Dirty (Dive Bar #1)(34)

“But what if there was crazy at first sight? Because I think we have a credible basis for that.”

For a moment he just stared at me, obviously deep in thought. “I definitely thought you were crazy the first time I saw you, sitting in my shower in that dress.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And you do drive me crazy, sometimes.”

“Ditto.”

His tongue played behind his cheek. “I might be a little crazy about you too.”

“You definitely are about my breasts.”

“Your tits are world-class,” he said, hands flat on my back, pressing me harder against him.

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“It’s more of an all-of-you thing, though, on the crazy front. Just so you know.”

I could only grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leaned his forehead against mine, getting closer. “What about you? I confessed. Come on.”

“I came up with the idea in the first place.”

“Doesn’t let you off the hook.”

I groaned. “Fine. I’m crazy about you too. Crazy in all the ways the word can be taken.”

“We’ve only got a few days,” he said, bringing all of the happy crashing to earth. Suddenly the sun didn’t shine. The earth didn’t spin. Everything was f*cked.

No. I wouldn’t let it be.

“I know. I mean, I know this isn’t a permanent thing for either of us.” Something inside of me screamed denial. “It’s more of a crossing of paths on the great journey of life.”

“Right.” He kissed me lightly once more. “Doesn’t mean I’m not crazy about you.”

“I know.”

“And about what you said,” he started, gazing off over my shoulder. “I know you were trying to help. I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

His hands rubbed my back, then he set me loose, exhaling hard. “Unless you want to go hit the mattress with me right now, I better take a breather. Go finish the car, start on mowing the lawn and shit.”

I looked down. Yes, something was definitely hardening in the front of his pants. Huh. We hadn’t even used tongue. And they said romance was dead.

Time on the mattress sounded great, but while we were short on time, I also didn’t want to rush things. What if we had sex and then the build-up, the rush of all those good hormones and hopes and dreams through my, body was over? No. We needed to take it slow. Man, it was so hard to judge the ins and outs of this situation.

“I’ll let you go do your jobs,” I said in a rush, moving back from him a little.

“Okay.”

“Oh, another thing I was thinking about, though.” I put a hand on his super-hot bare chest to stall him.

He gave me a wary look.

“Relax. I was just wondering if you’d help me buy a car. You know about their insides, right?” I pawed at his chest in a totally nonsleazy subtle way. “I’m going to need wheels to escape this place.”

“Sure. Be happy to, babe.”

“Babe?” I looked at him down the length of my nose.

“Babe,” he said, resolute.

Meh. Who was I to fight him? “Fine.”





CHAPTER ELEVEN

Nell waltzed into the house late Monday afternoon, with Rosie the waitress hot on her heels. One carried booze, the other pizza boxes. Immediately my stomach rumbled in need. Pizza was just the best.

“Did I miss the part where you knocked?” Bent in half, Vaughan sat on the sofa, tying his shoelace.

“You’re funny, little brother,” said Nell breezily, dumping her box full of wine bottles on the kitchen counter. She was wearing a denim miniskirt and orange shirt. Rosie rocked a breezy blue maxi dress. Definitely not Dive Bar uniform.

“I’m serious,” said Vaughan.

“I know. That’s what makes it so amusing.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, stuffing crap into my handbag. We’d been preparing to head to work. Given the swift departure of Eric’s waitress friend, Stella, I’d agreed to fill her shifts until a replacement was found. Or until it was time for me to leave town. Whichever came first. I was wearing my best black slacks and a matching Dive Bar shirt Nell had given me the night before.

“I’m giving us the night off.” From a cabinet she pulled out three wineglasses, rinsing them beneath the tap. “Lydia, Rosie, and I are doing some girl time. Be a darling and go away, would you?”

“I really need to start locking the doors,” Vaughan muttered, stretching out on the couch. “Who’s running the bar?”

“Eric.”

“And?”

“Just Eric.” Nell beamed. It was an unnerving sight. “He’ll also be tonight’s waiter. Boyd has got the kitchen under control, but otherwise, Eric’s on his own.”

Rosie also grinned like a loon.

“Is that good for your business?” I asked without thinking, and accepting a very large glass of red. “Wait. Never mind. Forget I said that. I will not rain on people’s parades with unnecessary practicalities they can figure out for themselves.”

Over on the couch, Vaughan gave me a small smile, a look of understanding.