He thought about knocking, but she was already in the shower, and he didn’t want to give her a chance to say no. He tried the knob and was unsurprised to find it locked. Undeterred, he crossed to her dresser and poked through the pile of paraphernalia on top, pleased when he unearthed a hairpin. Back at the door, he went to work and grinned when after a few seconds, he heard the quiet pop of the lock releasing.
He walked in on silent feet and glanced around the room. A long vanity with double sinks ran along one wall, and a soaking tub sat in the corner. He eyed it thoughtfully, noted it was big enough to hold a party of four, and filed the knowledge away for future use.
Opposite the tub was a glass-enclosed shower with blue glass, subway tile that rose to the ceiling. Steam rose in the enclosure, clouding the glass, but he had no trouble picking out Honey’s long, lean form.
She faced the wall, her head lowered, and her elbows braced on the tile as she let the spray beat down on her shoulders. Her hair was slicked back from her face, her eyes closed.
Then he let the door slam shut behind him, and her eyes popped open as her head swung around.
“I locked that door.”
“Did you?” He crossed the room and reached for the shower door. He looked around as he stepped inside, appreciating the space. “Wow, this shower’s huge. And you’ve got a built-in bench. Did Jacob’s crew do this work?”
“Last year, after I saw what he’d done at Winnie’s.” She shoved at her hair as it dripped on her face. “I didn’t invite you in here.”
“I know.” He picked up a bottle full of frothy peach-colored liquid and gave it a sniff. “Nice. Now I know why you always smell so good.”
He bit back a smile when her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I thought you were leaving.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because that’s what you do,” she shot back, making him wince.
“I suppose I deserved that,” he said mildly and flipped open the top of the bottle to pour some into his hand. “Is this shampoo?”
“No, it’s body wash,” she told him and shoved at her hair as it fell in her eyes again.
“Better,” he decided. He rubbed his hands together, worked up a lather, then filled them with her breasts. Her sharp intake of breath made him smile.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He stroked his hands over her breasts, down her belly and back again before slipping around to curve his palms over her buttocks. “I don’t know why, but seeing you mad gets me worked up.”
He saw her eyes dip down and widen as she saw his cock was nearly flush with his abdomen. When her gaze shot back to him, her eyes were clouded with confusion and desire. “I don’t understand you.”
His belly clutched a little at the hurt in her voice, the shadow of it in her eyes. “I know. Sometimes I’m not sure I understand myself.”
She closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, determination had replaced the hurt. “Look. I can handle last night being a one-time thing. You don’t have to stick around.”
“What if I want to stick around?”
Her breasts rose with her indrawn breath. “I don’t think you know what you want.”
Since that came uncomfortably close to the truth, he leaned down to nibble on her shoulder. “Right now, I want you. Is that all right?”
“How can you want me when you don’t even like me?”
He lifted his head to look her in the eye. He’d wanted plenty of women he hadn’t particularly liked, but he knew better than to say it. “I like you, Honey.”
“You do?”
She said it with such disbelief tinged with cautious hope, guilt cramped his belly. “Of course, I do.”
“There’s no ‘of course’ about it,” she muttered.
“It makes me uncomfortable,” he admitted, and she frowned.
“What does?”
“Liking you.” He tucked wet hair behind her ear. “Wanting you. I wasn’t expecting it, and it sort of snuck up on me. I guess I haven’t handled it very well.”
“Oh.” Her eyes went liquid, her body softening as the tension flowed out.
“Believe me, I like you,” he murmured, lowering his head to brush her lips once, twice before settling into a slow, deep kiss. He gathered her close, enjoying the way her soap-slick breasts glided across his chest. His fingers tightened on her ass, his cock pressed into her belly. Her arms slid around his waist, her fingers digging into his back as she went up on her toes. She scraped his tongue with her teeth before gently sucking on it, and he went from simmer to boil just like that.
He had her backed up against the tile and her legs around his waist before she could blink. Pulling back slightly to look into her startled eyes, he sent her a wide grin as he slid home in one sure thrust. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No,” she managed, her eyes going blurry with pleasure. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his throat. “I don’t mind at all.”
* * *
When Honey made her way down the stairs an hour later, Milo at her side, her ears were still ringing. The hot water had run out before Ethan did, forcing them to shiver their way through the personal grooming portion of the shower. It was the first time she could remember being that cold and that happy, but it turned out, a toe-curling orgasm was a hell of a mood lifter.
And an appetite stimulant, she realized, pressing a hand to her growling stomach. She crossed to the back door and released the doggie door so Milo could go out, then hit the fridge. A quick search made her wince; she needed to go to the market. She was out of eggs, and the only fruit she had left was a handful of wrinkly grapes and one sad apricot that had passed its prime at least a day earlier. Luckily though, there was a half a gallon of milk and a full box of Cheerios.
She was reaching for bowls when Ethan walked into the kitchen.
“Cheerios?” He shot her an incredulous look. “Do you have any idea how many calories we burned between last night and this morning? Where’s the bacon? Where are the waffles?”
She snorted out a laugh and handed him a bowl. “Sorry. I’m all out of bacon, and I don’t have a waffle maker.”
