All or Nothing at All(48)

It was time to show her how serious he was about moving their relationship forward. It was time to roll the dice and make his play. Tonight.

"Tristan?"

He turned toward her, shaken from his thoughts. "Yeah?"

"Not tonight, Rambo."

He jerked, spilling his soda over his fingers. Shock held him immobile. "What did you just say?"

She tossed him a teasing smile. "You've got that really intense look you get when you're planning a big coup. Your eyes squint up and you press your lips together, and you look kind of mad."

That was his sexy face? Ugh. He needed to work on a better seduction technique. Still, at least she hadn't guessed the real reason for his focus. "Never realized you knew my habits so well."

She shrugged. "We've known each other a long time. I also know when you lie."

Now, that was a terrifying thought. He gave a fierce frown. "Do not."

Was that a giggle that escaped or just his imagination? "Your left eyebrow hikes up."





 

 
Holy shit. Was she right? No one had ever told him before. Was that how his mother had always known when he skipped school, hit his brothers, or snuck in after curfew? "That's ridiculous. You're bluffing."

She shrugged, but her face danced with delight. "Think whatever you want. I'm just playing fair and warning you. Anyway, back to your intense face. Take the night off before you try to get off on another project."

This time he choked on his own spit, causing him to fall into a coughing fit. Crap, he had to get out of here. He was beginning to spiral down. "Good idea. How about we head to My Place to celebrate? My brothers will be there."

She stood up, discarding her trash and brushing off the crumbs from her red power suit. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm going to head home. I need to catch up on some serious sleep. It's been a long week."

He wanted to try to change her mind to extend his time with her, but she was right. She needed a night to relax on her own, especially since Becca was over at a friend's house.

But that wouldn't change his plans for later.

They drove home, but this time their trip was filled with chatter and discussion instead of charged silence. He turned into her driveway, noting her porch light flickering on and off.

"Thanks for driving. I'll touch base with you and- What are you doing?"

He'd already climbed out of the car. "Walking you to the door. It's dark, and your light is out."

She slammed the car door and walked over to him. Her lips twitched in a smile. "I know how to change a lightbulb."

"So do I. Becca's not home, and I'll feel better knowing you're safe inside. You should get a dog."

She sighed but let him accompany her. "I have an alarm, and don't you dare mention your thoughts to Becca. She's been torturing me. Who knew you were such an old-fashioned guy? You wouldn't even let me pay for the hot dogs."

"That was on the company account."

She laughed and opened the door before quickly tapping out the code to her alarm. He looked around the rooms, enjoying the simple comfort and warmth the feminine decor gave a visitor. His space was kept ruthlessly neat and organized, but he liked the joyous clutter of Sydney's home. These were rooms well lived in, played in, laughed in. Every object was used and held some sort of statement, from the Disney snow globes to the colorful vases filled with cheerful daisies and the explosion of vibrant throw pillows. A painting of a rowboat washed ashore on the beach hung slightly askew. The kitchen table held piles of books and crayon kits, a red Nintendo DS, glittery nail polish bottles, and three stuffed animals in shocking pink. 

"Sorry, it's always a bit of a mess." She rummaged around in the closet and removed a bulb. "See, I got it covered."

"I'll change it for you."

"You don't have- Okay." She broke off when he plucked the bulb from her hand and went outside. It took him only a few minutes to change it out, and he was surprised at the satisfaction from such a simple task. Underneath his civilization lurked a caveman, content to take care of his woman. He returned with the empty package and stuffed it in the recyclables.

"Thank you. I appreciate it," she said.

"Where's my meat?"

His sense of humor was sometimes odd. Like his brothers, Sydney had always gotten it, and she laughed right away, catching the reference. Why did it make him so happy to know there was still a connection between them? Why did occupying the same space as her make him feel so damn complete?

"Would you settle for a drumstick as payment?" she teased.

"How about a different type of payment?"

She stilled. The relaxed air between them dissipated, but he didn't care. He had one intention tonight, and that was to make her uncomfortable. In a good way. In a sexual way.