Page 23 of Man Hands
“Think of all the bad remakes!” she says, her pretty face suddenly horrified. “Remakes always flop. Everyone knows this. Hello,Psycho?” She shakes her head again at the travesty. “AndThe Bad NewsBears.”
“Hmm.” I see her point. “Point Break, too. AndDirtyDancing.”
She swallows hard. “You’ve watched the originalDirtyDancing?”
Whoops. I have to make a quick calculation—truth or lie? Seems like a bad idea to lie to the girl you’re crushing on. “Yeah. I’ve watched it way more than once. It’s like an old friend I used to know. Sometimes it’s lonely when we’re shooting in a town I don’t know. Rewatching moviesisnice.”
She puts a hand to her bosom and sighs happily, and I smile at her because it’s such a prettysight.
“Do I lose my man cardforthat?”
“No sir. The world has changed. You can keep your man card. Actually, you get a gold star on it for likingDirtyDancing.”
“Good.” I place my elbows on the table and lean closer. If those kisses I got earlier are all I can have tonight, I’ll take it. It’s probably madness for a guy who works with his hands to argue with a PhD, but I’m thinking I need to give it the old I-didn’t-make-it-through-college try. “Listen. I don’t want aremake.”
“What?” Herexpressiondims.
“You’re right. Remakes are terrible. But that was nevertheplan.”
“Itwasn’t?”
I shake my head. “This was meant to be a series, not a one-time blockbuster. Our night in the boathouse was just the…pilotepisode.”
She blinks, and I have the sudden urge to kiss hereyelashes.
I’ve gotitbad.
“Now, most people would put episode two in my king-sized bed. That’s the obvious script. We could tie your wrists to the headboard, and I could put your ankles on my shoulders and bang you into nextTuesday.”
Brynngulps.
“…but if you want the season to be a true success, we should really save that until later on. So episode two should be the kitchen counter. We could go back to my place and make something for dessert. Like, Idunno…”
“Cherry pie,” she breathes. Her cheeks are stained pink, and her pupils areblown.
“Right! You’re good at this. Cherry pie. There will be flour and stuff all over the countertops when we’re done,right?”
She nods slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. And she licks her lips alittle.
“Right. So. The pie is baking in the oven, but that takes a while. While we’re waiting for it, I kiss you. And things get a little heated, so I have to sweep the rolling pin right off the counter top—” I mime swiping everything off our table. “—and hoist you up and just do you right there while the piebakes.”
Her chest is heaving, and both her hands have a white-knuckled grip on the table. She’s definitely buying what I’mselling.
And since I’ve hit my stride—because planning killer TV shows is my calling—I just keep going. “Episode three is a shower scene. Duh. But I have this rather rough stone in my shower, and I don’t want to bruise your spine against the surface. Ouch, right? So I’ll just have to pick you up and bounce you onmydick.”
Yesss!my dickshouts.
“Hang on pal,” I tell him. I’m pretty sure I don’t say that out loud, but whatever. I’m on a roll here. “Episode four could be the bed, I suppose. But a lounge chair on the patio sounds even better. No—the hot tub! Or a bubble bath. I want to wipe soap bubbles all overyourtits…”
Holy shit. I’machingnow. My dick feels like reinforced concrete. I’ll have to invest in roomier shorts if I’m going to woo Brynn with dirty talk. And is it hotinhere?
My girl isn’t faring much better. She looks like she might burst into flames across the table. So it’s time to put us both out of our misery. “A series, Brynn. Not a remake. Let’s go back to my place and do some…” I drop my voice low. “Storyboarding.”
Wordlessly, she grabs her handbag off the back of the chair andstandsup.
I rise, rifling through my wallet. I leave a stack of bills. My truck is out in back, and Brynn’s friends dropped her off, so we don’t even have to argue about who’sdriving.
She leans into my chest when I put my arm around her as we walk toward the door. The warmth of her body against mine is crazy-making. I want this woman with every ounce of my being. Since I’m six-three and two hundred fifteen pounds, that’s a lot ofounces.
