“Shelly Catherine Sullivan, did you just flirt with me?”
She didn’t respond straightaway, leaving me waiting in the darkness behind my eyelids with my lusty imagination, and the sound of running water.
But then she did respond, and her voice was achingly close, I could feel the heat from her body. “Are you always a gentleman?” she whispered, the question sounding honestly curious.
“I will be with you.”
“But have you always been?”
I thought back, way back to my last girlfriend, and the one before that, and the one before that. “Yes. I’ve always been a gentleman.”
I sensed she’d stepped back. “You should make an exception for me.”
“You don’t want me to treat you like a lady?”
“I am not a lady.”
“You’re my lady.” I grinned, enjoying this unexpected exchange.
“Yes.” She sounded thoughtful, serious; I felt her eyes on me as she continued in a whisper, “I’d like to be yours.”
That admission, more than anything, more than the kisses yesterday, more than the hot looks today, had my breath catching, my heart jumping, and my throat burning. It was a promise of what was to come, and what the future might hold, and I ached.
Then be mine, and I’ll be yours, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t be able to keep the roughness or the hopefulness out of my voice, and I didn’t want to scare her off by coming on too strong too fast.
I heard her faucet turn off and I sensed her retreat. “I’m going upstairs to change.”
“Can I open my eyes?”
Shelly sounded further away when she answered, “You didn’t need to close them.”
I blinked my eyes open, catching the sight of her as she strolled to the stairway. She was wrapped in a towel and her shoulders were bare. I glanced down and saw her clothes—all of her clothes—in a pile by the corner of the sink, and released a ragged breath.
Either she was trying to drive me insane with want, or the woman had no sense of modesty. In either case it didn’t matter, the end result was the same.
Standing there, soapy, shirtless, dripping, and staring like a fool at the evidence of her recent nakedness, I remembered suddenly that Cletus was upstairs in the office working on the books. A shock of something primal and possessive had me hastening to rinse and towel off, hurriedly twisting the faucet and jogging to catch Shelly.
It wasn’t my decision to make, but hell. I didn’t want her changing in front of my brother. I’d been so focused on hurrying, I almost collided with Cletus as I opened the door at the base of the stairs.
“Whoa there, Beauford.” Cletus held up his hands. “Shelly asked me to give her a moment, she’s changing.”
I stopped myself before I laughed my relief, instead swallowing the impulse and nodding as I stepped to the side, allowing Cletus to pass.
“Sure, sure. I’ll wait here until she comes out.”
Cletus shrugged, glancing around the garage. “You could probably go up now. I reckon she’s got the important parts covered by now.”
I stared at my brother, cocking an incredulous eyebrow at his casual dismissal of Shelly’s privacy. “The important parts?”
He pressed his lips into a stiff line, studying the closed roller door with an air of distraction; I got the sense he hadn’t heard me. “Say, uh, you’re still okay closing up the shop on Friday afternoon by yourself?”
“It’s fine.” Now that I didn’t need to rush, I took a moment to towel dry properly.
“And you mind riding with Billy on Saturday morning to Nashville for the thing? He’s working late Friday, too.”
“‘The thing’ being your show with Claire?” I studied his profile. He sounded funny, anxious. “You nervous?”
“No.” He answered too quickly, his gaze settling on the Master Lock toolbox closest to us. “I’m impervious to nerves, you know that.”
“Sure, Cletus.” By some miracle, I didn’t roll my eyes.
“You’ll be, uh, picking up Ms. Sylvester on the way Saturday morning. I expect you to behave like a gentleman. She’s not equipped to parlay with a flirt of your magnitude.” My brother’s attention returned to the toolbox and he cleared his throat.
“You mean Jenn?”
His eyes cut to me, sharp and suspicious. “You don’t know the lady well enough to call her Jenn.”
That had my mouth dropping with surprise even as I grinned. “Oh really?”
“No.” He crossed his arms and lifted his chin, challenge etched on his features.
“Well then, maybe I’ll use the drive to Nashville to know her better.”
Even though my brother was now squinting, the fire behind his eyes was plain as the sun and twice as hot.
I kept on grinning.
“You’re in a good mood. Why’re you in a good mood? Today isn’t Tuesday.”
Clapping my hand on Cletus’s shoulder, I gave it a small shake. “Just looking forward to the car ride on Saturday is all. You know how much I love making new friends.”
Before he could respond or see me laugh at his discomfort, I turned from my brother and took the stairs two at a time.
“Beauford Fitzgerald Winston—”
“G’night, Cletus.” I waved him off without turning. “No need to stick around. I’ll lock up.”
The intensity of his ire was so strong, I felt the heat of it boring into the back of my head as three thoughts occupied my mind: One: The ungentlemanly part of me hoped Shelly wasn’t quite finished covering all the “important parts.”
Two: Not that there was any doubt before, but Cletus had it bad for the Banana Cake Queen (aka Jennifer Sylvester) and he clearly had no idea.
Three: Messing with Cletus held second place for the most fun I’d had all day.
First place belonged to Shelly, and every moment we’d spent together.
15
“To understand the heart and mind of a person, look not at what he has already achieved, but at what he aspires to.”
― Kahlil Gibran
* * *
*Beau*
Unfortunately, Shelly had already finished dressing by the time I walked into the office. She turned and glanced at me, doing a double take and giving me another almost smile.
“Do you mind?” I teased, my grin giving me away as I crossed to my locker.
Now clothed in a long blue summer dress that ended at her ankles and matched the color of her eyes, Shelly closed the door to her locker and leaned a shoulder against it.
“I don’t mind at all.” Her gaze moved over me in a blatant perusal. She was growing bolder, more comfortable around me. I liked it.
“I meant, I’d like some privacy.”
“Oh, then I do mind.”
That made me laugh, and I shook my head at her, casting the woman a sideways glance as I untied the sleeves of my coveralls from my waist.
But when I pushed them down my hips, Shelly did look away. She turned, and I watched her shoulders rise and fall with what looked like a deep breath.
My gaze caught on the sight of her back and arms; the thin straps of her dress showcasing an expanse of delectable skin.
I had to swallow once before saying, “That’s a nice dress.”