“Could we just hang out?” she asked. “Sit on the sofa for a while, maybe? Have another whiskey?”
“Sure.” I grabbed the bottle, relieved to have a job and glad we weren’t rushing into this. Maybe I could sneak a trip to the bathroom to take the edge off before things got too hot. Or was that creepy? I couldn’t tell.
I poured, added logs to the fire, then sat beside her, with just enough space to give her the chance to take the first step.
“You always been like this?”
I glanced at her. “Like what?”
“A gentleman.”
I grunted out a laugh. “No. Definitely not.”
“Tell me.”
“You don’t want these stories, Christa.”
“I kinda do,Micah.” There was an evil light in her eye. Sexy as hell.
“Not too proud of some of the shit I’ve done.”
“Everybody’s got skeletons, right?”
“What do you want with mine?”
“Maybe I want you to be human, instead of this ideal male of the species.”
I snorted. “Hilarious.”
“No, really. There’s like nothing wrong with you. You’re a total catch.”
“So, you need me to tell you about my asshole days?” She wanted asshole? I’d give her asshole. “I used to go out, on leave, and screw three, four women in one night. Bar bathrooms that smelled like piss. Dark, filthy alleys, cars. Wherever. How’s that for respecting women?”
“They wanted it?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Problem is that I never made any connections. Never fell in love, never gave a shit. Guys around me tied the knot, had kids, dug roots, and I just kept being an asshole.”
“You regret it now?”
This wasn’t the conversation I thought we’d be having and, suddenly, I was annoyed at her for trying to scratch the surface or get under my skin or whatever it was she was up to. “Hell if I know.”
“Who was here for you when you came home?”
“I was on my own.”
“Your sisters?”
“They’ve all got too much going on.” Every one of them, along with my parents, had tried to get me to move in with them, but I couldn’t stand the idea of being dead weight. “Last thing any of them need is one more person to take care of.”
Slowly, she nodded, her gaze steady on me as she set her glass on the table. When she came back, she got close, one knee bent between us, leaned forward and bypassed my mouth to whisper into my ear. “I think I’ve found your weakness.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep.” She inhaled against me and let out the breath on a low, happy note. “You don’t let anyone take care of you the way you take care of them. I’ll bet your muscles hurt, too, from carrying me up here? Would you let me massage you right now?”