He grumped and grumbled as he filled his bowl. “If I’d known you were going to feed me like a three-year-old, I’d have let you walk home.”
She punched him lightly on the arm as she laid out spoons, then looked up when Milo lumbered in through the doggie door. She gave him a scratch behind the ears, then filled his dish with kibble before settling herself on a stool at the breakfast bar. “I still don’t know why you freaked out about that.”
He poured milk over his toasted oats and picked up a spoon. “Because it was stupid.”
She rolled her eyes. “It was six blocks.”
“Alone, in the dark. It’s basic safety, kid.”
Honey choked on her Cheerios. “Kid?”
“Kid.” He grinned. “You’re what, twenty-five?”
“Twenty-nine,” she corrected, both pleased and annoyed that he’d pegged her as younger.
“Really?” He studied her with narrowed eyes. “Okay, less of a kid. It’s still basic safety.”
She rolled her eyes again. “I’ve lived here for three years, Ethan. Do you know the last time we had a mugging?”
“No.”
“Me neither, because it was five years before I moved here.”
“Don’t care.” He pointed his spoon at her, dripping milk onto the counter. “You don’t walk alone in the dark anymore.”
“That’s just silly.”
“Don’t care,” he said again, spoon still dripping. “Promise me.”
She shrugged as she reached for a paper towel. She didn’t think it would be an issue, so she didn’t see the point in arguing about it. “Fine.”
He took the paper towel she handed him. “Say the words. Without,” he admonished, “rolling your eyes.”
She choked back a laugh. “I promise I won’t walk alone in t
he dark anymore.”
“Good.” He mopped up the spilled milk, then reapplied himself to his cereal.
He had a second bowl while she finished her first, then carried their dishes to the sink. “What are you doing today?”
She shrugged as she wiped down the counter. “I need to take Milo for a walk, run by the market. Then I’ve got some lesson plans to work out.”
“You teach art, right? At the community center?”
She smiled at him. “And the middle school. Classes start in a few weeks.”
“What kind of art? Painting, drawing?”
“All that, plus sculpting, and I throw in a little graphic design for flavor.”
“That’s cool. I don’t know anything about art.”
“I don’t know anything about financial planning, so I guess we’re even.”
“Guess so.” He leaned back against the counter, his blue, blue eyes watching her as she tidied up. “Question.”
“Answer,” she shot back and made him smile.
“What next?”
She raised an eyebrow as she crossed to the sink. “You’re asking me?”
He shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve been involved with anyone.”
“Well, ditto.”
He quirked a brow in question. “How long?”
She had to think. “Five years? Give or take.”
“You haven’t had sex in five years?”
She shot him an exasperated look over her shoulder as she rinsed out the dishcloth. “You said involved, not had sex.”
“Fair enough,” he allowed. “It’s been longer than five for me. For involved, not sex.”
“Yeah, I got that.” She switched off the water and turned to lean against the sink, arms crossing over her chest in a mimic of his pose. “So, we’re both out of practice.”
“Hmmm.” His lips twitched, eyes dancing with humor. “I guess the question is now that we’ve had sex, do we want to keep having it?”
Even though her chest tightened with anxiety, she kept her gaze level. “Well, I can only speak for myself, you understand. But I’m for it.”
He grinned, quick, and surprisingly charming. “Well, ditto.”
She burst out laughing as he pushed off the counter and walked toward her. She was still laughing when he scooped her up for a hard, fast kiss.
“I better go before Aunt Winnie sends out the national guard.”
She snorted. “Your car’s been parked in front of my house all night. If at least six people haven’t called to tell her where you are, I’ll eat my shoe.”
He winced, and she laughed again. “Small towns.”
“Tell me about it.” He kissed her again, lingering long enough to stir her blood. “Think you’ll have time after you finish your lesson plans to have sex again?”
“I’ll make time,” she assured him soberly, and after a last quick kiss, walked him to the front door, Milo following sedately along. She closed the door behind him, then turned, back to the door, and slid down to the floor with a giddy grin on her face.
“Milo, my friend,” she told him as he wandered over to lap at her chin. “I don’t know where this is going, but I’ll tell you this: that beat the hell out of the Lady Pleaser Deluxe.”
Chapter Eleven
When Ethan showed up for work Monday morning, he learned firsthand just how fast word traveled in small towns. Since the Meyers addition was finished, and to rave reviews, Jacob asked the crew to meet him at a house on Market Street on the south edge of town.
“He must be crazy,” Seth muttered. “This place is a dump.”
They were standing on the brown and ragged patch of lawn, sipping coffee and staring at the frame house. Ethan thought ‘dump’ might be putting too fine a spin on it. “I was thinking House of the Undead. Worst case scenario, we can keep it as is, add a few zombies, and charge five bucks a head at Halloween,” he said, and Seth laughed.
David, standing on the other side of Seth, grunted his agreement. “Good thing I’m up to date on my tetanus shot,” he muttered. “No way we’re going to get through there without hitting a rusty nail or two.”
“What the hell is Jacob thinking?” Seth wondered.
