by Karen Booth
“Jenna.” She smiled.
“I know. I heard your coworker saying good night to you. You’re not the only one who eavesdrops.”
Her cheeks flushed a warm shade of pink, stirring something deep within his belly. “Well, I’m sorry you had to spend your free time playing bouncer on my behalf.” She flipped off the switches on the espresso machine. “I really am about to close up. Can I get you anything else?”
“I’m good.” He watched as she swiped a cloth over the streaks on the display case. She disappeared into the back and returned a moment later wearing a denim jacket and carrying an enormous black messenger bag.
Her brow furrowed as she looked at him. “So who are Bill and Crystal?”
Tim chuckled. “Bill,” he pointed to the spindle-pierced stack of receipts next to the register, “and Crystal.” He pinged his finger against the cut-glass tip jar.
“Clever.”
“I do my best work under pressure.” Tim fastened the plastic lid onto his tea then held the door for her. She pulled the metal accordion gate shut and fastened a padlock through the loop.
Her skin looked even more luminous under the glow of the streetlights. With her standing right next to him, he noticed how tiny she was, nearly a foot shorter than him. “I think I should see you home. In case Bagel Boy is lurking nearby.”
Jenna let out a breathy laugh. “That’s totally not necessary.”
“No, I insist. I’ve got a mum and two older sisters back in London and they’d never let me hear the end of it if they knew I let you walk home alone after some wanker hassled you.”
“So you plan on doing this every day?” She looked him up and down and he realized she might be assessing how safe it was to let him, a total stranger, walk her home.
He raised an eyebrow as he awaited her appraisal. “If necessary.”
“It’s ten blocks,” she said.
“That’ll be a new ten blocks of New York I get to see then.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I haven’t even been here twenty-four hours yet, and I managed to spend most of that eating, sleeping and getting sacked, so there’s not been much sightseeing.”
“Well, I don’t think you’re going to see any sights on this walk, but I can point out a few places to eat that serve more than coffee and pastries.”
Letting Tim walk her home might not be the smartest thing she’d ever done. But something about him made her want to trust him—maybe it was the chivalrous act back at the café or maybe she was being a little too lax with her rules. Never let a strange guy walk you home.
Their eyes connected for an instant as they waited for the light and a breeze whipped around the corner of the building. She watched as Tim’s shoulders bunched up to his ears.
“You really need to wear a jacket this time of year. Especially at night.” She shifted her messenger bag behind her as they crossed the street.
“I’m going to have to pick something up. I packed like a bloody git.”
She smiled wide but turned away. She loved his adorable British slang, which elevated him far beyond cute.
“This market is better than the bodega by the coffee shop,” she said, pointing to a Korean grocery with an abundance of produce and flowers displayed out front. They turned the corner. “And that Russian deli has the best pierogies.”
“Thanks so much for all these tips. I’m sure I seem completely helpless.”
“No, you don’t. You’re in a strange place.” They walked another half block and she came to a halt in front of a 24-hour Duane Reade drug store. “Do you mind if we stop? I need to pick up a few things. My roommate is always using my stuff and she never replaces anything.”
He glanced up at the sign. “Brilliant. They only let you bring a thimbleful of shampoo on the bloody airplane.”
Jenna walked with purpose, knowing exactly which parts of the store she needed to go to, but quickly learned that Tim was on a different schedule. He’d hardly made it into the hair care aisle before he started picking up items and loading them into his arms.
She traipsed back to him, fighting a smile. Even in the obnoxious fluorescent lights of the store, he was heartbreaking—a good twenty-four hours of stubble dotting his strong jaw and extending along the contours of his neck. “I thought you were only here eight weeks,” she said, nodding at the array of products in his hands.
“Yeah, well.” He twisted his lips. “I like to take care of my hair. Something my sisters taught me.”
She caught herself staring at his gorgeous, thick locks. I’d love to dig a hand in there sometime. “I think we’re going to need a basket.”
“I can manage that. I’ll find you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You sure? You might get lost.”
“You can lead the search party.”
She watched him walk away and stole more than a passing glance at his butt, jeans slung low around his narrow hips making his shoulders look absurdly broad. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She swayed, sensing her rulebook becoming less relevant by the moment. Damn.
A few minutes later, Jenna watched Tim make his way down the toothpaste aisle. “You made it.”
“I had a rough go, but I’m here.” He threw her a sideways grin. “I asked the sales girl for Smarties, but the American version isn’t the same as at home.”
“We’ll go back and find you something good before we leave.” Jenna perused the selection in the aisle. “I think my roommate used my toothbrush. She won’t admit to it, but it was wet when I went into the bathroom the other morning.”
“Sounds like your flatmate needs a lesson in proper etiquette.”
She grabbed a purple one and tossed it in to the basket. “You have no idea. She’s the worst. I can’t wait until our lease is up and I can finally get rid of her.”
They walked to the center aisle and made their way farther into the store. “When’s that?”
“Five months.”
“And you only bought one toothbrush? That’s very optimistic.” He looked at her with a smile so brilliant it left Jenna dazed. “Why don’t you just kick her out?”
