I shake my head and laugh. “I’m sure. Besides, if this sauce was a proposal, then I would be asking you all to marry me, and I’m afraid I’m not interested in a reverse harem. There are way too many dicks involved, and I’m sorry, but those things are way more trouble than they’re worth.”
The sound of choking cuts through the chatter in the room, and we all turn to see the culprit. Nick’s face turns red as he coughs into a napkin. “Wrong pipe,” he says with another cough.
How is it that the man looks sexy even while he’s choking? It’s not fair. Here I am, hair frizzy and wild, my thick glasses smeared with fingerprints, my butt testing the stretch of my black leggings, and Nick still looks amazing even while doing his best not to choke on his chicken.
Heh, choke his chicken.
The crude joke jumps into my head unbidden accompanied with a not suitable for public consumption image of a naked Nick stroking himself, and my cheeks ignite with flame before I can stop them. Nick’s eyes go hot as he looks at me, lit fromwithin like he can see my thoughts, and suddenly it’s a hundred degrees hotter in here. I grab the collar of my t-shirt and use it to fan myself. This attraction is becoming an inconvenience.
I should go.
“I should go. Chloe has a window to paint in town, so I need to get back. Not that I expect it to be busy. I’ll probably only see Wade tonight.”
“Wade?” Nick asks. “Wade Biddescombe, the realtor?”
I nod. “He’s also my landlord. And my best customer. He comes in pretty much every day. I need to ask him to change the light over my apartment door so I can’t miss him. You’d be surprised how dark those stairs are at night.”
Nick nods, looking thoughtful. “If you don’t see him, I could stop by and change it for you. Here, give me your phone.” He takes my phone and adds his number. “Just let me know. I do owe you, after all.”
As much as I don’t want to admit it, Chloe scared me last night, and having that light out worries me. However, I remembered to close my door today, so peeing myself wasn’t altogether in vain. So despite it going against all my independent instincts, I nod. “That would be nice, thank you. I’ll let you know if I need your help.”
Nick walks me to the gym’s entrance, and again I’m impressed by Chloe’s mural. I need to make some time to come by and find myself in it. I’m sure if she painted Mr. Landon and Merethe, she put me in there somewhere, too. I wonder what I look like as a duck?
“Thanks again for all of your help,” Nick says. “I know I dropped the ball on the food for this retreat, but you’re really saving my ass.”
My cheeks flush again. I purposely walked ahead of Nick to keep his ass out of my line of sight, and now he’s bringing it up?Doesn’t he know I’m three seconds away from using it to pull him against me?
“You’re paying me,” I say on a breath. “That’s all the thanks I need.”
“Nah. I owe you. Paying you and changing a light bulb won’t be enough. Don’t worry,” he says with a wink that I feel in my core. “I’ll think of something.”
He places his hand on the small of my back and walks me outside, the heat from his palm burning through my shirt, then waits at the door until I’m in my car. With a wave, he turns and goes back inside, giving me a parting view of that amazing ass.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I blow out a breath and melt into my seat.
It’s been years since I’ve felt this level of attraction for a man. I’ve never had urges to grab one’s ass like this, either.
What is Nick doing to me?
The only thing stopping me from acting on these impulses is knowing that despite the bit of flirting he’s been doing, he’s not actually interested in me. And thank goodness for that. Because if Nick gave me even the slightest hint that he wasreallyinterested, I’d be stripping off those tiny shorts of his and riding him into next week.
“Thanks for dinner, Valentina.”My landlord, Wade Biddescombe, waves his goodbye from the door of Wings and Pizza and heads out into the dark street. He always calls me Valentina, like everyone in the neighborhood did when I was a kid. It’s one of the reasons I’m positive Wade Biddescombe isactually the man I used to call Uncle Gianni, despite neither of us ever broaching the subject.
“See you tomorrow,” I yell as the door drifts shut behind him.
If you ask any person my age who grew up in my Boston neighborhood what their favorite memory is, nine times out of ten it features a visit from Uncle Gianni on a stiflingly hot summer’s day and a fire hydrant that somehow spontaneously sprayed its ice cold water into the street shortly after he walked by. Not one kid or adult would ever admit to seeing him do it, but we all knew Uncle Gianni was the reason for that brief reprieve from the summer heat. Somehow, even though he was in town to attend to some mobster business that I was too young to understand, he always did something to help out the kids in the neighborhood.
So why am I letting him leave without asking for help with changing the light above my stairs? Because I’m weak, that’s why.
Ever since I left Nick at the gym, he’s the only thing I’ve thought about. Nick and that hot look he gave me right before I left. Nick enjoying my cooking. Nick in his tiny shorts. Nick’s hand on my back as he walked me out. Nick naked and stroking himself. That last one has been an exceptionally persistent vision, much to my consternation. Do you know how hard it is to focus on cooking and cleaning when you have a sexy naked man in your head who won’t stop waving (what I’m imagining is) his impressive dick at you? It’s damn near impossible.
I allowed Wade to walk out of here without asking him about the light, so I can use the opportunity to call Nick and take him up on his offer to help change my light bulb. You see, throughout this evening of being tortured by fantasies of Nick, I came up with a brilliant plan. I’ll get him over here under the guise of needing help with the light, seduce him, sleep with him,get him out of my system, and send him on his way. It will be your classic wham, bam, thank you sexy man situation. Then I’ll finally be able to concentrate.
It’s not that I mind having thoughts of a naked Nick running through my mind. Not really. But I would prefer if they would choose more appropriate times to pop into my head, like when I’m in bed, or in the shower. There’s not much worse than being turned on and having to work another ten hours before you can do something about it.
I pull my phone out and open the contacts.Here goes nothing.I press the screen to initiate the call, holding my breath while it rings through in my ear.
“Hey, Tina. I was just thinking about you.”
