times in a row and I should have left it alone, but I took Ginger up on her goading and after ten years of friendship, you’d think I’d know better by now but I didn’t.” Gene realized she was nervous rambling and wrapped it up. “I took her up on it and lost and since I’m not a sore loser and I am a woman of my word, that robe is the result.”

  “Wow.” She hoped he would say more than that. “So that’s a recovering gambler and a grand theft specialist, I might need to commit a few felonies to keep up with you.”

  She laughed even though it was at her expense. “Shut up.” She was a sucker for a guy that could make her laugh.

  He sipped some of his wine. “Well it was worth it. You know how they say everything happens for a reason, whoever they are,” he said his lips pressing into a thin line, “but this time, I’m grateful since it kept me from being cold and wet while enjoying an amazing dinner with you.”

  Her heart raced, why was he being so romantic? Why were his eyes so intense? Maybe it was the gleam of the candles. Guys like him didn’t notice girls like her. What was happening right now?

  “So was grand theft auto one of those felonies too? You’re a mechanic. I’m sure you know your way around cars.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Nope. No criminal charges over here.”

  “So how did you get into it? Cars I mean. I don’t know too many girls who want to be mechanics when they grow up.”

  She pushed the little bit of food she had on her plate around unsure what to say. Somehow going with her typical, ‘I like cars’ reason didn’t sound right. “Do you really want to know?”

  She glanced up to see him lean forward and pierce her guarded heart with a stare. “I do.”

  “I didn’t choose cars at first. At first, I was in college studying to become an automotive engineer. I did that for a while but … it just didn’t feel right. I was unhappy and my granny Deb, she’s a saint and a hellion, trust me, but I wouldn’t change her for the world. She saw I wasn’t happy and convinced me to do what my heart was telling me to do. So I became a mechanic.

  “She sounds like a great woman.”

  “She is. She’s also free as a bird and the coolest gran
dma you could ever want. She always told me I should follow my heart and never settle for less. Unlike most grown-ups in my life, she actually lives by example. So I believed her when she said to follow my heart. It was the best decision of my life.”

  “That’s amazing. I’m doing something like that right now.”

  She was happy to take the spotlight off herself. “Oh yeah? How?”

  “By working on these houses. I mean, construction wasn’t my first choice when I was mapping out my life but creating something from scratch and knowing a person is going to live in it is … just. Wow. I mean it changes how you view the world.” He chuckled. “It’s not saving a life or putting out fires or anything but it’s …”

  “It’s your passion.”

  He smiled softly, and Gene felt her heart clench, knowing how good it felt to be understood. “So if you need any DIY tips or have a wall you were thinking of tearing down for extra space, I’m your guy. In fact, you should come over sometime. Check out the place. It looks very different from when I started and it’s going to look different when it’s finished but you should see what I’m working on.”

  She didn’t need any reason for him to get any closer than he already was. This dinner had been more than she meant to do. “Thanks,” she said pushing her hair behind her ears. “But I can’t. I’m sure it’s beautiful though.”

  “It is,” he said eating the last bite of his food.

  She cleared her throat. “So um what’s your best DIY tip for house.

  “Dish soap can unclog a toilet.”

  She laughed an uncontrollable sound before covering her mouth. “I’m sorry. I just hadn’t expected you to say that.” She reached for more wine but her glass was empty.

  His eyes were lit with laughter too. “What can I say? I’m an unexpecting kind of guy.”

  They sat smiling at each other. Gene broke first. “Um I hope you didn’t want seconds. I think it’s cold now,” she said standing to grab the pan.

  “I’m good,” he said, standing with his dirty dishes. “Thanks for dinner.”