Lexie: U R so bad.
Jordyn: On the contrary, I am soo good. ;)
Me: I’m with someone dark and handsome too. But he’s no stranger, and I’m not sure how safe I am.
Lexie: What? Where?
Me: Mick met me after court & convinced me to have dinner with him. It was nice being with him…too nice. Then he started to get into the past. I got spooked. Tried to escape. Combination of the rain and Mick stopped me. I’m staying at his place for the nite.
Jordyn: Holy shit! A sleepover at the sexy ex’s. I’ll expect details.
Lexie: Seriously, r u ok?
Me: Yes. There’s an extra bedroom and he’s promised to be on his best behavior. I’m just not so sure I’ll be on mine.
Jordyn: Then let yrself go and see where it leads u.
Me: To heartbreak.
Jordyn: Or to a second chance.
Lexie: See u do have some romance in that horny little body.
Jordyn: Speaking of horny, Dark & Handsome is waiting. Luv u.
Lexie: Me 2.
Me: Me 3.
Taking a deep breath, I decide it’s time to go face my Dark & Handsome. After the way we left things, and as frustrated as Mick is with me, I’m not sure what mood I’ll find him in. Surly. Indifferent. Outright anger. My stomach jitters as I head down the hall to confront the unknown.
A whirring sound leads me to the entrance of a gourmet kitchen with black cabinetry and stainless steel countertops and appliances. The kind you see in home design magazines. But the main attraction is standing at the counter grinding coffee beans.
Dressed for comfort, Mick’s wearing a worn pair of jeans, frayed at the hems, and a wrinkled and faded T-shirt. He’s towel-dried his tousled, wavy hair and from his side profile, I can see he hasn’t shaved. To complete the rumpled, I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-good-and-yours look, he’s barefoot. Like the rest of him, his feet are big and well-shaped. The toes long and the nails neatly trimmed and square.
It feels intimate to be in his home watching him perform a domestic task. As if sensing me, his head suddenly turns, and he shuts off the machine. In the ensuing silence, his gaze travels up to my tangled curls, down to my face devoid of makeup, and farther down to the sweats, which I’ve rolled up at the wrists and ankles. Not exactly the picture of glamour. Nevertheless, his mouth slowly curves into a killer smile and his eyes light up.
Oh boy.Mick still has the power to rescue me from my insecurities. “Grinding your own coffee beans,” I say, making my voice breezy. “I’m impressed.”
“I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee.”
“I do. Can I help?”
“Sure,” he says, and I step all the way into the kitchen, trying not to think about what had happened in mine on Saturday night. “You can make the hot chocolate.”
“I thought we were having coffee.”
“We are. I know how much you like chocolate.”
Another detail pulled out of his arsenal of memories to weaken my defenses. “I really don’t have chocolate all that much anymore.”
His thick eyebrows arch questioningly. “How come?”
I’m not about to get into my body and food issues with Mick, so I settle for saying, “I try to eat healthy.”
That earns me another once-over from head to toe. “You look plenty healthy to me. A little chocolate isn’t going to change that.”
My face warms and my body follows. But I remind myself that it’s only eight thirty, and I’d better pace my responses to Mick. Otherwise, in less than an hour, I’ll be a mass of gooey putty in his hands.
