Good With His Hands

by Lauren Blakely

  “Oh yeah?” I warn my brain that this isn’t a good idea.

  My brain agrees, but my brain isn’t what’s most invested in this conversation.

  Yes, my incorrigible dick is getting hard again, but it’s the ache in my chest that worries me, the way my heart feels like it’s on a Coney Island thrill ride. It rushes downhill when Ruby says, “I promised Gigi I wouldn’t fall for you, but . . . seriously,” she says, laughing and rolling her eyes. “I mean, could we really catch feels in two weeks?”

  Like that’s the most ridiculous idea ever.

  And it does sound crazy.

  Because that shit doesn’t happen. I arch a brow, my pulse speeding as I take a step closer. “Pretty doubtful.”

  “Right. Two weeks is barely any time at all,” she says, slowly uncrossing and re-crossing her legs in a way that threatens to give my thrill-riding heart something more serious to worry about. “And if we were going to fall for each other, we would have done it by now, right?” She scoffs. “I mean, we’ve known each other forever.”

  “But we weren’t always close,” I remind her, the words out of my mouth before I can snare them.

  Why am I arguing with her? I can see where she’s headed, and I want to go there. A part of me is already imagining the sounds Ruby will make as I kiss my way up her thighs and drag those stockings off her legs with my teeth.

  But the other part of me seems stuck in protective mode. “Things have been different the past two years,” I add.

  “They have. And we’re close now. We’re real friends, not simply . . . friends by association.” She tilts her head to study me for a beat. Her gaze is locked on mine, and there’s a new strength in her eyes, a new certainty. Maybe it’s from finishing PT, or maybe it’s from starting the list, or hell, maybe it’s from the mushrooms.

  Whatever it is, she looks like a woman taking charge of a night she doesn’t want to end, and it’s so fucking hot.

  “But if you think more than friends is a bad idea . . .” A hint of nervousness creeps back into her voice.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “No, but you didn’t say you wanted to do more than stare at me, either.” She hesitates, biting her bottom lip as she waves toward me. “And you’re still way over there.”

  I’m torn between teasing her and showing her just how fast I can do more than stare. “When did you get so good at that?”

  “Good at what?”

  “Flirting,” I say, taking a step closer.

  She sits up straighter, causing her breasts to peak against her slinky shirt and my imagination to charge full speed ahead into the Friends with Benefits zone. “I don’t know,” she says, soft and sexy. “Honestly, I don’t think I am good at it. Not usually. Not with . . . normal men.”

  I arch a brow. “Just weirdos like me?”

  Her lips quirk. “Yeah. Just weirdos like you.” She pulls in a shaky breath, releasing it as I move even closer. “You’re the furthest thing from weird, and you know it. You’re . . .”

  When she doesn’t finish, I ask, “What? I’m what?”

  “You’re the it guy,” she says, holding my gaze with glittering eyes. “The unattainable sex god we mere mortals drool over as you walk by. But you’re so far above us you don’t even notice.”

  “I notice you, Ruby,” I say, bracing my hands on either side of her hips. “I notice everything about you. Every . . . fucking . . . thing.”

  My eyes travel up and down her face, her breasts, her body, memorizing how she looks this second as she says, “Then I think there’s only one thing to do.”

  “What’s that?” I love the teasing, love the anticipation. Most of all, I love hearing this woman own the move she’s about to make.

  She licks her lips. “There’s a reason I didn’t want the night to end.”

  I glide my hand to her hip, touching her.

  It’s a hip.

  A hip I’ve known most of my life.

  A hip I’m sure I’ve bumped, grazed accidentally many times.

  There is nothing accidental about the way I touch her now.

  Everything is deliberate as I curl my hand around that delicious bone.

  Everything is electric when her voice hitches on one sexy syllable—a delicious, inviting, “Oh.”

  I lean in until our faces are near enough that I feel her breath warm on my lips as she whispers, “I want to try something new.”

  She closes the gap, pressing her lips to mine, sending the roller coaster inside me swooping over a crest and plunging down the other side.

  My stomach lurches and my chest goes tight as a wave of something more intense that simple attraction rushes through me.

  At first, it’s only lips.

  Mine on hers. Hers on mine. A gentle, curious exploration, learning the landscape, sampling the dips and valleys of each other.

  And as my lips brush hers, I try to record all the lush details. The tropical scent in her hair, like she uses one of those Hawaiian shampoos. The soft curves of her mouth.

  The little sighs and gasps she makes that lead me on.

  Make me want to get even closer.

  She parts her lips, inviting me to take this kiss to another level.

  Try something new, indeed.

  My tongue flicks into her mouth, and she opens for me. Then, in the span of a heartbeat, my mind is a wild haze.

  My body takes over.

  My blood pumps fast as I thread my fingers into her silky hair and pull her closer, devouring her mouth. She tastes like salt and spice from our meal, with a hint of lemon and a deeper, sweeter base note that’s pure Ruby.

  And I want to get to know this side of her.

