I had just taken a sip of my drink—one called Ankles in the Air, incidentally, something that neither Noah nor I had heard of but that was apparently one of Carol’s specialties—and at Noah’s remark, I choked, coughing and trying to breathe.
“You all right there?” Noah thumped me on the back. “Did it go down the wrong pipe?”
“Clearly.” I coughed once more and took a careful breath. “Holy God, Noah, you can’t just talk about porn so casually without giving a girl warning.”
“Why not?” He looked mystified. “We’ve been talking about sex all evening.”
“Sexydrinks,” I corrected. “Totally different thing.”
“Not really.” He shook his head. “When the subject’s sex, it doesn’t really matter if it’s cocktails or porn or a hypothetical discussion. A guy’s mind is going to the same place, no matter what.”
I ventured another sip of my drink and slid Noah a sideways glance. “So . . . given your commentary on porn, I’m going to assume you watch it?”
He gave me a look that was equal parts amusement and patient exasperation. “Sweetheart, I haven’t had sex in over three years. I’m a reasonably young man in his prime. What do you think I do, play tiddlywinks?”
I snickered. “I guess not. What is tiddlywinks, anyway?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just something my mom used to say when she was being sarcastic. Like, you know, I’d say, ‘Mom, would you make me another sandwich before I go to bed?’ and she’d say, ‘Of course, I’m just sitting here playing tiddlywinks.’ But what she was actually doing was a whole lot of nothing.”
I fastened him with a reproving stare. “A whole lot of nothing after spending the day running herd on six kids and a husband and a house and cooking and cleaning, huh? If I’d been your mother, I would’ve said, ‘You’ve got two good hands, make your own damn sandwich.’”
Noah chuckled. “That’s pretty much exactly what she did say.”
“Good for her.” I drained my drink and set the glass back on the bar. “So back to this porn. Do you really watch it? Don’t you think it’s, like, degrading to women?”
His cheeks went pink, and my ovaries exploded.Damn. This man. All night he’d been unknowingly and unwittingly seducing me with his careful attention, sweet words and out-of-the-blue innuendo. I was about to melt into a puddle oftake me nowright here on this barstool.
“Actually . . .” Noah cleared his throat. “I did some research into ethical porn. I didn’t want to feel guilty about what I was doing, so I spent some time looking at different sites, reading about what the actors said and did behind the scenes, and I pay to watch films from those companies that are on the up-and-up, to the best of my knowledge.” He ventured a quick glance at me. “I’m not addicted to porn, which of course is something someone whoisprobably would say. But I don’t watch it all the time. It’s just that I’m not looking for hookups, and I’m . . . alone.”
“Hey.” I laid my hand on his arm. “No judgement here. I’m super impressed that you went to all the effort to check out what you were watching. Most guys would just googlehot sex on filmand go to town.”
“Yeah, well . . . I was brought up to respect women. I don’t love that I’m paying for porn, but I feel like it’s the best option for me, all things considered.”
“Hmmmm.” I nodded. “What about magazines or sexy books? Do you use them?”
This time, his face flushed a beet red. “Um, I did try, but having to hold onto the book while I was, ah, taking care of business—it gave me a cramp in my arm.”
I couldn’t help it. I giggled, picturing the scene, this huge man of muscles laying naked in his bed, trying to juggle a book while palming his massive—
My amusement came to an abrupt halt as I found myself imagining Noah Spencer and what might be lurking under his tight black dress pants.
Swallowing hard, I glanced away. “I think I need another drink.”
Noah slid his glass toward me. “Here. Finish mine. You look like you could use a little Screaming Orgasm.”
I brought the glass to my lips. “God, could I ever.” It was a little watered down, thanks to melting ice, but I chugged the whole thing anyway. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” His voice was threaded with amusement. “You know, it’s getting late. I should probably head up to my room—I have to get an early start in the morning.”
I nodded. “How are you getting back to town? Car service again?”
“That’s the plan. I have them set up to get me at eight so I can get to the stadium by noon.”
“The stadium? Why? I thought you couldn’t play.”
Noah shook his head. “I can’t, but I go and sit on the sidelines during games, help out the guys when I can. I’m still part of the team.”
“Oh. Of course.” I took a deep breath. “Is it too late to cancel the pick-up? Because I’d be happy to drive you home.”
