He nodded. “Being with you is…different. You make me laugh. I don’t laugh a lot. My life hasn’t always been great. I’m good now. But I’m messed up when it comes to people.” His expression turned flat, and she hated that he seemed down on himself
“I don’t think you’re messed up.”
“You don’t?”
“Well, you’re a little tactless. And you say what you feel. But that’s not such a bad thing. I’d much rather be with someone who’s honest than a charming liar.” Then she blushed. “Not that we’re together. I just meant—”
“I know what you meant.” He smiled. “So, if you’re okay with us being honest with each other, and the fact I want you like crazy doesn’t bother you, maybe we could slow down and get to know each other before I bang your brains out.”
She grew tingly just thinking about it. “You know I’m going to be thinking about that all the time now. The banging, I mean.”
“Good. I shouldn’t be the only one suffering.”
She gazed down at his erection and swallowed. “Oh.”
“Tell you what. While I’m suffering from blue balls every night, and you’re all hot and bothered over in your apartment, we can take our time getting to know each other. Then, when you feel like you can handle me, you tell me when.”
“When?”
“When I can fuck you.”
She felt so warm. “Or make love to me?”
“Erin, call it anything you want, and I’ll do it. But you have to decide. I’m already there. I’ll bend you over the couch right now if you say the word.”
She wanted to, so badly. But the old Erin remained, wanting a connection with the person she gave her body to. And she refused to feel badly about that either. Her life was her own. And not her parents or Grandma Freddy or anyone could tell her that her decisions were wrong.
“Okay.”
He gaped. “Okay?”
Realizing how he’d interpreted that, she stammered, “S-sorry. Not about the couch, I meant about letting you know when. And there will be a when. I just need to know you.” She blushed. “I’m naïve and small town, aren’t I?”
“I think you’re sweet.”
“Ugh. And nice. And the girl next door.” She crossed her eyes. “I’ve heard it all before.”
“Well, girl next door, unless you want me to remind you how sweet I find you, with my head between your legs, I’d suggest we change the subject. How do you feel about making out? Is that okay to do before you say when?”
She felt excited, happy and ready for the next step. With Smith, who hadn’t called her a throwback or old fashioned because she wanted to wait. “I think that’s doable.”
He groaned. “Don’t say doable. You’re doable. Fuck. Let’s watch TV or something before I forget I’m only allowed to stay above the neck.”
She grinned. “Well, now. I didn’t say that. Maybe just above the waist.”
His eyes brightened. Dessert happened on the couch. And the lemon meltaways came much, much later.
Chapter Eight
Smith hadn’t felt so good in ages. Hell, maybe in forever.
His date with Erin had been amazing so far. They’d been together for two hours, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much nonsexual, nonviolent fun with anyone. Better than fucking, fighting, or tossing live grenades, Erin’s laughter invited him to partake in her joy.
He saw the city through her eyes. The dirt of the streets and sidewalks, the beauty of the many cultures and varied people, the scents of homemade pierogies and seafood chowder. Men throwing fish around while customers ordered. Her amber-eyed gaze took in everything. He’d offered to buy her something to eat, a pair of earrings she’d stared at a little too long in the market, and even a cool hair band she seemed to like, but she’d refused.
She just liked to look and take everything in, she’d said. Personally, he thought she counted all her pennies before she made a purchase and had no plans on being without. A frugal woman, and one he’d come to respect more and more. She didn’t make fun of him for loathing chocolate, though she did say she felt sorry for him.
“Do you hate all sweets? You can’t, because you ate my cookies.”
