Page 78 of Not That Ridiculous

Kevin immediately put his big hands on my pecs. “I like your lack of tits,” he said. I smiled, until he added, “Which is odd, because with women, I like them big and soft.”

I was about to smack him away for that, but he shifted his grip to graze my nipples with his thumbs and I gave a shocked bleat of arousal instead.

His eyes flicked up to mine and his lips hitched. “Do you think I’m bisexual?”

“I don’t know,” I said faintly as I grabbed his wrists to pull him away. He circled his thumbs again, and again I shuddered.

“Could be pan,” Ali chimed in, strutting out of my house and sipping from a glass of water. He toasted me. “Hope you don’t mind, Charlie,” he said. “I helped myself. Come on, Kev, stop groping your man and let’s get on with this. Aren’t you supposed to be helping Griffin take his stuff to the tip later?”

“Pan? Hmm. I don’t really care what I am,” Kevin said. “Other than your boyfriend, Charlie. I am your boyfriend, right?”

“Yes?”

“Cool.” With that sorted, he pecked a quick, casual kiss to my lips, fixed my front door, and a couple of hours later, roared off to meet his friend Griffin, leaving me and Phil staring after him.

When I’d woken up this morning, I’d expected a workout with Jasper and a weekend hanging out with Phil.

I’d somehow ended up with a new front door and a boyfriend.

Weird day.

15

Once Kevin and Ali had left, I carted the salvaged metal furniture inside, swept the front steps, and spent about ten minutes opening and closing my new front door.

It swung on its hinges like a dream, gliding a whisper above the floor. It snuggled into the doorframe with a happy sigh. The latch clicked softly. The key turned with barely a flick of my wrist.

It was perfect.

I couldn’t believe I’d spent almost two years wrestling with the old door every time I went in and out of the house.

On second thought, I could.

It had been a pain in my arse, but it had functioned. Until something didn’t function, it wasn’t going to make it to the top of my list. I went in and out of the back more than the front, anyway.

I ran my hand admiringly over the flawless oak. I didn’t care how much it had cost. It was gorgeous. Kevin said he could stain it for me, or paint it that fancy Cotswolds green, or any other colour I wanted. Let him know.

While I loved the look of natural wood, I was leaning towards the green, a warm light sage.

I was definitely going to have to make a spreadsheet to stay on top of what I owed Kevin. I’d have to pay him back in instalments, but it was worth it.

I opened and shut the door one last time, and rested my back against it, closing my eyes. I was smiling like an idiot, I knew it. Ah well. There was only Phil around to see, and he wasn’t looking. He’d gone to take a nap.

When he’d left, Kevin said that he’d be back at half six—earlier if he could swing it. I refused to sit on the sofa with my knees together and hands on my lap as I awaited my deflowering twice in one day. Instead, I distracted myself by finishing up the monthly accounts, took Phil for a gentle stroll around the block, then came home and made macaroni cheese and a pan of brownies for dinner.

I’d just taken the macaroni out of the oven when the doorbell rang.

“Hi,” I said, opening the door.

Kevin smiled at me brightly. He’d had another shower—his dark-blond hair was damp again, and I could smell the soap on his skin. He’d changed into black jeans and a forest-green, long-sleeved t-shirt, and was wearing actual shoes rather than work boots or trainers. Gripping the doorframe at either side, he leaned in and kissed me. “Hello.”

“I love my door,” I said.

I love you.

“I love your door, too,” he said. He slung an arm around my waist, walked me backwards into the hall, and booted the door shut behind him.

Hecouldboot it shut behind him. No two-handed, bicep-bulging shove required.

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