by Brinda Berry
“Woman, you are very slow. I thought you’d have food in the fridge by now.” He grins and grabs the grocery bag. “Let me.”
Collin organizes the items in the kitchenette while I peer inside the last bag. Dang him for making me feel like an emotional ninny. My hands shake.
“This isn’t a housewarming gift,” I say in a scolding tone.
“No, it’s not. It’s a business perk.”
“I can’t accept it.”
“It’s part of the job. All businesses give their employees smartphones. I can’t expect you to do your work without it.”
I shake my head slowly. “These cost a lot. Are you sure I need it? Even if I’m only temporary?”
Collin takes the box from my hand and sits on the futon. “Yeah. I’m sure. Don’t argue. Plus, you can read books on it or listen to music. Anything you want.”
Books. My heart beats faster.
He opens the package. “The salesman already set it up. You have Internet and my phone number’s programmed in. Do you need some numbers from your old phone?”
“No,” I answer a little too quickly.
He glances up from the phone in his hand. “There’s no need to sound suspicious. I thought by now you’d trust me.”
I sit beside him on the futon. “It’s not a matter of trust. I do trust you.”
He places the phone on the black futon cushion and sighs. “In college I had all these leadership activities in classes where we’d practice trust. You know, team building. Trust is a tough thing to actually practice.”
“Like what? What kinds of things?” I move to sit beside him. “I think I remember something like that from high school.”
He grins. “Close your eyes and follow my directions.”
“What? I don’t think so.” But I know I will do whatever he says. I smirk and squeeze my eyes shut.
“I’m going somewhere in the room and I’ll direct you to me. No peeking.”
“That’s too easy.”
“Um-hmm…” He chuckles and crosses the room. Or at least that’s what he seems to be doing from the sound of his footsteps.
My senses are in hyper drive. “I’m waiting.”
“Patience.” He moves around some more. Maybe he’s trying to fool me.
“Now?”
He laughs low in his throat, a sexy sound that ramps up my pulse. “Stand up.”
I do as he says. The refrigerator buzzes in the background to my left. “Now what?”
“Take a step forward. Yeah. Um-hmm. Just like that.” His voice is a low rumble. Amused.
For some reason, his words make me think of other things. Naughty things. I gulp.
“Take more steps forward with that same stride. Count ten of them. Ten steps. Then a step left and then right.”
One. Two. Three. Four. I continue through the eighth step. I have to be near the end of the room by now. “Collin?”
“Right here. Don’t open your eyes. Was that ten?”
“No.”
“You should keep going.”
“But, Collin,” I smile, squeezing my eyes shut harder so I won’t accidentally open them. “I’m going to end up outside. You’re going to tell me when to stop, right?”
“Trust,” he murmurs.
The one word prompts me to continue two steps. I take a left and then a stumbling right. I slam into his body and open my eyes on impact.
We tumble back, Collin enveloping his arms around me. He crashes into the floor and I’m braced on top of him.
“I didn’t say hit me like a linebacker,” he says through a moan. “I think you broke my back.”
I lay my forehead on his chest, unable to stop laughing. “I told you to stop me. You goob.”
“Goob? You call me names after I protected you from falling? My tailbone’s probably cracked from the wood floor.”
“I’m sorry!” I continue to laugh and lift my head. His mouth is inches away from mine. I lick my lips.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?” I breathe a little heavier. “Do what?” His hands linger at the waist to my jeans, a sliver of bare skin exposed. Fingers press into my hips like he’s holding onto me.
“Tease me like that.”
“I’m not doing anything of the kind.”
Collin moves his hands away from my waist and I stop myself from demanding that he put them back. I want to feel his hands on my skin.
He smooths a loose strand of hair from my face. “I’m not doing anything either.” He threads his hands through my hair and pulls my face closer. He seductively kisses the tip of my nose with a sensual press of his lips, and then does the same to the corner of my mouth. He tugs my bottom lip with his teeth and sucks it between his lips.
“I … uh … oh wow, you’re good at that,” I murmur. Intelligent words are stuck in my head and I’m only able to make helpless little panting sounds.
He moves his mouth—oh, that mouth that feels as persuasive as the devil—down my jaw to my neck. A hot, luscious feeling bursts to life in my core. He rolls me onto my back in one slick move.
He rubs his hand up my side, moving my shirt with it as he skims the side of my breast. I want to yell for joy, wondering why I didn’t put that hand there for him.
My brain signals that he’s obviously done this before. A lot. And he’s pretty darn good at it. I might be naked in a minute and surprised at how I got that way.
He kisses me now, his tongue stroking mine, his hips lined up to let me feel the length of him. My skin is heated, my hands on his back fisting his shirt.
He breaks our kiss and reaches to tug the T-shirt over his head. “You’re so beautiful. Do you have any idea how much you turn me on?”
I freeze, a distant part of my brain screaming an alarm. Collin’s kiss, his hands, his lips—I’d reveled in it all until he’d said those last words. A sentence I’d heard before from different lips on a night with Shawn. Shawn’s rough hands gripping my hair. Shawn pushing me into the wall. Shawn hurting me. Pretend you don’t like it. That just turns me on.