“I’d love to, but I can’t afford the rent by myself.” She stopped after a few more steps. “You don’t need to come with me. I had a boyfriend who refused to be anywhere near this part of the store.”
Tim looked over her shoulder and scrunched up his eyebrows. “You can’t scare me. My sisters sent me to the market plenty of times for this stuff.”
She kept her lips pressed together. She didn’t want to blurt out that he might possibly be the most charming guy she’d ever met. “I’ll be quick.” She headed toward the spot where her brand of tampons was, at the far end of what now seemed like an eternally long aisle. She felt his presence behind her. Why did I decide to do this now? Why don’t I just tell him the results of my last pap smear? She grabbed the blue-and-yellow box. “All set. Let’s get you your sugar fix.”
After ten minutes in line, they reached the cashier and Jenna paid for her things first. He peered into her messenger bag when she opened it.
“What in the world do you have in there?” he asked.
“Oh, supplies. I design jewelry. That’s what I really want to do. The coffee shop is just to pay the bills. That’s why I can’t dump the toothbrush-user. All of my money is tied up in my samples.” She held out her arm to reveal a chunky, silver bracelet.
“Very nice. A creative woman. I like it.”
The cashier swiped Tim’s items across the scanner. “That’ll be $22.37,” she said in a robotic voice.
He whipped out his wallet, seeming more confident with the paper money than he had that morning, but Jenna could tell the coins were still giving him trouble. “How much again?” he asked.
“It’s $22.37,” the cashier answered, resting her hand on her hip. The guy behind them groaned.
Jenna sifted through what was in his hand. They stood close and she felt the heat radiating from him, marveling at how com
fortable she already felt around him. It normally took her weeks to be this at ease with a guy.
Loaded down with bags, they resumed their walk to her apartment. The wind had picked up and Tim walked with his shoulders hunched. She made a mental note to help him take care of the jacket situation tomorrow. “You’ll love the Pretzel M&M’s,” she said. “They’re so good. I thought I was going to faint when I first tried them.”
“I’m holding you personally responsible if they don’t do it for me.”
“Let’s crack ’em open. Come here.” She shifted the bags to one hand and her arm dropped with the added weight.
“Give me those.” He reached out his free hand.
She looped the shopping bags onto his arm and took the candy from one. She tore the corner and poured a few M&M’s into her hand. She held them out for him and he smirked, looking at his overloaded arms.
“You’re going to have to feed me.” He leaned closer and she popped them into his mouth, her thumb brushing his lower lip. He scrunched up his face and made an exaggerated swallow. “Not my cup of tea.”
“Really?” Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. “You don’t like them?”
“Not really.” He shook his head then chuckled. “Kidding. They’re magic.”
Jenna smacked him on the arm, causing his eyes to light up in the most playfully sexy way. “Very funny.”
“Let me have another,” he said. He bent closer, which caused her to shudder.
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
“I’m sorry. Please, one more?” He opened his mouth and she relented. He chewed slowly, watching her. “Now you’ve done it. You’ve gone and ruined me for all other candy-coated treats.”
She giggled like a schoolgirl and pursed her lips to stop. That wasn’t even that funny. What’s wrong with me? He stood very straight as they walked, as though he was proud of the effect he’d had on her.
They turned on to Jenna’s tree-lined street and she started to feel sad as they passed each brownstone, coming closer to her own. It was one of the most fun nights she’d had in a long time—totally unplanned but completely enjoyable.
“Here we are,” she said, her voice heavy.
Chapter Two
While Tim enjoyed the Pretzel M&M’s, what he couldn’t stop thinking about was that she’d practically put her finger in his mouth. More than a little sexy. He stood in front of the stairs leading up to her building, wondering if he’d ever get a chance to see her apartment.
She turned to him, a look he couldn’t read crossing her face. Her lips scrunched into a frown as she glanced up at her building. She pointed toward the second floor. “That would be my roommate.”
He followed her gaze and saw a woman with long black hair leaping and flailing in front of the window.
“What is she doing? Having some sort of seizure?”
Jenna snorted. “If only. That’s her hobby. She’s in this creative movement dance group. She practices whenever the mood strikes and the music is god-awful.”
“I’m truly sorry. That almost makes the toothbrush issue a good thing by comparison.”
Jenna rubbed her hands together. “It’s really chilly out. I should let you get home. You live near the café, right? Do you know where you’re going?”
“Not really,” he confessed.
“Okay, go down three blocks then turn left, then when you get to the pizza place take a…” She paused, eyes narrowed. “You know what? I’ll write it down.”
She sorted through her bag, coming up with a pen but no paper. He transferred all the bags to one hand and patted his pockets, but he had nothing either.
“Give me your hand.” She clutched his icy fingers between her warm ones, sending waves of heat through the rest of his body. “Oh my God, you’re freezing.”
“Well, you know what they say, cold hands…”
“Shoulda worn a jacket. Tomorrow I’m going to show you some places to shop. I mean, if you want.” She looked suddenly shy as she glanced up at him.
“That would be great.”
“Well, it’s the least I can do. You did scare off my drunk customer and carry my tampons home.”
A gust of wind came and he shivered, more from the fact that she was still holding his hand than from the cold air.