David shrugged and sipped his coffee. “Fix it up, sell it.”
“A flip?” Seth’s tone was appalled. “Seriously? We don’t do flips.”
“It’s a seller’s market,” David pointed out. “Easy to make a profit if he can get it cheap enough.”
Seth eyed the house with its sagging roof and peeling wooden siding—most of which was either rotten or missing. “I don’t think free would be cheap enough.”
Ethan pursed his lips. “I don’t know. It could be charming.”
“Dude, the whole house is leaning.” Seth shifted his body to illustrate. “That’s foundation issues, framing. Probably rot.”
“I’m not saying it’d be easy,” Ethan countered. “But the potential is there.”
“You’re crazy, too.” Seth sighed. “I can’t believe I’m here looking at this house of horrors when I could be in bed with my woman.”
Ethan grinned. “She’ll be there when you get back, won’t she?”
“No.” Seth’s face drooped almost comically. “It’s her day off, but she’s taking my mom and hers back to Lansing to see the dress she liked.”
“Yeah, Abby’s pissed she can’t go,” David told them. “They’re going to video chat from the store so she can see what it looks like.”
“Cheer up.” Ethan tilted his head as he looked at the house. He thought some of the gingerbread trim might be salvageable. “She’ll probably come home in a great mood.”
Seth sighed. “I hope so. This wedding isn’t for another seven months and I’m already sick of it.”
David winced. “For God’s sake, don’t tell her that.”
“I’m not that dumb,” Seth shot back. “I wish Honey could’ve gone with them. The moms tend to behave better if there’s someone else there.”
“Why didn’t she go?” David wanted to know.
“She has a class at the community center,” Ethan answered absently. The whole front porch would have to come down, and the roof was a total loss, but he liked the bones of the place. He turned to David to ask what he thought about the gingerbread and found the other man staring at him. “What?”
“Since when do you know Honey’s class schedule?”
“Since he started sleeping with her,” Seth chimed in, causing both men to swivel toward him, one in annoyance and one in shock.
“When did this happen?” David demanded.
“Saturday night,” Seth said and grinned when Ethan groaned. “He followed her out of the tavern. According to Mrs. Betz, who was letting that yappy little dog of hers out, he followed her down the street for at least half a block.”
“In his car or on foot?”
“In his car.” Seth relayed cheerfully.
“I was trying to give her a lift,” Ethan explained.
“Why?” David wanted to know. “She only lives six blocks from the tavern.”
While Ethan stared at him, appalled, Seth picked up the story again. “Mrs. Betz lost track of them for a few minutes because Bernie got stuck in the bushes. By the time she got the dog out, Honey was in the car, and Ethan was climbing in and speeding away. She thinks she probably missed something good though because she said Honey looked pissed and Ethan was kind of limping.”
Ethan clamped his mouth shut as both younger men turned to him expectantly; there was no way he was telling them about getting sucker punched.
“Anyway,” Seth went on, “my ma works with Dolores Crane, who lives across from Honey, and she said that fancy sports car of his was parked in Honey’s drive all Saturday night and half of Sunday.”
I went home at 10 a.m., Ethan thought. Clearly, Dolores Crane was an exaggerator.
“And today,” Seth went on, “The Klikner kid who delivers the paper told Mrs. Crane he saw Ethan leaving Honey’s house
just after six this morning. She called my ma, and Ma told Sadie when she came to pick her up for the drive to Lansing this morning.”
“Jesus Christ,” Ethan grumbled, irritated. The paperboy was spying on him?
David was eyeing him speculatively. “I thought you said you weren’t interested in dating.”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, and what happened to not liking her?” Seth chimed in.
David frowned. “You don’t like Honey?”
“Clearly, I do.” Ethan sucked in a breath and tried to take the intrusion into his personal life philosophically. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“Damn.” David shook his head, a faint grin on his lips. “You and Honey, huh?”
Ethan struggled with discomfort. “Looks like.”
“How was it?”
Ethan shot David an incredulous look, shock overcoming discomfort. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Hey, let me live vicariously. My wife is two days past her due date, and she’s so damn tired she’s asleep before the evening news. I can’t remember the last time I had sex.”
“We’re not in junior high, for God’s sake.”
Seth winced. “Yeah, and dude, that’s my sister you’re talking about.”
“And even after she has the kid, we have to wait six weeks,” David went on, ignoring Seth as the younger man slapped his hands over his ears and started singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.
Ethan refused to laugh. “Watch porn and jerk off like everyone else.”
“Come on,” David cajoled, and waggled his eyebrows. “Honey’s hot. Firm. She does yoga, right? Is she bendy?”
“Shut up.”
“Come on, man, bros before...” He trailed off, cheeks going ruddy as he realized what he’d been about to say. “Come on.”
“You know, when we first met, you’d hardly say two words to me.” Ethan sipped his coffee to hide his smile. “I miss those days.”
“Be a pal.”
Ethan pursed his lips. Since the cat was out of the bag—or in this case, the dog was out of the bushes—he might as well enjoy himself. “She tastes as good as she smells, and she’s very flexible.”
Honey and the Hitman Page 15