“I need to get up.” I push a little too frantically at his chest.
He lifts his weight from me and moves to the side. His hand rests on my shoulder. “Did I do something?”
“No,” I shake my head quickly and force a smile. “It got a little serious there and we both know this isn’t going to work. I like you. I do. And your kissing skills are award-worthy. But I’m not staying and…”
We both sit and stare into each other’s eyes, daring the other to change the direction of this moment. To give in to what we both want.
After several seconds, he breaks the spell. “I don’t want you to feel you have to explain. If you’re not feeling it, you’re not.” He grabs his shirt and stands.
I take his offered hand. There’s a stabbing in my chest because he’s not arguing more. He’s gentle in his touch, so unlike Shawn. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I got carried away and I thought you were right there with me. It’s my fault.”
Collin pulls his shirt back on. “But now, I think we need to get out of here for a little while.”
“In the dark?”
“Yeah. I know.” He waggles his eyebrows. “I need an escort. I told you what happened to me in the department store earlier. Women are out on the streets ready to compromise my innocence.”
I grin at his effort to pretend we weren’t a heartbeat away from moving beyond a kiss. “Oh, right. Well, I’ll be happy to make sure no lonely women proposition you.”
We head out into the night with me attempting to pretend everything is the same as earlier today. From the passenger seat of Collin’s car, I peer sidelong at his profile lit by the dashboard glow. Long dark lashes, the deliberate stubble of a five o’clock shadow, the serious dark eyes that see everything…
He sees me and doesn’t push for more than I’m ready to give.
“What,” he says.
“What-what?
”
“You sighed.” He turns to look at me. “I heard a definite sigh.”
Caught. “I was thinking about how nice you are.”
“Nice,” he mutters. “Nice guys finish last. Did you ever hear that?”
“It’s a lie.”
“Oh? Enlighten me. I’ve thought about moving over to the dark side.”
“I think you’re leading the race. You have a nice house, nice job, and a nice car. What else could you want?”
He’s silent for too long. “There are less material things I’d like to have.”
“Like what?”
He’s silent and I wonder if he’s thinking about the answer or he doesn’t want to say.
We exit the main highway and I recognize a barn and gate we pass. “Where are we going?”
“Ace and Mal’s. Malerie’s begged for me to bring you out again. Is this okay?”
I nod. I can’t avoid her forever. “They’re both really nice.”
“There’s that word again. Nice.” He waits a beat. “Mal isn’t what she seems. She’s a little insecure.”
I snort. “You have to be kidding.”
“No, seriously. She’s a good friend to me and I care about her. I’ve known her for a long time. She was raised by an uncle who died a year ago and she survived a bombing when she was a kid. Mal’s dealt with it all, and Ace has helped, but she doesn’t have a lot of friends. She’s a loner.”
“I wouldn’t guess that. She’s seems so confident.”
“We all have demons. Some people put theirs out on display and others hold their fears tight to the chest like they’re afraid to let them out in view. Malerie’s going to be fine. She’s better every day.”
I’m quiet as we drive to the security gate. Collin punches the code and I peer into the darkness, hoping I can say the right things to make everything all right with Malerie. I’m ashamed I let my pride rule my actions.
We park and walk past the larger house, its dark windows making me wonder if the landlord is ever home. Malerie and Ace’s smaller house is well-lit and so is the area around the pool.
“Hey, we’re over here.” Malerie’s voice finds us as we stand at her front door. Her head bobs above the edge of the pool.
Collin strolls toward the pool. “Thought we’d get out for a while. Veronica moved today. She’s going to stay in the office loft while she works for us.”
“Cool.” Malerie wipes water from her eyes. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“You should come tomorrow,” I say before I lose my nerve. “And you can bring me one of those platters you tried to give me last week.” Okay. Peace offering. Please, please take it.
“I will do that,” she says with a squeal. “I have an extra toaster. And some other things. There’s—”
“Hold on, baby,” Ace says from across the pool. “The girl is in a loft the size of a shoebox. You’ll bury her in appliances if you’re not careful.”
“Oh,” Malerie says, clearly happy and planning to bring me everything she mentioned. She ducks her head under the water and back up like an otter.
Collin takes off his shoes and socks. I follow his lead and remove my sneakers. We both sit on the edge of the pool with our feet dangling in the cool water. Light sparkles along the surface, illuminating Mal and Ace as they hang from the side of the pool.
“Mal, are you going to tell them, or am I?” Ace lazily treads water near us. His wet hair is slicked back, making me think of a young Brad Pitt.
“Me, of course.” Malerie swims from the edge to a spot near my dangling feet. “We’re getting married.”
“Hey,” Collin says. “Congratulations. I wondered when you’d finally get around to it.”
“Wow. That’s so nice. Congratulations.” I rest my hand atop Malerie’s wet one for a second. “Do you guys have a date yet?”
“We’re thinking next month.” Malerie glances back at Ace. “Right?”
He nods. “Soon.”
I look at Malerie’s glowing face. In my limited wedding experience growing up in Shelby City, people my age announce and get married quickly for one reason.
