Merry and Bright(37)

“Oh, yeah,” Ben said, and headed out.

Lori grabbed her bin of cleaning supplies and followed him.

Danny walked toward Hope, who was dumping leftover breakfast dishes into the sink. “I’ve already proven that I can do dishes,” he said. “Let me do those for you.” He gave her a nudge but she didn’t move out of the way. “What’s the matter, you can’t give up the control enough to even let me help with dishes?”

“Hey, I’m not that much of a control freak.”

“No?”

“No.” She turned to the sink and turned on the water. “Give me some room, Genius Boy. Or should I say Runs Naked Genius Boy?”

“I thought there’d been an earthquake,” he repeated on a sigh as she laughed.

“Yes, and you were trying to save me.”

“Yes,” he said as she once again tried to nudge him away. “You could just go do something else.” He reached for the dish soap.

“I could,” she agreed, but didn’t move.

“Maybe you want to be this close to me.”

“I don’t do close.”

“Because you’ve been burned.” He met her surprised gaze. “Right?”

“Right,” she admitted.

“How?”

“Two exes, both *s if you must know.”

“They hurt you?”

“Not physically, no. One stole my heart, the other my money. There’s nothing left of either.”

“I’m sorry. About both.”

“Truthfully? The money thing hurts a lot more than the heart thing.”

“Which means maybe it was never really available for him to steal in the first place.”

She stared at him. “Huh?”

“Maybe he didn’t steal your heart at all. Maybe he just bruised it.”

She thought about that as she dug into the dishes at his side, him washing, her rinsing and drying, and when she didn’t say anything more, he figured that was the end of that conversation.

“Okay, you might be right,” she finally said. “No one’s stolen my heart, it just got run over a few times. I can’t tell you how much better that makes me feel.”

He laughed softly at her sarcasm. “Hey, unless you’ve been screwed over, you can’t appreciate the good stuff. Consider it a rite of passage.”

She cocked her head at him. “Have you been screwed over?”

He thought of all the girls in high school and college who’d dismissed him as a nerd. And the women since, none of whom had stuck. “I invented being screwed over.”

She shook her head. “Are you trying to tell me you’re a player, Danny?”

He laughed. “The only thing I play with any skill is Guitar Hero. All I’m saying is that we’ve all been hurt. Everyone has baggage. You getting ripped off by your ex is a crime, but it happens. It’s how you move on with what you know now.”

She arched a brow. “And what do I know now?”

“Admit your taste in men sucks.”

She laughed, as he’d hoped she would. “So you’re suggesting a change in men?” she asked.

“Most definitely.”

“Any ideas?”

“As a matter of fact . . .”

Her laughing gaze met his. “Let me guess, I should try a nerdy brainiac who’s attempting to ruin my world?”

“More like a nerdy brainiac—a very sexy one, by the way—who’s going to do his best to help you stay in control of your world.”

“Funny, but I’ve never considered nerdy brainiacs all that sexy.”

“Maybe you haven’t met the right ones.” He waggled a brow, stood up a little straighter, and flexed.

Which cracked her up as she slid another dish into the sink. The angle of the plate caught the stream of water and sprayed him in the chest. At first, he thought it was an accident, but then she did it again.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

Sorry, his ass. He pulled the wet plate from the sink and set it on the counter. “You don’t want to take me on, Hope.”

“No?” She grabbed another plate, but he was quick, reaching his arms around her and bracketing her wrists with his hands.

“Okay, you’re good,” she admitted. “But so am I.”

“Are you?” He shifted as she wriggled, pressing her between the counter and his body so that her back was plastered up against his front, her very sweet ass solid to his crotch.

At the realization, she went still.

So did he. Well every part of him except one certain part.

“Danny?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounded like his vocal cords had been roughed up with sandpaper.

The moment stretched out, humming with tension that was no longer temper or good humor, but something far more dangerous, and Hope let out a low breath. “What are we doing?”

No clue.

He turned her to face him. She looked up at him, her face quiet and solemn, but there inside the watchfulness was something else, something he’d needed to see.

Desire.

Hunger.

And her conflict over feeling those things.

Slowly he reached out for her, and just as slowly, lifted her up against him.