  Seems she wants the same thing. Her hands make their way up my chest, traveling over my pecs until she loops them around my neck.

  This isn’t a starter kiss.

  This is one of those kisses that’s going in only one direction.

  My favorite direction.

  She tugs gently on my neck, and since I’m a damn good listener, I answer her, nudging her legs apart, making room for myself.

  Here, on the O of YO, I wedge myself between those gorgeous thighs—thank you, sculptor, for making this letter perfect kissing height for a sitting woman and a standing guy. As I move closer to her center, a gasp escapes those pretty lips.

  I break the kiss. “Everything good?”

  “So good. But I don’t think I’ve tried quite enough of this something new. You know, for the sake of the list. I need more."

  “Then we better make sure you complete this task,” I tease, tightening my fingers in her hair, savoring the feel of the strands as my other hand slides around to her ass.

  I jerk her closer, my hard-on pressing against her now, loud and clear.

  She gives a little yelp. A sexy one. “That’s . . . new.”

  I wiggle a brow. “Something to try,” I say, unable to help myself.

  Hell, I’m sealed to this fantastic woman on a gorgeous summer night, and she’s buzzed on mushrooms and lists and the butterfly effect . . . and me.

  We’re not going to catch feelings.

  We’re not going to cause trouble.

  We’re just trying something new.

  And I want more of the new. So much more. I dip my face to her again, sliding my lips over hers, teasing, tempting.

  Giving her little kisses.

  Tiny flicks of my tongue.

  Then, I haul her closer, press my lips to hers, and spend my time on a long, hot, deep kiss.

  It goes to my head.

  It sizzles over my skin. It’s a full-body kiss as Ruby melts against me, tugging me closer, pulling me harder, leaning her head back.

  She’s needy and desperate, and it’s desperately sexy.

  It’s intoxicating, the way she craves every single second of this connection between us.

  I travel across her jaw, kissing and sucking as I go.

  “That’s . . . so new,” she says, panting.

&n
bsp; “So’s this,” I whisper as I reach her neck, running my nose along her flesh, inhaling that summery scent that reminds me of beaches and oceans and everything good in the world.

  Everything I don’t want to stop.

  Like this moment with her, as I journey to her ear, nipping the lobe, then sucking.

  “Jesse.”

  My name is a moan.

  An invitation.

  And it’s a line in the sand that I need to heed.

  Because if I cross that line, we’re going to be doing much more than kissing.

  I wrench apart from her, my breath coming fast, hers even faster.

  “Should we take this somewhere more . . . private?” she asks, no doubt in her voice, only hope.

  I want to say yes.

  I’m dying to say yes.

  Hell, I’m already mentally calculating how long it will take for a car service to get here and across the park to my place.

  Trouble is, this is risky.

  This is dangerous.

  Because I’m leaving, and she’s staying, and friends with benefits for a night, or a week, or two weeks is . . . maybe okay. But maybe not. It’s something I need time to process.

  And it’s absolutely a decision I need to make with my brain and not with hands that ache to touch her and a dick that’s already winning every damn match with me tonight.

  I swore I’d be good, keep my hands to myself.

  And already I’ve got them wrapped around off-limits Ruby.

  “I want to, Ruby. Trust me, there’s nothing I want more in the world,” I say. “But not tonight.”

  Her shoulders sag, and I nearly throw in the towel. But somewhere, I find the willpower. “Because I don’t know that I can keep my hands off you if we go to your place or mine. And this seems like something we should sleep on, don’t you think? Make sure we still think this is a good idea when we’re not horny?”

  She gives a helpless shrug. “But I’m always horny,” she says with a sincerity that makes me laugh. “No, seriously,” she says, firm and strong, setting her hands on my shoulders to make her point. “It’s been a long time, Jesse. Like . . . a really long time. Chad and I didn’t sleep together. And before that I just . . . I wasn’t ready. Mentally or physically.”

  Whoa.

  Is she saying what I think she’s saying? That it’s been more than two years?

  “So it’s been . . . a few years?”

  “Yes. Does that make me a virgin again?” she asks, faux innocent as she bats her lashes.

  I can’t help but laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, but my thoughts and prayers go out to you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  I lean in, dust a kiss onto her forehead, then brush her hair away from her face. “Just having a good time with you, that’s all. And I figured that might be the case—that it had been a while.”

  She frowns. “How could you tell? Was I bad at kissing?”

  My heart squeezes, and I run a hand down her hair. “Shut up. You’re amazing,” I say, my eyes locked with hers as I say those two words.

  “I am?”

  I tuck my fingers under her chin. “Yes. Your kiss could jump-start a car. Hell, it could jump-start a whole fleet of vehicles.”

  She grins playfully. “Perhaps I have a hidden talent.” She snaps her fingers. “And you know—that could be a card. A cartoon couple kissing on the hood of a car and you jump-start me written underneath.”

  I laugh. “See? The kiss was amazing, fuel-injected, and inspiring.”

  A laugh bursts from her, and she smacks my chest. “Fuel-injected is the worst way to describe a kiss.”