Collin leans in to shake Ace’s hand. “You guys deserve a lifetime of everything good. I’m glad she’ll have you, bro.”
We stay until there’s a chill in the night air and say our goodbyes. We’re pulling out of the drive when Collin turns to me and says, “You asked me earlier what I wanted that I don’t have? That’s what I want. Someone to share my ups and downs with. A person to enjoy. I want what they have. And that’s not how life really happens. If I had that kind of person, I’d never let her go.”
15
Collin
The furniture delivery guys left too much space between my desk and Veronica’s. She’s looking at something on her phone that makes her grin.
I should rearrange. It only makes sense I might need to talk to her and not yell across the room.
Veronica glances up to catch me watching her for the fiftieth time this morning. I switch my gaze back to my computer screen. There’s plenty to do on the website project I’m working on and I’m irritated I can’t focus.
“Did you need something? I’m finished with everything you gave me,” she says in a guilty tone. “I could learn to do a new task to help you.”
Veronica is wearing new clothes. It’s a short dress that is entirely too tight for my peace of mind. Malerie went overboard and brought her extra kitchen items plus what appears to be an entire wardrobe. The crazy girl said she’d cleaned out a closet. The results resemble a going out of business sale.
Veronica’s presence would distract me if she wore bib overalls. How disturbed am I that I pictured her as a sexy farmer-girl? Malerie’s a smaller size, so her hand-me-downs mold to Veronica like pornographic wrapping.
“Do you want me to show you how to put text on an image? I could also use some help searching for the ones I need.” This is not entirely true. Not to boast, but I could perform these tasks while making a sandwich and watching football.
“You want me to come over there?” She rises from her seat and grabs a notebook and pen.
“I’ll come to you so you can work on your own machine. It’s better to learn hands-on.” Hands-on could be fun.
“Oh, okay.” She takes her seat again and shoves her phone to the side of the desk.
“Hey, finish whatever you were doing on your phone. No hurry.”
She looks guilty. “I am so sorry. I shouldn’t be on my phone at work.” Her cheeks tinge a sexy rose color. “I thanked Malerie earlier and she was texting me back. It’s no excuse.”
Well, shit. I didn’t mean to make her feel I was getting on to her. “You can use your phone anytime. I don’t care. You and Mal texting? That’s great.”
“Yes. She’s so nice. She keeps trying to give me stuff. She’s very generous.”
I pull a chair with me to sit at her side. Veronica’s short pink skirt is high on her beautifully tanned thighs and my mouth goes dry. “You look nice today.”
Nice isn’t exactly the right word. Hot. Gorgeous. Edible.
“Thanks. It’s from Malerie. She gave me a box of clothes and said it was either me or a donation bin. This is okay to wear for work?”
Please. Yes. I think I need to snap a photo for future reference. “It’s fine.”
She waits for me to give her instructions. I point to her monitor. “Let’s open your browser. I’ve got an account with an image site and can show you the best search techniques.”
Veronica navigates through the site with no difficulty. She’s intuitive of my next command and sometimes clicks on things before I can direct her. Soon, we move on to the photo editing software and I show her the tools to use.
I love the sound of her voice. It’s dark-chocolate rich. Sexy and inviting. I imagine her whispering into my ear every time she says, “Am I doing it right?” and “You make this so easy,” and “I’m so excited.”
“I have to mail some letters.” I’m on my f
eet and at my desk before she responds. I need a drive down the block to clear my head, so I grab a stack of letters from my desk that are likely from someone selling me something instead of outgoing mail.
“You’ll be back?” She looks concerned.
No wonder. I’d jumped from the chair like she’d shot a bottle rocket at me. “Of course. Need anything while I’m out?”
She shrugs and shakes her head. “Not a thing.”
I take my time, running errands to give me time to remove all thoughts of her bare legs from my head. The minute I walk in, the images rush at me like a charging bull. A distinct image of what those legs would feel like wrapped around my waist.
Hell.
I walk to the stairs instead of my desk. “Care if I get a drink from the fridge upstairs?”
“It’s your refrigerator.”
“It’s your loft.”
“Not really.” She beams at me. “But thanks for saying that. You should never ask. It’s only mine at night.”
I jog up the stairs and open the loft door. She’s transformed the place. Instead of it looking like a storage attic, it looks like a dorm room.
I’ve never seen a woman happy with so little.
I open the refrigerator and grab a bottled water. She needs more groceries. Maybe I can ask her if she’ll let me keep some stuff here. I unscrew the lid and take a gulp.
A faint buzzing sound comes from the futon and I go over to investigate. Her old prepaid phone lies nestled against a pillow. It buzzes again. The last time I’d had her phone in my hand, I’d only seen a number of missed calls, but no names listed from an address book.
I sit and stare at the phone, not touching her stuff. The buzzing stops for a minute and I take another swig of water. The display lights and the name BECK appears.
Who the fuck is Beck? Her brother’s name is Gunner.
I again remember how little I know about her. How long will it be before she trusts me? Weeks? Months? Years?
I want to pick the phone up and crush it under my shoe.
I know her no better than I’d know one of Jordy’s three-day hookups. And I usually only pass those girls in the hallway at home.
