Page 33 of Mr. Frosty Pants
And if he kissed Casey again?
Then he’d probably be the one to initiate it. And somehow that felt too real to him. It was easier when kisses were things that happenedtohim.
Angel really did need help with the customer. The tree was awkward to fit on the top rack of the Mazda Z the middle-aged customer was driving, and by the time Joel had worked it up and started strapping it down, Casey walked out of the store with a poinsettia plant and a big smile.
“I left money for it on the counter, and I put the leftovers in the fridge in the back office,” he called as he opened the door to his SUV. “I’ll see you at six-thirty.”
Joel said nothing, returning to his work and trying to shove down the riot of emotions in his chest—explosions of anticipation and fear and anger and frustration and horniness. He couldn’t even catch his breath from one before the next began.
“So that’s what your creepy smiles were about,” Angel said from the other side of the car where she stood uselessly, grinning widely. “He’s hot, boss. Congratulations. It’s about time you got laid. How long has it been? A year?”
“Shut up and help me strap down the tree.” Joel glanced toward the customer who’d wandered off to look at wreaths. “Or see if you can sell him one of those.”
“More than a year, then,” Angel said knowingly. “I’d say it’s shocking, but then again, who’d want to sleep with a Mr. Frosty Pants like you?”
Who indeed?
Joel worked to make sure the tree wouldn’t slide off at any sudden stops or starts. Maybe Casey Stevens wanted to sleep with him, and maybe he didn’t. But if he did, and if Joel said yes, would his heart survive? He had his doubts.
He hadn’t done too well the first time Casey left him behind.
Chapter Eleven
“Bruno, down,” Joelsaid gently.
He shoved his cold hands into his jean jacket’s pockets and watched his happy, welcoming dog try to wreck Casey’s nice clean jeans. “At least his paws are good, even if his behavior’s not. Wrinkles and dog hair aren’t a big deal, but red clay mud doesn’t come out.”
They stood by the stairs leading up to the front of Joel’s mobile home, lit only by the front door lights. Bruno wriggled wildly at seeing Casey again so soon on the equally exciting heels of Joel’s arrival home from work.
“Back inside, buddy. I’ll give you something special later,” Joel promised when Bruno gave him sad eyes and trotted up the stairs. He followed him up and stuck his head in the door and saw him settle down in his bed near the entrance to the kitchen.
“If you need us to stick around here awhile for Bruno’s sake, I wouldn’t mind having a beer or something before we head out,” Casey offered.
Joel stiffened at the idea of inviting Casey into his trailer. It was messy, and he didn’t have any beer, and, okay, fine—he was embarrassed.
Casey lived in that glittering hulk across the lake and drove a freaking Lexus. The idea of inviting Casey into his two-bedroom, one-bath mobile home made Joel sweaty all over. And no matter what Casey wanted with him, or how he felt about him, or how many times he kissed him, there was no way he wouldn’t judge the way Joel lived. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
“Nah, he’s fine. Let’s go.” Joel stalked away from the trailer, hands in his pockets.
“You didn’t lock up.”
“Nothing to steal, unless they want some beat-up blue jeans and a crockpot.” Joel tweaked a smile, hoping to defuse the weirdness of his refusal to invite Casey inside. “I guess they could take my decade-old computer and Goodwill TV set. Why not? Have at it.” He reached out to jerk open the passenger side door of Casey’s Lexus. “Besides, I figure a thief will take one look at Bruno and—”
“Get cuddled and loved to death?”
Joel snorted. “Probably. That beast thinks he’s a lap dog.”
Casey smiled and rounded to the driver’s side. Joel wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and willed his fluttery gut to calm the hell down. He was just going on a date. That’s all. People did it all the time. There was nothing to be all worked up about.
“Nice ride,” he commented.
“Thanks. It was a gift from my folks. It’s not very practical in New York City between paying for parking and navigating the streets, but my parents have never cared about practical.”
“Just whether or not it’s classy,” Joel murmured.
Casey snorted again.
The drive to downtown Knoxville was quiet. Casey seemed a little tired and Joel didn’t quite know what to say either. He hoped the evening didn’t continue on this way because it was verging on awkward pretty quickly. At least Casey’s SUV had those amazing seat warmers that heated his ass up so fast that, for a second, he feared he’d somehow pissed himself. That was something.
