For an extended moment, the power of speech evades me. “Oh, uh, yes. If you don’t mind.”
He chuffs out a sound that’s half-laugh, half snort and slips his coat on over the cotton T-shirt he strips down to at the end of every shift. “Mind?” He looks up, his eyes snagging mineagain mid-air. “No, Kit. I don’t mind the idea of fucking you raw again.”
I swallow that second biteful of heaven, everything suspended as I wait for whatever he’ll say next. For what he’ll do.
I want him to dosomething. Walk toward me like that caged lion, grab me, take all the difficult choices away.
“Give me your address.”
I blink. “Oh. Oh, right.” I rattle it off.
“What time?”
“Maybe, uh, five?”
He nods, slow, thoughtful, his eyes doing a quick up and down inventory of my body, my face. “See you then, Kit.”
“See you.” I’m breathless, waiting while he stands there.
“I’ll walk you to the door.”
“You don’t have to?—”
He looks at me balefully and my mouth snaps shut.
“I don’t need you to watch out for me.” I buss the empty cake plate, shut off the last light and head to the front with nothing but the parking lot lights to guide me.
“I know that.”
“You’re stubborn,” I tell him, opening the door and holding it for him to walk through. I can tell he wants to be the one to hold it, but that’s not happening. No absurd chivalry tonight.
“So are you.”
I freeze. “If you’re trying to sweet talk me, this isn’t the way to go about it, you know.”
“Not trying anything.” His shadowed smirk is slow and would be almost creepy if he weren’t so damn handsome. “Don’t need to try with you, do I?”
My belly goes unpleasantly tight. “What?”
“You’re a sure thing.” He pats his back pocket. “Got the schedule right here to prove it.”
“Geez, Jake. That’s real nice.”
“It sure is.” The smirk turns to a full-on smile as he throws his keys into the air and catches them, turns to scan the lot and then slants a look my way. “I’m like a kid at Christmas.”
With that, he takes off across the lot, his boots crunching over gravel as he goes.
I watch him for a few seconds, then catch myself staring and follow, only registering once we get close that he’s parked literally right beside my car today. In fact, I think he’s done it every day recently.
I unlock and get in, start my engine without looking his way, and finally ease out so as not to spit gravel at his windshield when I leave.
He pulls out after me, which I ignore, but when I turn right out of the lot, I give in and lift my hand in a goodbye he probably won’t even see.
I won’t let myself wish he’d follow me home tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow.
Like Christmas, he said. He sounded sarcastic, but still.
Maybe for him it’s something to look forward to. To get excited about.
