Page 14 of Hopeless Romantic
Ignoring Levi, she went back to using hostage negotiation tactics on her brother. “Your M&M’s are at the register, so we have to finish shopping in order to get your reward.”
“We could order from Amazon Prime,” Thomas said. “And it is rude to ignore a question when asked. Answering with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or ‘I’m not sure’ are all appropriate comments to use to express interest in what your friend says.”
Embarrassment pulsed hot and deep in Beckett. A normal reaction when being called out in front of a sexy guy by her kid brother—using her own words.
“Are you interested, Beck?” he asked on a soft laugh.
She snorted. “No.”Maybe. Yes.
Gah!The way he said her name made her head spin. “Can you stop smiling like that?”
Out came the dimples. Both of them. “Like what?”
“You know what.” She turned to Thomas. “And he’s not my friend.”
“Yes, he is.” Thomas dipped his chin into the curve of his neck. “He is in your personal space bubble, and you are not yelling at him to back off.”
“Give her a minute to warm up,” Levi said with a grin. “I’m Levi Rhodes, Beckett’s very good friend.” He extended his hand.
Thomas curled his hands into himself. “I am Thomas. Thomas Hayes. Beckett’s brother. I do not like to shake hands. Or fist bumps, high-fives, or any other kind of touching hands.” He lifted his leg and flexed his foot. “But I will tolerate a foot bump.”
Before Beckett could launch into an explanation, Levi lifted a foot, acting for all the world as if a footsie hello were a normal way to greet someone when meeting for the first time.
“Smart kid,” Levi said in a warm voice filled with acceptance and understanding. “I wouldn’t like shaking some old guy’s sweaty hand, either.”
“Three percent of the population experience sweaty hands. The most common causes are hormones, stress, nervousness, and excitement,” Thomas informed everybody within a one-block radius. “Which one are you experiencing?”
“I’d say a mix of the first and last,” he said, but Thomas had already turned away to pet Diesel. Leaving Beckett alone to handle the full force of Levi’s attention. “How about you? What’s putting so much color in your cheeks?”
The same thing that had her lady parts flipping that OUT OFBUSINESSsign to an optimistic APPLICANTSWELCOME. Hormones. Sex-starved hormones.
Now, Beckett would be the first to admit her morning-after etiquette could use some brushing up. Which was why she kept dating to the occasional movie night out, followed by casual, polite sex that ended with a goodnight kiss on her way out the door. There had been nothing casual or polite about Sex-Dream Levi.
Oh no, Sex-Dream Levi liked it fun and a little dirty. He knew when to take and when to give, and he’d give all night long if it meant getting the job done. A thought that she found as thrilling as she did terrifying, because Sex-Dream Levi would never settle for a goodnight kiss on the way out the door. There was no doubt in her mind that in real life, Levi would not, either.
And wasn’t that the problem? While most men could never live up to their dream selves, Beckett had a feeling that In Real Life Levi would make Sex-Dream Levi look like a bumbling amateur.
“Beck?”
She tore her gaze off his lips to find him watching her. “I’m sorry. What?”
“I didn’t catch your answer.”
“To which question?” Whether she was interested, or if her hormones made her want to do crazy, sexy things with him? To him.
“Lady’s choice.” He winked, a glimmer of amusement in his expression.
“All signs of exasperation,” she said, and he laughed.
She failed to see the humor. Or maybe she was too tired to see it. Thomas was pacing back and forth, his hands flapping by his sides; four more cars had pulled into the lot, and Levi frazzled her. If they waited much longer, this excursion would end before the cashier could ask, “Paper or plastic?”
“Where’s Pecker? Couldn’t find his cape?” Levi asked, and she barely resisted the urge to pull her own cape over her head and disappear.
“No, he’s at home.” She held up her list and pointed to the third item down. “Chicken. We’re having kabobs for dinner, and bringing Gregory along seemed a little insensitive, given his species.”
“I serve chicken at the restaurant.”
“Range-free. There’s a difference,” she lied.
