“Not really,” he said with a shrug. He’d heard more detail and way more bitterness from plenty of women in bars. “Seems reasonable to me.”
She ducked back into the bathroom. He walked back into the kitchen, plucked his damp shirt from the floor and pulled it on, then tried to deal with his socks and boots. There was a trick to getting wet socks on, one he’d mastered during BUD/S, but his goddamn fingers still weren’t cooperating. He’d just gotten the second sock on when she reappeared, the ends of her hair damp and curling, back in the bra and blouse, which looked decidedly rumpled.
“How do I look?”
“Fine. You chalk up most of it to the weather,” he said. Without answering, she wriggled into her panties, then her slacks, smoothing and fastening and straightening her shoulders to look at him. “Got another sweater?”
“I leave one at work.”
“You’ll do.”
“Dry socks,” she said, and darted back around the corner. Drawers opened, closed, then she was back, avoiding the puddles still drying on her kitchen floor to sit at the table and pull on another pair of argyle knee socks, then worked her feet into her ankle boots. “Sorry about the condoms,” she added.
He frowned. “What about the condoms?”
“I should have them. Responsible adult and all that. It’s just, this wasn’t supposed to happen just yet.”
“There was a timeline?” he asked, fascinated by this glimpse into her mind.
“Motorcycle, skydiving, then dating slash sex,” she said, and stood up.
“You want to go skydiving?”
“Yes. It’s a onetime thing, though. I don’t need another dangerous, expensive, risky hobby.”
“Pretty brave,” he said, because for most people, it was. Back when his nerves weren’t whipping around like streamers on a kid’s bike, he used to jump out of planes before breakfast.
“I’m a coward,” she said flatly and pulled on her coat. “A couple of nights on Tinder and I thought a Ducati would do less damage.”
And that was how he ended up walking away from a quickie hookup with a librarian—chuckling. He held the back door open for her, waited while she locked up, then waited some more while she opened the garage door.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” he said, and slid one arm into his coat.
She cocked her head and frowned a little. “What’s your name?”
He gaped at her, then threw back his head and laughed, the first time he’d laughed like that in a long time.
The frown sputtered through a defensive lift of her chin into laughter. “I can’t remember! Did you tell me yesterday, in the library, and I forgot because I got caught up in finding the books you needed?”
“No,” he said, half in his coat, genuinely delighted. “I don’t think I told you my name. Should I?”
“Oh, thank God,” she said.
It was like being in the middle of a firefight, in all the best ways. “What?” he said, and finished putting on his coat.
“I was worried you’d say something totally cheesy like Don’t you want to know which name to shout when you come?”
He laughed again. “Nope. Not going to say that.”
She held out her hand. “I’m Erin Kent.”
“I know. Your plate tag was on the desk last night,” he said as he shook her hand with a firm clasp, like a man’s. Was it only last night? It was. God damn. She wanted to go skydiving and ride a fucking Duc, and have sex rather than date. Based on his heart rate, the fluttering in his stomach, his body was also saying yes yes yes.
“Fine,” she said, her eyes dancing. “Be that way. I can figure it out.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said.
The correct length of time for a handshake passed, but he was still holding her hand while mist collected on her hair and his. He bit back the words on the tip of his tongue and settled for, “See you around, Erin Kent.”
Chapter Three
A few days later he was back at the library, washed up on the tide line of great sex but with nothing for the final paper he had to write. It was a little like coming down from a combat high—exhausted, sleepy, nerves jangling from the rush. If sex with Erin Kent left him as jacked up as storming a hijacked cargo ship, he’d better get to work on this paper. A security firm like Gray Wolfe wouldn’t hire him to answer the goddamn phones in this condition.