The Feel Good Factor(38)

“I do like him, but it doesn’t matter since I don’t want any entanglements, nor does he.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. We’re both on the same page. We don’t want more.”

“That’s what we say until we do want more,” Vanessa says, softly and wisely. Too wisely perhaps.

“But right now, I don’t. Plus, I’ve got my eyes on the prize,” I say, waving my hand behind me at the station, thinking briefly of Elias and his efforts to land the promotion. For a second, I want to tell Vanessa how it makes me feel, but I’m also all feeling-ed out right now.

I point to the olive shop. “Now, olives—those I can’t resist.” I grab her arm and head into the shop. “It’s your turn. Have you picked a fabulous cause for your part of our bet?”

Vanessa nods excitedly. “Wine and bowling!”

“Is bowling better with wine?”

“Everything is better with wine. I’m teaming up with one of the vineyards for my bowling competition fundraiser. A little wine-tasting along with going for strikes. All the funds will be used to help local animal shelters with the fire rescue relief.”

“Damn. Now I want you to win.”

She smiles. “But really, we all win.”

“That might be the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said. But also the sweetest,” I say, then I buy some olives and head home, curious if Derek will be there when I arrive. I didn’t see him last night because our work schedules clashed, but perhaps tonight will be different.

But even if I don’t see him, I’ll be fine. I don’t want more.

I say it again to drive the point home.





21





Perri





I pull up to my house. Has he left me a note today? If there’s one inside, will it make my stomach flip?

I look in the rearview mirror. “Settle down, lady cakes. You don’t need a note. You don’t need a man. You don’t need a thing.”

When I’m inside, I avoid the kitchen. I head to my bedroom to shower and change. After considering yoga pants again, I opt for a summery skirt instead, adding a tank top to keep it casual. Perusing the outfit in the mirror, I decide I’ve pulled it off. When I check the time, I’ve successfully distracted myself for five minutes.

I head to the kitchen, looking for a love letter.

I mean, hunting for something easy to make to eat.

The first thing I see isn’t food.

It’s a note, and it gives me goose bumps.



This is your fair warning, not that you deserve it. But I plan to test your resistance shortly.

With another type of kiss.





I close my eyes, wishing, hoping. The hope dashes through me, warring with my resolve. When I open my eyes, Derek’s here, in the kitchen, wearing next to nothing.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Walk around like a cat. I didn’t hear you.”

He points to his feet. “It’s called no shoes.”

“Still, you’re so quiet. You’re like a Tesla.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

I stare at him, wishing I didn’t like the view so much. Attraction is so annoying. He wears basketball shorts and nothing else. My temperature rises, along with my frustration. “I thought we agreed it made no sense for anything more to happen.”

“What makes you think something is going to happen?”

“Because you’re . . .” I flap my hand at him.

“Shirtless?”

“Yes. You’re so shirtless, and so ripped, and it’s so not fair.”

He laughs. “I didn’t realize you were so tempted.”

“You’re tempting, and you know it.”

“Want me to put a shirt on?”

“Yes. No. Whatever.”

“Excellent. That’s what I was looking for.”

“To mess with my head?”

His eyes stroll up and down my body. “Your fantastic head, your lush mouth, your sexy-as-sin body. The whole package, kitten.”

“Why do you want to mess with me?”

“I just want to practice.” He takes my hand and places a soft, tender kiss on the top of it. That kiss has the audacity to send shivers through me.

“Hand kissing?” I tremble.

“It’s an old-fashioned art, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” I say, trying to keep a stony face. But there’s nothing old-fashioned about my response. My lady parts are dancing the hula and they want a luau with him.

“How was your day?”

I blink at his one-eighty. Are we how was your day people? “Are you really asking how my day was?”

He smiles as he reaches into the fridge, grabbing bread, fresh slices of turkey, and tomatoes. “I’m really asking. Mine was delightful, by the way. I spent it with the rug rats while Jodie prepped for the market tomorrow. Took them to the Charles Schulz Museum. Molly loved it. That dude could draw.”

I love that place, and I’m tickled that Molly did too.

“Isn’t it amazing how he could bring Snoopy and Charlie Brown to life with just line drawings? That museum is cooler than you’d expect.”