“Sweet mother of…” came a voice from behind me.
I pulled my arm down too fast and knocked the can of paint down. In my attempt to rescue the entire can and making one hell of a mess, I lost my balance. Just when I thought I was about to fall out of my New York dream, two very big hands grabbed my thighs, steadying me.
“Fuck, Country, I thought you were a goner for a moment there,” laughed Decker. As my heart pounded like a scared rabbit, I glanced down at his big hands still wrapped firmly around my thighs, right under my ass. “Well, this is nice,” he murmured with a very satisfied smile on his lips.
“I’m okay,” I said way too fast to get away with indifference to his touch.
Decker chuckled but slowly released his hold on me. “Get down from there and let me do that.”
I climbed down the ladder, and when my feet were firmly planted on the ground, I risked looking at him. Cheese and rice, the man was a walking orgasm. Dressed in a pair of tattered old jeans and a Yankees jersey pulled dangerously tight across his chest, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at how utterly perfect he looked dressed down.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I’m here to help. I’ll be your slave for a day. Put me to work because tomorrow I might not be so willing.” With a paint brush in hand, I just stared. Impatience got the better of him and he finally grabbed the brush from my hand and climbed the ladder. “The back of my car is full of shit from my dad’s. I even managed to scrounge up a second hand oven that will be dropped off later today.”
“How much?” I asked, my eyes glued to the taut, impressive ass hidden under that thin denim.
“Sixty for the oven, the building materials were all scraps bound for the trash and the tools are on loan.” He easily reached the high spot with the brush, his shirt rising just enough to give me a teasing glimpse of the smooth skin sitting between his jeans and the shirt.
“Oh,” was all my lust riddled brain could manage.
“Yoohoo, Cinderella, are you in here…” Casey’s voice trailed off, and I somehow managed to reign in a derisive snort. Casey and Lionel had been on Decker watch all week. They would have noticed him the moment he pulled onto the street. “Ohhhh, I didn’t realize you had company.” He smirked.
I rolled my eyes. “Decker, this is Casey and the one about to run through the door like an out of condition cross trainer is Lionel. They own the dog grooming business next door.”
Lionel burst through the front door, panting. Casey extended his hand which I noticed had a business card in it.
“LC’s Day Spa, for your furry four legged babies that is,” Casey said all professional-like as Decker took the card. “If your baby needs some attention, you call us.” Casey was trying too hard to sound both sexy and professional, and it came off sounding awkward.
I tried really hard not to laugh. What burst from my lips was something between a snort and a cough, and Casey gave me a your-gonna-get-it look as I tried to muffle the laughter. Lionel just rolled his eyes.
“Thanks, but I don’t have a pet.” Decker admitted. “Not that I have anything against pets; I wasn’t one of those lonely weird kids who pulled the legs off spiders and wings off flies. I had a cat.” He gave me a wink and both Casey and Lionel made loud sounds of approval.
“A * man, figures,” I heard Casey whisper.
“Was there something you guys needed?” I quickly interrupted.
They both shook their heads, their eyes falling to Decker’s ass as he turned to resume painting. Lionel elbowed Casey in the ribs.
“Oh, of course. We’re having a small get together tomorrow night. We’ve invited a few others on the street, and we think it would be a good chance for you to meet some of the locals. Perhaps you would like to come? And bring a date?” Casey said not so subtly.
Decker leaned against the wall and grinned my way. “You need a date?” he asked.
“No, I don’t need a date.” I glared at Casey. “I don’t need a date, do I?” My eyes were now beseeching Lionel who I assumed, being the older and wiser of the two, would give me a break. He in turn simply nodded.
“Of course you need a date.” My eyes darted from Lionel to Casey then back to Decker.
“I’ll be your date, Country,” Decker said with a grin.
Casey all but bounced up and down clapping his hands like one of those crazy stuffed monkeys that smash symbols together. Lionel looked proud as punch.
“Excellent. Six tomorrow and bring an appetizer,” Casey said hurriedly as Lionel hauled him towards the door. “I mean something other than your eye candy.”
I was mortified and blushing. Eventually I found the courage to look back at Decker. He was trying, unsuccessfully, to hold back laughter.
“What if I want to be the appetizer?” He laughed.