  I shrug. “Or maybe it’s the best. And that kiss was absolutely the best.”

  “Yeah?”

  “No doubt.” I inch away, meeting her gaze. “But everything you said—those are all the reasons to wait and be sure this is what you want.”

  And to be sure this isn’t morally sketchy, whispers a soft voice in my mind. Sure, she seems cool with a casual thing before I leave town, but that doesn’t track with the Ruby I’ve known. She’s a relationship girl, not a fling girl, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of her at a vulnerable time in her life. Especially if it’s the list that’s making her vulnerable.

  Flings might be easier for me than her.

  I’ve done serious, but I’ve also done no-strings casual. I’m not sure Ruby has dipped her toes into the waters of the latter.

  “Okay,” she says after a beat, “but I don’t see myself changing my mind. And if you change yours, fuel-injected and inspiring kisses notwithstanding, I might be too mortified to take you painting with me tomorrow.”

  My brows lift. “Painting?”

  Her lips curve up on one side as she opens her purse and pulls out a familiar piece of paper. “I have an idea. About number four—something ugly we can make beautiful again.”

  “That one kind of stumped me,” I admit. “What have you got?”

  “I’m not sure we can completely resurrect this particular beauty, but we can make it beautiful in a different way than it was before.” She shrugs before adding in a whisper, “But it’s a little bit illegal. So if you don’t want to, I understand.”

  Color me intrigued.

  “A little bit illegal,” I echo, shaking my head. “Who are you? And what have you done with Plays by the Rules Ruby?”

  “I have new rules now,” she says, lifting the list between two fingers.

  The words make my stomach clench, but I ignore it. This is good. The list is shaking things up and putting Ruby on a path to a more exciting, fulfilling life.

  That’s what the list is about—Ruby finding her mojo. It isn’t a shortcut to getting her to sleep with me. I’m leaving. I sold the shop. I need to do the list and say goodbye like a friend.

  Sleeping with her is a conflict of interest.

  A big one.

  It’s time to set the rules of breaking the law. Because I’m a good friend who looks out for her. I raise one finger. “This new scofflaw side of you . . . if I’m going to embrace it . . .” I trail off, playfully letting the word stretch between us.

  “Yes?” she asks with twinkling eyes.

  “I need to know our signal. What’s our plan if the cops show up? Do I leave you behind, or toss you on my shoulder and run like hell?”

  “You better not leave me behind,” she protests, matching my tone. “But I’m not sure I’ll need carrying. As I’ve proven tonight . . . I’m very fast.”

  “Yes, you are,” I murmur, offering her a hand so she can hop down from the O. “And I’d never leave you behind, my criminal friend.”

  But I am leaving her behind.

  Only, I have to stop thinking of it that way. Ruby’s trying to live her best life. I’m trying to live mine.

  It just so happens, mine will be across the country.

  And that’s going to have to be okay.

  As we walk away from the museum, I rub my palms together. “Okay, renegade. Tell me the plan.”

  She spins around, walking backward. “The plan is to meet me in SoHo tomorrow afternoon,” she says, then gives me the cross streets.

  “And what will we do? Break into an art gallery? Steal a bowl of overpriced oats at a café? Jaywalk?”

  She shrugs like a sexy imp. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

  Considering the kiss was something of a surprise, I have a feeling I’ll like this one as well.

  Maybe too much.

  10

  Ruby

  Dear Claire,

  * * *

  Tonight . . . I kissed Jesse. Yeah, that Jesse. Your Jesse. Our Jesse.

  * * *

  And it was amazing. Mind-blowing. Take the best kiss you’ve ever had, multiply it by five and raise it to the sixth power, and you’d still fall short of just how high he ranks on the kissing scale.

  * * *

  And yeah, I know. He’s your brother.

  * * *

  I c
an hear you gagging and swearing me to silence on all things Jesse’s-lips-related as I write this.

  * * *

  But I think you’d be laughing too.

  * * *

  At least, I hope you would be.

  * * *

  I hope you’d be happy for me and wouldn’t mind that I added something unexpected to your “something new” challenge.

  * * *

  You were so right, Claire. I needed this.

  * * *

  I needed a shove out of my comfort zone. I was so scared of that list at first, but now it feels right. And so does kissing Jesse, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to more-than-kiss Jesse the first chance I get.

  * * *

  But don’t worry. It’s just a friends-with-benefits thing. No one’s heart is going to get broken. We wouldn’t do that to each other. We need each other too much.

  * * *

  We need each other to hold on to you. There are too many memories to carry in one brain. One heart.

  * * *

  I miss you so much, my soul sister. I wish you were here to give me your blessing. I wish you were here . . . period.

  * * *

  Missing you and loving you and always will,

  * * *

  Ruby

  * * *

  I finish the letter and sit back in my desk chair, tears stinging my eyes.

  But I don’t cry. I let the wave of sadness and anger wash through me.

  I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to think of Claire without getting pissed off that so much of her life was stolen from her, from me, from everyone who loved her.