“Okay.” She popped the cap off her pen and started drawing on his palm. “Let’s get you in the direction of home before you freeze to death. We’re here.” She put an “x” at the ball of his palm then drew an arrow toward his pinky. “You need to walk three blocks to Eighth Street, then turn left.” She drew another arrow straight across the base of his fingers. “Then turn right when you get to First Avenue.” She drew a third arrow down the length of his index finger and placed a dot at the tip. “The café’s on that corner. I trust you can find your way from there.”
“Right.” She looked so lovely he wanted to lean in and kiss her, but he stopped himself. Things are going well. Don’t muck it up. You’ve already got a date of sorts. He bent his fingers into a gun shape, the arrow on his index finger still showing. “Looks like you’ve pointed me in the right direction.”
She groaned, which pleased him immensely.
“So, tomorrow…” He didn’t want to leave without a definite plan to see her again.
“Yes. I’m working in the morning, not at the café, over at NYU. I’m a life model for the art classes.”
His breath caught as he opened his mouth but she interrupted him before he could get a word out.
“Not nude, I wear a leotard. It’s for the animation classes, they just need to study movement not anatomy.”
He chuckled at the fact that she’d known what he was thinking, but it didn’t stop him from picturing her without her clothes. He was feeling warmer by the minute.
“I should be done by noon. The building is on the corner of Broadway and Eighth. Here.” She took his hand again and wrote on the top. B’way & 8th. “It’s the School of the Arts building on the corner. Wait by the front entrance. If you can be up that early.”
“I’ll manage.” He smiled. “But I have to get to an audition at four.”
“Oh, where?”
“Place called One If By Land. They’ve got an opening for a pianist.”
“Wow, that’s a nice restaurant. Really fancy. Wait, I thought you played guitar.” Her brow furrowed, making her look absolutely adorable. The urge to kiss her returned with a vengeance.
“I do. I’m generally good with my hands.”
Her eyes bugged. “Oh my God, your hands. You’ve got an audition at one of the swankiest places in Manhattan and I just wrote all over you.”
She looked so horrified he couldn’t help but laugh. “No worries, they’re not concerned with what they look like, only what I can do with them.”
Her lips pulled into a smile that made them look irresistible. She reached for her bags. “Well, thanks for walking me home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He watched as she trotted up the stairs and keyed into the building, disappearing behind the heavy wooden door. A chill ran through him again and he realized he really was cold.
The frigid night air did little to contain the heat that Jenna stirred inside him though. By the time he got into his apartment, he had a raging hard-on. He stripped off his clothes and fell into bed, his hand firmly wrapped around his cock.
It’d been three days since he’d had a wank and he was more than ready for release. Images of Jenna flooded his mind. The way her hair cascaded past her delicate shoulders, the gentle swell of her hips, the enticing bow of her lips each time she smiled. He indulged in long, slow strokes as he remembered the feel of her finger grazing his mouth. He ran his tongue over his lip, tasting the sweetness of the candy as he wondered if she’d taste just as sweet.
He slicked the beads of pre-cum over his swollen tip, imagining Jenna’s full lips sliding over him. The pressure built deep within his belly as he tightened his grip, thrusting in and out of his fist. He pictured her modelin
g, with clothes, without clothes, the curves of her body, his hands running over them until she opened herself to him. Warm. Wet.
He stroked faster, opening his eyes just as the thick, pearly liquid shot out of his cock, splattering across his chest, the farthest drop reaching his collarbone. Jesus. He reached for his boxers to wipe off, feeling the tension ebb from his body. With visions of Jenna still in his mind, he drifted off into much-needed sleep.
* * * * *
Jenna thundered down the stairs of her apartment building the next morning, late as usual. She made it down the sidewalk, dodging an old guy and his dog, walking double time and pressing the speed dial on her cell.
“Hey,” Natalie answered.
“Guess what?” Jenna asked, waiting impatiently at the corner for a delivery truck to pass so she could cross. “British Guitar Guy has a name. It’s Tim. He walked me home last night.”
“No way. How did that happen? Wait, what are you doing letting a strange guy walk you home?”
“Long story. Let’s just say that he came to my rescue. He’s not strange, either. He’s sweet. And funny.”
“Oh boy,” Natalie said. There was a rustle on the other end of the line before she yelled at Charlie to bring out some more bagels. “I take it you’re considering breaking the no-musician rule?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Or you’re just too chicken to say it.” There was a second rustle. “Jen, I really gotta run. Things are getting crazy. Talk later?”
“Yeah. Tim and I are going shopping this afternoon.”
“Call me. I want to hear everything.”
Jenna hung up and shoved her phone into the pocket of her jean jacket. She practically sprinted the last few blocks and dashed across Astor Place toward the Tisch School of the Arts building. She made it to Introduction to Animation just in time.
Students were milling about, finding spots on the floor, pulling out stacks of loose paper and opening boxes of charcoal. Jenna slipped out of her jacket and loose dress to reveal a plain black leotard and tights. She stepped to the center of the room, ignoring the disapproving look from Professor Giles, who was surprisingly uptight for an art teacher.
