The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(66)
2 8-Inch Pie Crusts
1/4 Tsp. Vanilla
2 Packages Dream Whip
1/2 Cup Pecans
1 Cup Pineapple – drained
Cream butter, sugar, egg, salt, and vanilla. Fill pie crusts with mixture. Follow directions on box and whip Dream Whip. Add pineapple and nuts to Dream Whip. Spoon into pies. Chill.
Clarissa
“It’s supposed to snow tonight,” I say folding some wrapping paper against a box.
“That’s cool.”
“It will be Dante’s first White Christmas.”
“I wish I would have known. I would have ordered a sled.”
“I’ve got cookie sheets that’ll work just fine, Mr. Engineer.”
He grins. “That’ll work too.”
Troy glances down at the directions before grabbing a training wheel and adding it to the bike he’s been constructing for the last fifteen minutes. I secure the last piece of tape on one of Santa’s gifts before arranging it beneath the tree.
“Need any help?” I slide over to where he sits in the middle of the living room.
“Sure,” he says absently. “Hand me that snap driver.”
“Got it,” I say, sorting through his toolbox. The toolbox he bought when he decided I needed a few repairs around the house. Since our night of home movies weeks ago, his season ended with only one more win killing all hopes of Texas Grand making the playoffs. And because he’s on winter break from school, he’s been pushing himself harder than ever. He’s restless, nervous about the invite to the NFL Combine, and no amount of assurance on my part seems to help. His whole future rides on the next few months, and so he’s been spending endless hours at the gym during the day before working the extra shifts he’s picked up at night. He’s bulked up, and it shows. His clothes cling to him, perfectly accentuating his insane build. He’s in a cream sweater and dark jeans and looks fucking mouthwatering. We’ve barely had any time alone since our almost kiss, and I can’t stop thinking about what might have happened if Parker hadn’t interrupted the moment. Since then, it’s been lingering looks, and too brief kisses goodnight once he’s tucked Dante in. Tonight, I decided to pull out all the big guns, wearing a set of red silk pajamas and only a red thong beneath.
I’m waxed, spritzed, and buffed, in hopes of something other than a PG kiss goodnight. I have no idea where we stand, but I’m teetering on the brink of madness at this point.
“You know what a snap driver is, don’t you?” Troy prompts from where he sits as I sort through the endless box of tools giving him a clear shot of cleavage through my silky top.
“Of course, I do.” I have absolutely no idea what the hell a snap driver is. But I damn sure won’t tell him that as I take my time, glancing between him and the toolbox. He doesn’t so much as look my way as I scrutinize every tool.
“Then you are aware it’s a figment of my imagination.” He chuckles as I look up and see his movie star grin before narrowing my eyes.
“You dick.”
“Sorry, couldn’t resist. So, I guess having me around has come in handy?”
“Don’t go fishing for compliments after insulting a woman’s intelligence.”
“You’re the smartest woman I know,” he says easily as he tests the wheels on the bike before flipping it over and unlatching the kickstand.
“What?”
He studies the bike after weighing my expression. “It’s good, I swear, and I got the dorky ass helmet you demanded and knee pads.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m his—”
“I mean for that compliment.”
“Oh,” he waves his hand. “Well, you are.”
“It’s nice of you to say.”
“Well, I mean it.”
I yawn, and he stands.
“Tired, huh?” He looks at the clock. “This is normally the time I get ready for work.”
“How can you stand it?”
“Sometimes, I can’t. I’ll be happy when I have one job, even if it looks like it’s going to be UPS.”
“Troy, you’ll get drafted. There’s so much talk, and you had a spectacular season despite the way it ended.”
He shakes his head, his disappointment evident. “Let’s not go there tonight, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.” I perk up for his sake. “Hey, you want some eggnog?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Coffee?”
Tea? Me?
I’m doting on him like a lovesick teenager, but I can’t seem to help myself.
“I’m good,” he repeats, grabbing another box and pulling out the contents. “This is fun,” he says, opening another set of directions.
“Never has been for me. I’m thankful you’re here. I used to have a hell of a time doing this alone. Parker would sometimes help when she was home, but she usually just dictated while I pulled my hair out. And the irony is Dante is so good at this kind of stuff. Now I see where he gets it. I’m glad you’re here.”
“You said that,” he looks over to me as he rips open the plastic, and for that brief moment, I swear I see a flash of heat in his eyes. However, just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone.