Junkyard Dog(33)

“You’re kidding me,” I mutter, frowning at her.

“They own my heart.”

“Is there room for anyone else in there?”

Shrugging, Candy divides the food on her plate into what she’ll eat here and what she’ll take home.

Eager to change the subject, I say, “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you eat it all now.”

Candy considers my offer and then smiles. “I want to say yes, but I really don’t want you to win, so I choose no.”

“Resistance is futile.”

“That’s a geek saying. Are you a big comic book reading, Star Trek watching geek?”

“Is that a real question?”

“Sure. You could be secretly into something weird like collecting gnomes or ventriloquism.”

“What if I was?” I ask, thinking about the gnomes on my front lawn.

“I’d still be sweet on you.”

The twins made gagging sounds before laughing at us. I roll my eyes, but they’re likable kids. Neither one has tried to touch me or messed with my food. I admit I don’t know shit about kids, but I have a lot of fears about my food getting drooled on by a tiny, crazed person.

By dessert, I can almost imagine seeing these kids on a regular basis. I’m not to the point where I want to play step-daddy. Hell, I haven’t even f*cked Candy, let alone started calling her “girlfriend” rather than “hot assistant.” The idea of domestication doesn’t’ terrify me as much as in the past.

When we arrive at the house, the kids show me the kitty litter. They’re psyched about a cat. I don’t care about that part, but I do like how they want me to be psyched too.

“I like your kids,” I say after they’re in bed, and Candy sits on the couch with me. “They’re not like other kids.”

“You have a very baby-centric view of kids. Once they pass a certain age, they don’t scream so much or stink up the place.”

Smiling, I wonder what she’s thinking. Her expression is completely unreadable.

“Do you want to give me an heir?” I ask.

“Maybe. I always assumed I was done after the twins, but I guess I could have one giant baby.” Candy grins and stands up. “Do you know what I’m thinking?”

“That you want me to leave?”

“You’re no mind reader, Mister Hayes.”

“Fine, then give me a hint.”

“Remember the last week at the office when I brought you the plans for the Highland house?”

I think back to that day. I’ve just caught up to her point when Candy straddles me.

“Sitting on your lap like that was so unprofessional.”

My hands wrap around her waist, and I inhale her sweet scent. When our lips meet, Candy tastes like barbecue sauce. I wrap her tighter in my arms until I doubt she can breathe. Candy doesn’t complain. Her hands cup my face, and her lips meet my hunger.

I’ve missed this woman too much to pretend she’s a fling. I don’t know if I’m capable of love, but our future is my next challenge.

Candy pulls her lips away from mine, long enough to study my face. Her gaze is desperate and primal. I suspect hers mirrors mine.

“When was the last time you were with a woman?” she asks in a shaky voice.

“Fifteen minutes before I picked you up for dinner.”

Candy frowns at me, and I know that disapproving look.

“Why do you have to be an *?”

“That’s my comfort zone.”

“Comfort? You’re f*cking kidding, right? I’m taking all kinds of scary chances with you. Why can’t you put on your big boy pants and take a chance too?”

Honesty is overrated. Lies keep people off their game, but I’m not playing with Candy.

“My last lay was a few weeks before you came to work with me. It was after some * shot at my house. I was tense and figured a hard f*ck would help.”

Candy’s dark eyes study my face. “Did it?”

“No. Besides sleeping and maybe showering, f*cking is when a person is at their most vulnerable. I hate feeling exposed with people I don’t trust, and I don’t trust anyone.”

Candy’s thumbs stroke my lips. “Can you learn to trust me?”

Her lips suck on mine, and I groan against her mouth when her hips roll. I feel the heat of her * even through her jeans. My cock aches for relief. First, I want to take out my cock and let it breathe. Then I want to give my dick a taste of the sweet, hot * it craves.

“I feel like calling you Angus,” she whispers. “Is that fine?”

“I don’t give a shit,” I murmur, covering her lips with mine.

Candy’s warm body slides against mine. Frenzied, she wants to be closer, gluing herself to me.

“Angus,” she mumbles when I come up for air.

Her lips refuse to leave mine for more than a second. I think of her kids upstairs and wonder if they’ll peek on us. As much as I want Candy, I’m not looking for a quick f*ck on the couch. I know her better now. If I mess shit up with her kids, she’ll turn off her feelings toward me.

“Stop,” I say, prying her off me.

“No,” she cries, wrapping her arms around my neck.

Candy is a tough woman, but I easily detach her from me and set her on the couch.