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The Hook Up (First Impressions)

Page 3

by Tawna Fenske


  She shrugged and met her sister-in-law’s gaze. “I don’t think I’m ready for a boyfriend. Even that word sounds so stupid. Like I’m in fourth grade expecting someone to pull my pigtails or hand me a note with little checkboxes.”

  Miriam laughed. “Don’t knock hair-pulling as a sign of affection.”

  “Please don’t feel like you need to elaborate,” Ellie said. “That’s my brother you’re getting kinky with.”

  “Who said anything about kink? He spent the whole first trimester holding my hair back while I hurled.”

  “Oh.” Not for the first time, Ellie wondered if she spent entirely too much time immersed in the language of sexual aids. “Well, anyway, I’m not after a relationship. Not after what I went through with Chuck.”

  “But you’d be game for a fling?”

  Ellie glanced down the hall. Even though she heard Jason and Henry singing the Batman theme song at full volume, she still lowered her voice to answer the question. “Maybe a fling.”

  Miriam grinned. “So you want me to keep an eye out for a suitable candidate?”

  Ellie eyed her sister-in-law with a growing sense of wariess. And a tiny bit of giddiness. But mostly wariness. “Why do I sense you’ve already got someone in mind?”

  Miriam’s grin turned to a smirk, and Ellie didn’t have to ask what she was thinking. She had a hunch.

  And she had a hunch she’d be seeing him on Tuesday evening.

  …

  “Hey, Ellie.” Ty held the door open as the divine Ms. Sanders wheeled through the side door, pushing a cart teeming with pink plastic crates. All of them had lids, and Ty found himself wondering what was inside.

  And what was under her dress. It was white with little green flowers, and the hem fluttered up as a breeze followed her into the narrow corridor.

  “Thanks so much.” She brushed a handful of long, blond hair off her forehead and flashed Ty a smile that made his heart give a pleasant little sigh. “If you can leave the door propped open for just a couple minutes, I’ll get everything inside in just a few trips.”

  “How about I give you a hand.”

  He didn’t phrase it as a question and didn’t give her a chance to argue as he hustled out to her station wagon and grabbed four more of the pink crates. They weren’t terribly heavy, and he thought maybe he heard something buzzing in one of them.

  “You’re the best.” Ellie took a turn at holding the door then fell into step beside him as he headed down the hall. “This kind of thing is so much easier with two people.”

  “That’s what Miriam told me. She said you might need a hand.”

  Was it his imagination, or did her cheeks pinken just a little when he said that?

  “Only if you’re willing,” she said. “You definitely don’t have to stick around or anything.”

  He laughed and led her around a corner and down the hall toward the conference room. “I wasn’t planning to hang out and shop for fuzzy handcuffs, but I can at least help you get set up.”

  “I appreciate it. Would you mind if I stuck a few signs in the hallway out there to point the way to the room?”

  “Be my guest.” Ty flipped on the lights, bathing the bright red conference table in a warm amber glow. The table had been Miriam’s idea, and it had seemed a little bold to Ty at the start. Now, watching Ellie unpack boxes of lotion and feather ticklers, the bold hue seemed fitting.

  Ty glanced away, not sure he wanted to see what else was in those boxes. He was more than a little turned on in the presence of a sexy single mom, which was a bad idea on so many levels.

  “What else can I do to help?” he asked.

  “Would you mind giving me a hand with that smaller table over there? I’d like to move it to the front of the room and lay out a few of the products.”

  “No problem.”

  They worked together in companionable silence, shuffling tables and moving boxes and hauling in more stuff. She was surprisingly strong, waving off his offer to help heft a large, oblong box. She hummed while she worked, a soft, lilting melody that made Ty long for lullabies he’d never heard as a kid. He caught a whiff of oranges and wondered if it was her shampoo or her breakfast. Either way, something about it soothed him.

  As Ellie began unpacking one of the pink crates, Ty thought maybe he should avert his gaze.

