“You don’t look like you’re doing one.”
Elsie swatted at Lexi’s words like she might an irritating housefly. “I’ll fill it in later. I don’t want to move my head. Might make your task more difficult.”
“You’ve filled it in every other time.”
“I know, and do you know what Gladys said about my hair?”
Lexi choked back a laugh. “Suit yourself,” she said.
Elsie remained uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments before asking, “Is my grandson giving you a hard time?”
Lexi had to look at the woman before answering, because there was absolutely no telling what the actual question was. Knowing Elsie, it was more likely to be a sexual innuendo than a straightforward question, but either way, the answer was the same. “No, but I feel like I’m in his way.”
“You’re fifty feet closer than you were last week. Hardly a nuisance.”
“Tell that to his date. She was pretty disappointed to realize when she saw me there that he hadn’t invited her over early for dessert.”
Elsie put down her book. “He invited a woman over when you were there?”
Oh, boy. What had Lexi started? “Well, he knew I was going out. I think he was just curious.”
Elsie harrumphed. “Nosy is what he was. So you were…meeting a friend?”
“A friend picked me up.” Inwardly, Lexi groaned. This conversation would definitely get back to Matt, and she had no clue how it would sound in translation.
“Interesting timing,” Elsie mused.
“Not really. He just wanted to…interfere.”
“Does he normally interfere by parading his girlfriends in your face?”
“Well that would imply he’d actually been in a relationship, so no. But also no, he doesn’t make a point of introducing me.” The memory made her cringe the way an embarrassing moment might, and she wasn’t sure why. It couldn’t have been because of Carla herself. Lexi had seen Matt at dozens of fire department and community events, always surrounded by women, and she’d never thought anything of it. Last night was probably the first time she’d seen him in a more intimate setting, and while he’d been too busy sticking his nose in her business to flaunt the absolute sexiness of his date, the whole he’s with her thing seemed to be stuck in Lexi’s head. On repeat. Which, frankly, she found annoying. She’d met a decent guy right out of the gate, and yet she couldn’t get her mind off Matt. New and exciting prospect versus the guy whose underwear she’d been washing for the better part of a decade. That was no toss-up.
“Are you flushed?” Elsie asked, studying her in the mirror.
“It, um, it is a little warm in here,” Lexi fibbed.
“Yes.” Elsie patted the back of her hair, knocking away Lexi’s hand. Lexi hadn’t done much, but as usual, Elsie checked herself out in the mirror and declared the session a success. “Can you help me with my dress?”
“Of course,” Lexi said.
Elsie, as she was prone to do, dropped her housecoat and reached for the dress hanging on the back of the door. Naked grandma. Lexi immediately noticed a bandage covering an inflamed area on her shoulder. “What happened?” she asked, peering more closely. Lexi was genuinely concerned, but it also gave her something to look at—something, that was, other than an eighty-five-year-old woman in thong underwear.
Elsie swatted her away. “I’m fine. It’s a fresh tattoo.”
Lexi blinked. Twice. “You got a tattoo?”
“Yep.” Elsie beamed. “Handcuffs. I wanted that bald fellow from that FBI show but the artist said my skin might be a bit too thin—”
Lexi immediately flashed to Elsie’s Derek Morgan obsession. “Shemar Moore? You wanted a tattoo of Shemar Moore? You can’t even see it back there.”
Elsie waved a dismissive hand. “Honey, if I can’t ride around on his back, he might as well ride around on mine.”
Lexi held back a laugh. “Too bad you had to get something else,” she said as she helped Elsie into her dress.
Elsie patted her hand. “Nah. Might spark some creativity in one of these old geezers around here. And you. Give Matt hell. That boy could use some shaking up.”
“Yes ma’am.” Lexi didn’t have a clue what Elsie meant by that, but she’d learned long ago to go with her flow. In that spirit, she gathered her stuff and headed for the door, but before she made it through, Elsie touched her arm.
“Hell is one thing,” she said somberly. “So is the shaking. But I meant what I said before.”
“What’s that?” Lexi asked.
“Don’t make him eat your cooking.”
Chapter Seven
By the next afternoon, Lexi had begun to think Matt was avoiding her. She’d seen more of him when she hadn’t lived there. Part of her was okay with not facing this static between them, but whether or not they dealt with it, it existed, and that bothered her. This was exactly why she’d hesitated to stay with him, and 100 percent what he promised wouldn’t happen. But that wasn’t the worst part.
The worst part was that she couldn’t stop seeing that shirt stretched across his chest, or that look in his eyes when he’d watched her walk into his living room before her date with Dave. She did not remember a day without Matt in her life, yet she’d never seen him look so haunted. Over and over she sought the meaning of that, all the while knowing she’d probably just had toilet paper stuck to her shoe and he couldn’t be bothered to spare her the embarrassment.
But that assumption didn’t explain why she couldn’t stop seeing his face. At least in her head, because it seemed to have disappeared from her reality. And it definitely didn’t explain why she wanted to see his face, to see him smile at her and give her back that feeling that things were normal between them.
