She walked back to the kitchen to find him standing, arms akimbo, waiting. “Seen enough?”
“Not yet.” She stared in awe at his kitchen. It had an L shape, plenty of counter space, and a glorious kitchen island that he probably used as a table, because in the open space where a dining table might have been sat a bunch of free weights and a weight bench instead.
The kitchen didn’t look high end. No granite counters or stainless-steel appliances, not that she would have expected those in Emerald Estates. But everything looked exceedingly clean and organized. It even smelled lemony fresh.
“Wow. You’re a clean freak.”
“I like things neat. Sue me.”
“I might.” She sighed, running a hand over his countertop. “I miss this.”
“This?”
“My kitchen. My home cooking channel is a real thing, you know. I teach people how to cook and vendors pay me—not much, I admit—to advertise on my channel. Plus, I’m creating a cookbook at some point. I hope.”
“Well, you killed the spaghetti tonight. Tilly loves bragging about your skill in the kitchen.”
They stared at each other as a sudden silence settled over them. She thought he looked to kick her out of his apartment. And Erin didn’t think she could bear the quiet, being alone and lonely tonight after being in Smith and Tilly’s company. Going out with Smith had been fun and exciting, even if he did sometimes get on her nerves.
“So, ah,” he said. “Do you,” she started at the same time.
They broke off. “You first,” he offered.
A glance at the microwave showed the hour had reached eight thirty. Did he need to get to bed early?
“Do you want to watch TV together or something? Or do you need to get to bed? I’m not keeping you up, am I?” she asked.
She’d had him “up”since he’d been forced to watch her full lips nurse those drinks at the bar. God, the woman had no business looking so innocent and putting such carnal thoughts in his brain. He didn’t know what it was about her that had him thinking about sexing her up so damn much.
“Bed?” he repeated weakly, having homed in on that one word. Sure, he’d be happy to make use of his bed. If she’d join him in it.
Unfortunately, not only was she his neighbor, a naïve sweetheart from a small town in Kansas and just getting over a broken heart, she was also buzzed. He had no doubt she’d tied one on. In just two cocktails.
He bit back the smile that threatened. Tonight she’d worn jeans and a pale blue short sleeved shirt that hugged her curves just right. Erin might be small, but she was definitely all woman. So fucking pretty, was all he could think as he stared into those bright eyes, now shadowed with uncertainty.
What had she asked him? “Oh, I don’t go to bed until closer to eleven. Um, sure. You can hang out. We could watch TV.” Or something, like Netflix and chill like fucking bunnies until dawn.Man, this is hell. Send her home and go take a cold shower.
Yet her admission that she was lonely hit him hard. He felt that way all the time. He’d just gotten better about sitting with it until the feeling passed. Although… Since working at Vets on the Go!, he had Ringo’s Bar to call a second home, the same place the gang liked to hang out on the weekends. And then there was Evan and Aunt Jane, who kept insisting he come to Sunday brunch to join her and her new beau in Bainbridge Island.
He hadn’t taken her up on that yet, but knowing he had people to spend time with, who wanted his company, filled that emptiness he’d learned to live with. Erin didn’t have anyone. While a big part of him—and growing bigger—wanted to have sex with her in the worst way, the better part of him insisted he give her a friend.
“What kind of TV do you watch?” she asked. “Military shows? You were in the Marine Corps, right?” She’d seen his last promotion framed on the wall, apparently. One of the proudest days in his life had been making Staff Sergeant in the Corps.
“Yeah, I like military shows. But I’m into all sorts of things.” Action, fantasy, porn… He cleared his throat, grateful for the constrictive jeans and long tee-shirt hiding his enthusiasm. “You pick.”
He waited for her to sit down then grabbed them both glasses of water to drink. Though two beers didn’t do much but soothe a parched throat for him, the water would help. He needed a clear head around Erin.
He handed her a glass then sat on the couch, keeping a few throw pillows between them. He liked the sectional, typically making use of the long chaise, where he liked to relax. Erin could sit on the couch. No way he could get into any trouble if he lay away from her, facing the TV. Two friendly neighbors watching mindless entertainment…
Erin watched him as she sipped, and he wanted nothing more than to be a glass of water. She put the glass down, and he stifled a groan. “No, you pick what we watch since it’s your apartment. Something fun though. No romcoms or dramas.”
“Like you have to tell me that.” He snorted. He settled on a Marvel movie on Netflix, content to watch superheroes kick ass. Considering he’d spent his youth buried in comics, living on fantasies of superpowers and being anywhere but with his “mother,” his addiction to superhero movies was a no-brainer.
She turned to him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
He felt himself relaxing for the first time since being in her presence.
