Chapter Eight
Wyatt
It was dusk when I pulled into Vera’s driveway. We both jumped down and started unloading the supplies, working together as if we’d been doing it for years. There wasn’t much, but I was dawdling, eager to spend just a few more minutes with her.
It was rare to find someone who enjoyed my stupid sense of humor enough to give as good as they get.
We stood in front of her open garage door, light pouring out into the driveway. “Well, thanks for today,” she said, shoving her hands into her back pockets.
“Yeah, I had fun,” I said, looking down at my scuffed boots.
“I did too.”
“You sound like the fun was unexpected,” I teased.
She laughed. “I was just stressed about getting this design done.”
“You’re a good mom,” I told her. “Doing all this to help Ben with his tuition.”
She cocked her eyebrow. “How did you know that was why I was doing this?”
“I put two and two together from my conversation with him. You raised a good kid.”
She shrugged. “I try. Doesn’t leave much time for other things, though.”
“Other things, like what?” I asked, shuffling a little closer, eager to rekindle the conversation we’d started at the restaurant.
She chewed her lower lip for a second, something that seemed out of character.
“Like spending time with a handsome man?” I asked. I was teasing. Sort of, I was also really curious about how she would answer.
She smiled. “You could say I’ve been deprived of handsome men.”
She shuffled closer this time.
“Thank goodness I came along then. Otherwise, you’d have to supersize that toy box design.”
“You haven’t replaced them yet. They can do more than look good.” Her eyes swept over me as she spoke.
“So you think I look good?”
“I do.” Her eyes raked over me in a way I could almost feel.
My breath caught. The banter had taken a turn, and it was one I was very interested in continuing. “I can do more than look good. You don’t even have to charge my battery.” She smiled at my lame joke.
We were inches away now, sharing the same air. Her hands were still in her back pockets, pushing her breasts out until they almost touched my chest. I briefly forgot every word in the English language.
“Oh yeah? What’s your first move?”
“A kiss is a nice place to start, a piece of rubber can’t do that.”
She smiled, her eyes dropping to my lips. “You’re right,” her voice was lower now. More intimate.
I brought my hand up to cup her jaw, running my thumb along her lower lip. Her skin was warm and soft under my palm. I moved forward to claim her lips, but just before contact, the door between the house and the garage flew open. “Mom, do we have any more of those energy drinks?”
Well. That was some Olympic-level bad timing.
She scratched her eyebrow and took a step away from me. My hand fell to my side. My dick gave an unhappy twitch. “Hello to you too, and you shouldn’t drink those; you’re eighteen.”