Then maybe those stupid unsettled butterflies would be set free.
She’d seen attractive men before. And she’d seen Matt for years without falling all over him, so this ridiculousness could just quit.
Matt was off that day, so she didn’t have to worry about running into him at the station, but she did see Diego. He pulled few punches with the guys but was the ultimate gentleman away from the antics of the group. Nevertheless, her stomach dropped, which didn’t seem fair. Matt was ruining everything. But she didn’t have to make it easy for him.
“Hey, Diego,” she said brightly.
“Uh-oh,” he said, sizing her up almost warily, though he’d never been anything less than genuine. “What’s wrong?”
“I should ask you that. You’re in on your day off.” Like, with the sweat-soaked shirt and gym towel, it wasn’t obvious why he was there. Several of the firefighters visited the weight room regularly, whether or not they were on duty, and her attempt at conversation was so painfully forced that she was tempted to walk out and pretend it hadn’t happened.
Why did she feel the need to resort to small talk with her close friends? When his marriage had fallen apart, she’d spent hours with him, just being there while he figured out how to knit the pieces together. Things hadn’t been awkward then, and Matt had been fine—even when she’d spent the night with Diego on the sofa, watching movies and ordering midnight takeout and talking.
“Just using the weight room,” Diego said. “You’re early and speaking to me in an unnaturally high voice. What’s wrong?”
Everything. “Nothing that won’t eventually go away.”
“Sounds like the same thing that’s getting to Matt,” he said with a laugh.
She paused, leaning back against the cool, painted cinderblock wall. “Really?”
Diego hedged a bit before he spoke, which she found intriguing. “Let’s just say he’s been in a mood,” he said.
“We can’t possibly say more than that?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
“Not a chance. It’s a bro code situation.”
Sh
e feigned insult. “And I thought we were friends.”
“What I can tell you,” Diego said, “is that your cop is a good dude.” He stopped to listen as dispatch came over the intercom, but it wasn’t for their station. “I’ve seen him around.”
She waited for him to say something else. The but or the catch. But he didn’t. “That’s it? He’s a good dude?”
“Isn’t that enough?” He let the words sink in.
And then she got it.
It really wasn’t.
Leave it to Diego to take Matt’s side without mentioning his name. While complimenting the other man.
The grin that slowly spread on Diego’s face told her that the answer was all over her face. “You’re on the clock, so I’ll see you later, Lex.”
She caught his arm. “You’re looking good,” she said softly. “It’s great to see you smile again.” His divorce had been nasty, and he hadn’t deserved it. When it came to good dudes, Diego was the best.
“Long road,” he told her. “No end in sight, but the turns are getting a little easier to handle.”
“You should consider joining that dating site,” she said. “I’m kind of one for one, so the odds aren’t bad.”
“I’ll think about it.” He blotted his face with the towel. “Yeah, maybe.”
She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, swearing he’d turned a sweatier shade of red. “You do that.” She touched his arm, then nodded a greeting to two other guys from the shift on call before heading back into the garage to drown herself in her work, like hanging out in a firehouse had any chance of distracting her from a fireman.
By that evening, she’d determined that to be impossible—a situation not helped when she heard the door slam. Had to be Matt. Lexi had every intention of ignoring him, but she was in his house, parked on his sofa. And if that wasn’t reason enough, the smell of fresh-baked bread beat him into the room. Just her luck, she was staring at the doorway, a literal amount of drool on her chin when he appeared.
“I brought food,” he said needlessly. His gaze skated to the television screen, then back to her. “Watching something?”
“A movie.” He wasn’t the only one capable of stating the obvious.
“Anything I’d like?”
“Did you bring subs?” she asked, eyeing the bag in his hand. There was no point in answering his question. As far as she knew, he’d never liked anything she’d ever watched. She’d venture that their respective Netflix profiles had approximately zero shows, interests, or suggestions in common.
He ignored the question. “What is this?”
“I told you, a movie.”
He reached over and took the remote, cueing up the title. “Friends with Benefits?” Laughter followed.
She snatched the bag from him and, after a split-second effort to determine which had been toasted, pulled out her sub. He never asked what she wanted…he just knew what she liked. She unwrapped the sandwich, finding turkey with mayo, cucumbers, and black olives. Her stomach rumbled while she stared at him, grateful for the food and hoping against hope that she’d find an olive branch somewhere in that bag.
Only, knowing Matt, if he’d thought of that there’d be an actual branch in there. From a real tree. Probably with a spider attached.
He plopped on the sofa right next to her and observed the television an entire thirty seconds before asking, “Why do you watch this crap? I mean, if you want ‘benefits,’ all you have to do is ask.”
Her breath seized. So much for normal. He’d thrown in that offer almost awkwardly, like he’d spent all day thinking of a way to say it. There had never even been mention of sex between them—joking or otherwise—and then things were weird, and then he shows up with a foot-long? Was he always this cocky? She tried to imagine him whispering to a woman that he wanted her. The promise of that confession, the heat, Matt, sinking so softly and sweetly inside of…someone else. Because that wasn’t them.
That wasn’t him.
