Not Safe for Work(83)

And when he opened the front door and appeared, dressed down and smiling and every inch the man whose pleasure was worth the funk I was in, my heart sped up. I got out of the car and started up the walk. He smiled. I smiled. Just him and me for the night, with no work bullshit, no pressure and nothing but downtime so I could bounce back from the weekend? Oh hell yes.

“Hey,” he said as I came up the steps. “Feeling any better?”

“I am now.” I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my lips to his. Fuck. Yes. If he thought I’d made it up to him when work kept me out of his bed for far too long, he had no idea how much I intended to make it up to him this time.

Anything you want, Rick. Anything. Just keep kissing me like this.

As we drew apart, I said, “We never do make it past your front door, do we?”

“We don’t. I’m actually starting to get turned on every time I see my own front steps.”

I laughed. “Classical conditioning at its finest.”

“Yes indeed.” He gestured for me to go ahead. “Come on in.” In the foyer, he took my overnight bag. “I’ll put this in the bedroom. Go ahead and make yourself at home in the living room.”

I lifted myself up and kissed him again. “You’re the best.”

While he went upstairs, I followed the long hallway to the living room. God, but that couch looked tempting as hell—plush suede, overstuffed cushions, the kind of sofa we could both lounge on without even touching if we wanted to.

Right. As if I’d ever want to lounge on anything without being able to touch Rick. Even lying in my own bed alone was starting to feel weird.

Halfway to the couch, I stopped in my tracks. It was starting to feel weird, wasn’t it? We hadn’t spent all that many nights together thanks to work, but after that handful of nights, the damage was done. There may as well have been an indentation in my mattress where he’d slept a few times, and one in his where I’d spent a few blissful nights.

“Something wrong?”

His voice scared me half out of my skin, and I spun around.

“Huh? I—” Well. Way to save face. I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just trying to remember if I brought everything I needed for tonight.” Eh, good enough.

Rick shrugged. “Anything you’re missing, I probably have extras, and there’s a Walgreens down the road anyway.”

“Oh.” I rolled my shoulders, wondering when they’d become so tense. “Well. Guess I’m set, then.”

If he saw through me, he didn’t let it show. “So, you game for a movie or something?”

“Definitely.”

“Something to drink?”

“I’m okay. Any booze will put me to sleep, and caffeine will have me way too wired.”

Rick wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. I hate that. When you’re too tired for an upper or a downer.”

“Yep, exactly. Give me a little time—I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” He put an arm around my waist and kissed me. Then he gestured at the couch. “After you.”

One more kiss, and we moved to the couch. My initial impression was right on the money—this was the most comfortable sofa on the planet. Soft enough that I never wanted to get up, firm enough to keep my elderly spine from caving in on itself. Perfect.

Rick picked up the remote off the coffee table and clicked on the TV. “If I don’t have the show or movie you’re looking for, it doesn’t exist.”

“Hmm. Challenge accepted.”

Rick laughed and clicked the Browse feature. “Game on.”

He started scrolling. Wow, he was right. He really did have everything. Cheesy science fiction. Comedy. Horror. Bad horror. Stupid horror. Funny horror.

“You like horror, don’t you?” I asked as he scrolled through that very, very long list.

“Gets my mind off work.”

I glanced at him. “Really? That’s how you decompress after work?”

“Why not?” He shrugged. “It’s cathartic. And believe me, you don’t spend much time thinking about investors and city planning ordinances when you’re holding your breath through The Amityville Horror.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You want to watch—”

“No, thank you. Nothing that’ll keep me awake.”

He chuckled. “Okay, how about some comedy. I think I have a few dozen sitcoms.”

“Good. Stupid sitcoms are always good for unwinding.”

“They so are. Let’s see, what do—”

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up.”

“Hmm?”

“Back up.”

He scrolled up again. “What?”

“Is that…is that the complete series of Golden Girls?”

Rick’s cheeks colored, and he laughed sheepishly. “Uh, maybe.”

I threw him a pointed look.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “It’s the complete series of Golden Girls.”

“Well, that settles what we’re watching tonight.”

His eyebrows jumped. “You’re a fan?”

“You’re surprised?”

“Hmm. Good point.”