“I have no idea,” I say, grinning. “You should just tell me instead of making me guess.”
Oh my god! I forgot how fun flirting can be. He’s still smiling down at me as he tries to come up with the perfect response.
I jingle my keys in my hand, letting him know that if he doesn’t come up with something quick, I’m going to open that door and disappear. Does he want me to do that? Or does he want me to remain out here on the front stoop with him in this sticky heat, with the cicadas singing all around us. I swear, I could stay out here all night. All he’d have to do is ask.
“You in a hurry?” he says.
I shrug. “Not really. Are you?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a glass of wine.”
My heart hammers loudly in my chest. I hope he can’t hear it. “Come on in. I have a bottle in the fridge.”
My hands are shaking so badly I can’t put the damn key in the lock. How embarrassing! So much for being a cool cucumber; my cucumber is warm and limp, left out on the counter for days and days . . .
He doesn’t say a word; he just takes the keys from me and gently slides the one we need into the lock. “Are you cold?” he asks close to my ear.
I laugh self-consciously. “It’s like eighty degrees out right now.”
“I guess that means you’re shaking for another reason.” He pushes the door open and gestures for me to precede him.
I sigh at him, annoyed that he won’t let me be a dork in secret. “I’m just nervous, okay?” I hate admitting that. For a moment there, I was living in an illusion where I knew what I was all about and was making him sweat.
He’s smiling again. I swear he looks like the devil himself, and very pleased about it too. “What are you nervous about?” he asks. “You’re not worried about being alone in the house with me, are you?”
I frown at him, feeling bad that he might actually believe that. “You’re crazy. I actually feel safer with you here in the house with me than I would by myself.”
“Hmm, that’s very interesting,” he says, following me into the front hall. “So if you’re not nervous about me being in the house with you alone, then what is it?”
I look up at him and bat my eyelashes. “Don’t make me say it.”
He tips his head back and laughs really loud. “Say what?”
I shove him out of my way and walk down the hall. “You cannot possibly be that dense.”
He follows me into the kitchen, still chuckling. I expect him to continue teasing me, which is why I squeak with surprise when his arms come around me from behind.
He leans down and puts his mouth near my neck. “Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.”
Shivers move over my entire body, making goosebumps stand up on my skin. I can barely speak, my voice coming out a mere whisper. “I know you won’t.” Suddenly I’m jelly inside. I can barely stand on my own.
I’m staring at the inside of my refrigerator, but I don’t see anything there. Not the wine or the other things I bought to have for dinner over the next couple days. My vision has gone blurry with all of my body focused on the sensations he’s creating with his hands. They’re so huge!
His right hand is open and resting on my stomach; it covers the entire thing, creating the sensation that I’m this tiny person in his big, strong arms. I love it! His other hand is on my hip, his fingers pressing into that small space just in front of my hipbone. So intimate. God, I want him so badly!
“If you don’t like this, you need to tell me,” he says in a deeply gruff voice.
I shake my head vigorously but say nothing. I don’t trust myself to speak. I’m liable to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, which will no doubt be way too heavy for this occasion. We’re just having fun. We’re two single parents without their kids for a change, goofing around in an empty house. It’s almost like we’re teenagers again, and our parents have gone away for the weekend. Dev has managed to turn back time for me. It’s a gift on several levels.
He uses the pressure from his hands to turn me around. I’m afraid to look up at him, but I do it anyway. He’s impossibly tall and impossibly handsome. I can’t believe he’s here with me.
“You are so beautiful,” he says.
I smile, charmed by the almost innocent look on his face. “I think that sweet tea went right to your head.”
I expect him to smile, but he doesn’t. He looks as serious as a man can be. “Oh, no. I have all my faculties and perfect vision. I feel very lucky tonight.”
Who feels like a million bucks? Me. I do.