Page 2 of Safe With Me
His brows went up, and his bottle paused halfway to his mouth. “My deal?”
“Yeah, your deal.” I took a long sip and studied him, his ruffled hair at odds with the neatly professional gray suit. He hadn’t even loosened his tie at dinner, and I hadn’t accomplished much to rumple him during our short elevator makeout session. I waved the bottle again in an expansive circle. “You’re a big old flirt until we start going out for real, then you’re about as stiff as my grandma’s hair after Hope blasts her with a whole can of hairspray. It’s like you’re the used car salesman of dating.”
“I’m the used car salesman of dating.” His mouth twisted, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. He nodded once. “Maybe.”
“So what’s the deal?” I wriggled into a more comfortable position. This was actually kinda fun, at least more fun that talking about Atlanta traffic across the dinner table. “You’re gayand in the closet and don’t want your mama to know? You’re secretly in love with someone else and pining? What?”
A bark of surprised laughter passed his lips, and he coughed on the sip of beer he’d just taken. A grin lit him up, and I swallowed a sigh. Now,thatman could possibly be my future husband except I’d already figured out the taciturn one was who he was with me. I wasn’t his future wife, at all.
“I’m not gay, and Mama would be okay with it if I were. I’m not . . . pining . . . for anyone.”
What a liar. The way that grin faltered, he was definitely pining for somebody, or at least the idea of someone, and I wanted to dig into that like deep, rich garden dirt. I mean, I wouldn’t want to give up my secrets, but I kinda wanted to figure him out.
“So what? Allison Barnett messed you up so bad you can’t be real with anyone?”
His entire body went straight and tight, and a muscle flicked in his cheek. “Not talking about her.”
I snorted on a swallow. “I wouldn’t either. Every girl in school knew what she was, and there you were, following behind her, letting her lead you around by your dick. She’s a bitch and a half, and how much of a dumbass were you?”
“About a whole and three-quarters.”
I laughed. Disgruntled, he was cute as hell, and obviously, he was smart once he loosened up.
“And my last relationship was a freaking cluster.” He dragged a hand over his nape. “We were not suited.”
Propping an elbow on the window, I tilted my head onto my fist and eyed him hard. “So are you attracted to me at all or is this some kind of little game you indulge in when you’re not out playing Captain America? Or Superman, maybe. Clark Kent wore a suit and tie, right?”
“Yeah, he did, but–” He bit off the words, and a sigh shuddered up through his shoulders. “I’m attracted to you. It’s just . . . I’m . . . you’re–”
“The forever part isn’t there, and your mama raised you to be the man who does the forever thing.”
“Yeah.” He puffed out a breath, knocked back a slug of beer, and half-grinned at me, relief lightening his face. “Exactly.”
“Allow me to let you in on a little secret.” I leaned forward, lowering to a dramatic whisper. Mrs. Louella Hatcher would be soproudof my delivery. “Just because we’re not each other’s forever doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time.”
I slanted a pointed glance at the king-sized bed and its comfy, billowy, blinding-white comforter, then grinned.
He shot a look at the bed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed above the neat, perfect knot of his tie.
And I rolled my eyes. “Don’t overthink it, Lamar. You either want to or you don’t. It’s not like I’m asking for a ring, and I’m not going to go tell your mama either.”
“Can we not talk about my mama right now?” He toed out of his shoes, and my grin widened. Oh, hotdamn. I reached up to take off my earrings.
“Sure, darling. We can pretend Coney doesn’t even exist.” I kicked off my heels and set my beer aside.
His bottle hit the entertainment center with a thud, and he shrugged out of his jacket before loosening his tie. A giggle bubbling in my throat, I jumped up and stripped my thin sweater over my head. I liked men, I liked sex, and if he fucked like he kissed, we were in for a good time.
I was pretty sure we were in for a good time, and my instincts were normally dead on.Mymama would be horrified if she knew about my bedroom proclivities, would probably think I was Coney’s bicycle, especially since my sisters were the save-it-til-you-married type (although, for real – Raley was born seven months after Gracie married Andy and he wasnotpremature, so yeah. And Elizabeth and Jase were totally sleeping together). I was more like Coney’s unicycle – a man had to be experienced and practiced and not everyone got a ride.
His tie followed his jacket, my jeans followed my sweater, and what followed was the first time in what became a month-or-so dalliance. We’d meet up in Columbus on the weekend, have pizza or a burger and a beer, then wreck a king-sized bed at the Marriott. No pressure, no expectations, just a little conversation and a lot of pleasure . . . because the man was a quick learner about what I liked and great at more than kissing.
He talked some, about his last girlfriend, the one he’d met as a blind date through a friend, who’d been smart and accomplished but exacting and critical and all wrong for him. And how he liked his job but the pressure to perform well on his current caseload – something to do with a human trafficking task force in Atlanta – pressed in on him at times. His mama wanted him married off, to Holly Callahan of all people, and I laughed because that was never happening. He wanted a family, though. He badly wanted a dog but worked long hours and didn’t want to leave it alone, and that was really sweet. He was really sweet, really funny and smart, and damn it, I was kind of sad that I couldn’t fall in love with him.
Because he was good in bed and a good man, raised to be the kind of man who did forever well, and I wanted that. I did. At some point, when the time and the man were right.
Too bad he wasn’t.
I probably didn’t talk as much. Maybe about Daddy and the store, about small town life in Coney, about being an aunt to Gracie’s kids and being excited about her new baby. Maybeabout wanting to have a family of my own one day, but not finding the right guy.
