She took a sip of her beer, eyeballing me. “That’s a pretty cheesy line there, Mr. Marshall.”
“Ouch, so formal.” My body caved inward, like she’d socked me in the chest. “It’s like that now, huh?”
She continued to stare at me for a few minutes before shaking her head.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m still processing everything your parents said about you. Did you really prank a tampon company?”
“Yes, and it was the best thing ever. I’d get these customer service reps who were used to normal every day questions—nobody had prepared them for me—and I’d use this high-pitched nasally girl voice and would be like...” changing my voice, I continued, “Hi, my name is Betty Nickers and I’m so scared, I don’t know what to do. The string on my tampon broke and it’s stuck inside me. I keep trying to pull it out, but it’s pushing it deeper inside, and I… I like it. It feels good. I’m not… I’m not masturbating, am I?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, God, you didn’t.”
“Oh, I assure you, I did. Then I’d moan and tell them it just touched my g-spot.”
She laughed. “Scandalous. Those poor customer service reps.”
“Oh, don’t feel bad for them. That’s probably the most excitement they got all day. How boring would working at a tampon call center be? Well, I brightened their motherfuckin’ days, because by the time I hung up, they were laughing their asses off. Except for the rare humorless hardass who yelled at me and asked to speak to my parents. Fuckin’ killjoys.”
“Ohmigod, I’m so terrified of Trent’s teen years. I’m already gonna have the bill for the car door of that asshole in the grocery store parking lot. I can’t handle two-hundred-dollar prank call phone bills as well.”
“Do you have the asshole’s number?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s on my copy of the police report. Why?”
“Text it to me when you get home tomorrow and I’ll call him and see if we can’t set him up in our shop.”
She eyed me. “That’s sweet, and I appreciate the offer, but this is my mess. I need to pay for it.”
“Says who?” I asked.
She studied me for a minute before shrugging. “I have no idea, but I’m sure there’s some legalistic type loser out there making sure people pay for their own mistakes. Karma will probably bite me in the ass if I don’t handle it.”
“It was an accident, not a mistake.” I took a long drink, then set my beer on the coffee table and scooted up against her. “I want you to let me handle this. Leave this son-of-a-bitch to me. You shouldn’t have to deal with some irrational asshat cussing you out over an accident.”
“Drew…”
God, my name dripping from her lips was so fucking sexy. Her gaze kept sweeping over my body, making me so damn hard I could barely contain myself. I’d gotten her in my space, but now I wanted her in my bed. “This is what I do. I got this. And don’t worry, I can bite you on the ass if it makes you feel better.”
Smiling, she shook her head. “Always angling.”
“Yep, well, I can’t help myself around you. Don’t worry about this guy, and don’t worry about Trent, either. He’s got a good mom. He’s gonna grow up to be just fine.” I tucked a long, dark curl behind her ear before drawing my thumb across her bottom lip. “You’re both gonna be fine.”
There was gratitude and hunger in her eyes. “What makes you so sure?”
“You’re smart and cautious. And you have people like me who want to help you. You’re damn hard on yourself, and I don’t know all the shit you’ve been through, but I respect the hell out of the way you’re handling it.”
“Thank you.” She looked away.
I hooked my finger under her chin and turned her head back around to face me. “I had fun tonight, and I like having you guys here. A lot.”
Her gaze darted down to my lips, and I knew what she wanted. I wanted it too. Slowly leaning forward, my lips landed on hers. She opened up immediately, giving me access to her mouth. My tongue swept past her lips, tasting, savoring her unique sweet flavor. We’d only kissed a few times, but I felt like I’d know the feel of her soft lips anywhere. Before Carly, kisses had been strictly physical, a prelude to sex, but when our lips locked, it was so beyond physical it made every other kiss seem shallow and fake.
It wasn’t about sex; it was a fucking connection. A conversation. She wasn’t beside me, she was the goddamn air in my lungs.
Carly pulled away. “Wasp,” she breathed.
“What, sweetheart?” My hand eased up her thigh. “What do you need?”
