While I understood the phone guy’s attraction to the sound of Andi’s voice and foot fetishes were the least crazy fetish going around, I found myself wanting to find the guy and introduce him to a little Steele aggression. I was also annoyed that Andi didn’t just call me in the first place, but I guess the way we last parted did leave things in an awkward limbo.
“Don’t talk crazy, Country. I’ll be there in half an hour, and I’ll drive you to his office.” I hung up before she had time to argue. I was dressed and out the door in five minutes flat. When I pulled up out front Andi’s store, she was already waiting on the curb. She was wearing a simple blue sundress that sat right under that cute little ass that I now knew was the canvas for a hot little Tinkerbell tattoo. Her customary boots were on, hair tossed into a ponytail. I noticed her toss a wave somewhere behind her as she made her way to the car. Casey and Lionel were standing at their window, resounding smiles on their faces. Glancing across the street, I noticed Imogen and Vanessa also standing at their window, watching. When Vanessa noticed my gaze, she gave me a fervent wave. I offered nothing more than a nod. I knew she was attracted to me, and I didn’t want to offer her anything she might mistake as a return of her affection. Andi climbed into the car, and with her presence came the familiar light scent of cinnamon. Her nosy neighbors became obsolete as I admired her girl next door beauty. She carried an easy going nature that both soothed and turned me on.
“At least you should feel safe with the local neighborhood watch and all,” I drawled, nodding to the street patrol. Andi smiled, and it was like radiant sunshine and sparkling rainbows had filled the car. Damn, I really should whip home and put on my man pants. Andi nervously fidgeted with the seatbelt. I didn’t like that anxiety. From the first moment we had been thrust together, the tension had been nothing but a lightning bolt of sexual awareness, but our argument three days ago had introduced a floundering awkwardness. I held out my hand, and Andi stared at it hesitantly.
“Hi, I’m Decker Steele, remember me? I was the smug asshole who was too damn pig headed to pay you any attention as a teenager. I just want you to know this asshole grew up, and even though I am, for the most part, cured of assholism, I am still prone to unexpected bouts of asshole-ish behavior. Like three days ago when I lost my temper and upset a really good friend of mine.” A smile crept onto Andi’s face and she took my hand.
“Assholism, I’ve heard of that, it can be very debilitating.” Even though her hand was so much smaller than mine, it fit. “Hi, I’m Andi Jennings, the girl who was too shy to give you the attention you so obviously craved as a teenager. I grew up though, I’m not so shy anymore, and I attend Geeks Anonymous in an attempt to haul my head out of books long enough to develop real relationships rather than fictional ones. It appears I also have a small problem with being a self-righteous bitch, so I’m going to work hard on fixing that.” She let my hand go and it took everything I had not to reach for her again.
“The word bitch does not exist beside your name, Country. Everything you said that morning was pretty much one hundred percent right. And for the record,” I pulled the car onto the street, leaving the peeping tom neighbors behind, “you didn’t say anything that I haven’t already heard from a therapist.”
“You see a therapist?” she balked.
“I did for a short time. So, what have you been up to for the last three days? Did you miss me?” I gave her a smile which I knew dropped panties faster than a cheetah on crack. She blushed and shook her head.
“Don’t think I didn’t miss the convenient change in subject.” She laughed. “And yes, I missed you. Last night I spent the entire evening locked in my bathroom because I thought I saw a rat, and I had no one to call to come rescue me.”
I arched a brow in disbelief. “You spent the whole night in there? Why didn’t you call Casey or Lionel?”
“Because they couldn’t get in even if I did call them, and there was no way I was stepping outside the door of my safe zone. Anyway, I had the essentials to keep me alive: toilet, water, curling iron.”
“Where did you sleep?”
“In the bathtub,” she answered. “It was a little chilly and I considered filling it with warm water, but then I was frightened I might drown or something.”
Way to make a guy feel like douche of the year. Andi had avoided me to the point of sleeping in a bathtub and having unrequited phone sex with some dude who had a foot fetish.
“You can call me anytime you need, Country. I don’t care if we’ve had an argument, you need help, even saving from a rat, you call me.” I gave her a pointed look to let her know I wasn’t saying this simply to humor her. If she needed rescuing from her table top, then I would be there, nothing could stop me.
“You might take that back when I’m calling you at three in the morning to come catch a spider,” she murmured.
I groaned. “You’re scared of spiders, too?”