Because he didn’t chase sweetness, and judging by the routine of his love life, forever was just another F-word. He’d already had a lifetime with her. If he’d ever been interested in her, he could have had his shot. Mentioning sex while she was trying to get on with her life wasn’t fair, no matter how much of the past couple of days she’d spent wishing she could think about anything else. Whatever swirled around them, he was still her friend, and she needed him to stay that way. Anything beyond that was off the table.
She swallowed, forcing down that misspent longing, and said, “Wow, that’s pretty drastic to offer yourself up in sacrifice.”
“Pfft.” Matt scoffed. Then, “They don’t call us heroes for nothing.”
She rolled her eyes, still distracted by his offer of benefits. She knew better than to take him seriously, but that didn’t stop her from squirming over the thought. Literally squirming, she realized, as she shifted away from him, avoiding the singe of heat where his body touched hers.
“I guess not every woman finds that trait irresistible. Because if I recall correctly, you lost two women at the bar,” she reminded him. “And believe it or not, this has nothing to do with you.”
He glanced toward Waffles, who had lumbered in after Matt and now warily eyed some food Lexi had left in a bowl for him. “Ah, back to Dave the cop who had to leave early?”
That again. “Why are you so convinced I can’t get a guy to want me?”
At her harsh tone, surprise registered on his face. “I didn’t—”
“No, I’m serious.” Serious almost to the point of angry. Who did he think he was? “How much of a troll am I if you think I can’t find a single guy who would go out with me?”
He didn’t answer for a long, embarrassing moment. Then he said, “You’re beautiful, Lexi.” And just before she could almost swoon over the abject sincerity on his face, he added, “But you know how you are in the kitchen, and eventually a guy is going to get hungry.”
She shoved her foot in his direction, and his attempt at dodging it left him leaning over her. On the sofa. They both stilled in the same moment.
Her breath caught.
Exactly the reason she needed to get a life that did not revolve around a platonic relationship with her neighbor.
She wiggled out from under him, her inability to breathe having nothing to do with the very small effort of escaping him. “I don’t know why there can’t be more men like that,” she said, nodding toward the screen and pointedly ignoring his confusion.
He watched for a moment before responding. “They’re about to sleep together and that woman just said No emotions, just sex, and now he guesses they should just start. Is this really your goal? Because I can assure you there are plenty of men like that.”
“You’re missing the point.” She didn’t exactly address whether he was one of those men. He sure seemed to be one with everyone else, and she definitely didn’t want him to be with her, so there wasn’t a useful direction for that conversation, though she hated not making a point when she had one.
And he didn’t seem interested in hearing it. “Damn right I’m missing the point. You’re parading your relationship eligibility to the entire town—”
“Hardly.” Was he being ridiculous on purpose? He had to be.
He met her eyes. “And telling me you just want sex?”
Exasperated, she almost threw her sub at him. As close as he was, though, it probably would have just ricocheted off him and hit her in the face. “You know I want a relationship. I very specifically did not tell you I just wanted sex.”
“Why would you specifically not want sex?”
“I didn’t say…never mind.” Her frustration was only half legit. The relief that they’d edged into familiar, comfortable territory was by far her prevailing emotion, but that didn’t make this any less difficult. It only made clear the revelation that she kind of l
iked him that way, which was really annoying.
“None of those lines would ever work in real life,” he said, his attention back on the movie. “That guy is a joke. Do you really think if all a guy had to do was request strings-free sex to get sex that there’d be a single virgin over the age of eighteen out there?”
“Yeah, there would be, because some guys have standards.”
He gave her a sideways look before glancing back at the television. “Not many guys who aren’t getting sex and actually want sex are going to have standards so high that they refuse sex. If this is your idea of research, may I suggest you upgrade to The Onion or another one of those fine fake news sites? More valuable information there.”
Sometimes she really hated his smug, horribly attractive face. “Why do you need to belittle everything I do? First the dating site, then the movie.”
“You deserve someone who can do better than that,” he said, with a nod toward the screen. “I could do better right now. On you.”
She gaped, probably inelegantly, but had he lost his mind? “You really think you can warn me that you’re going to verbally swindle me immediately before actually doing it and I’ll fall for it?”
“No, and that’s my point. That stuff in the movies is hokey. No one in real life falls for that.”
He took a bite of his sub and she watched him chew, momentarily distracted by the line of his jaw. Wondering a beat too long about how it might feel beneath her fingertips and why she didn’t just go lock herself in her borrowed bedroom before she made a move to find out. She’d probably made some kind of physical contact with him almost every day of her life, but her brain chose this moment to obsess over the side of his freaking head? “Did you just say hokey?” she asked after he’d swallowed. “And can I correct you right now about being on me?”
His brow notched upward. “Are you saying you want me on you? Is that the correction you had in mind?”
She looked to the ceiling. Finding no help there, she sighed. “Yes, Matt. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Actually, all you’ve ever wanted is the kind of relationship your parents have.” He hesitated, something cloudy in his eyes, but before she could decipher it, it was gone.
Finding Mr. Right Next Door Page 6