  “Holy cow.” He stared as his urge to be discreet was shoved aside by his urge to know what the hell some of this stuff was. “I had no idea there was this much variety in fake penises.”

  “Impressive, huh?” Ellie held up a green plastic object that could be an oversize zucchini. Ty took a step back.

  “That’s one word for it.” He cleared his throat. “Looks like you’re just about set up here, so I’ll go ahead and get out of your—”

  “Oh, goody! A man!”

  Ty turned as four women filed into the room. They wore huge smiles and colorful leggings with sweaters. Three of them held bottles of wine, and the fourth gripped an impressive column of clear plastic glasses.

  A petite redhead in jeans at the back of the pack caught Ty’s gaze on the wine and gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” she said as she hoisted her bottle of Chardonnay. “We took an Uber here, so no one’s driving.”

  A stunning African-American woman strode through the door looking like Halle Berry with a plate of brownies. “Stacy and Charlotte and Joanne are right behind us in a taxi,” she announced, surveying the room. As her gaze landed on Ty, she broke into a Cheshire cat smile. “Oooh, what do we have here?” She eyed Ty up and down before turning to Ellie. “I didn’t know there’d be men at this party.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Ellie said. “Ty was just helping me get set up, but he’s on his way out.”

  “Worry?” A blonde woman in the corner laughed as she poured herself a generous glass of red wine. “Honey, you think anyone’s worried about having a hot guy in the room?”

  A pretty brunette began setting out paper plates printed with a man’s naked torso. “Pretty sure every single one of us has been to sex toy parties before,” she said. “But I’m betting nobody’s done one with a sexy male spokesmodel.”

  “Hear, hear!” shouted a petite Asian woman who would probably need a step stool to look Ty in the eye. “Might be fun to get a guy’s perspective for a change.”

  Ellie glanced at Ty with a nervous expression. He shrugged, not sure whether he should be putting up a fight or offering to stick around. If it meant he got to be with Ellie for the evening, the latter might not be so bad.

  “Is he going to take off his shirt?”

  Ty glanced away from Ellie to see a grandmotherly-looking woman staring at him with undisguised eagerness. “Because I was at a bachelorette party a few weeks ago, and a man showed up pretending to be a pizza delivery guy and then he took his clothes off.”

  “That’s not the plan,” Ellie assured her. “We don’t usually involve men at all in Madame Butterfly parties.”

  Ty turned his attention back to Ellie, admiring the way she took charge of the room. Somehow she managed to be soft and sweet and authoritative all at once. Maybe it was a mom thing.

  “Honey, we know,” the grandma said, sidling close to Ellie and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper Ty heard anyway. “But trust me on this one—we’re all here because we’re looking for something a little—different.”

  Grandma gave a suggestive eyebrow waggle and patted Ty fondly on the butt. He stifled the urge to flex as Ellie watched with an expression that was somewhere between horror and amusement.

  Halle Berry finished dishing up brownies and stepped over to survey Ty again. Then she turned to the assembly of ladies. “Raise your hands, girls, if you’ve been to a sex toy party before.”

  Ty glanced around the room, surprised to see about two-dozen women had congregated while he’d been busy staring at Ellie. Every single one of them had a hand in the air. Clearly, Ellie Sanders had tapped into a hot market.

  Smart woman, h
e thought, his admiration growing.

  “So we’ve all been to these parties before,” Grandma said, sounding triumphant. “But how many of you have ever had a little man-candy there?”

  No one’s hand went up, but the redhead looked at Ty and nodded. “I sure wouldn’t mind trying something new.”

  “Then it’s settled,” announced a brunette with a teeming glass of white wine. “The man stays.”

  Ellie bit her lip and stepped toward Ty. She touched his arm and angled up to whisper in his ear, and Ty found himself stooping down to get closer.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sure they’re just teasing. You don’t have to stick around. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  She was still biting her lip, which made him wonder how those lips would feel pressed up against his.

  What is wrong with you? Stop thinking about kissing her.

  Even nervous, she was so beautiful. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. He also had an unsettling urge to help her out with whatever she might need. What did she need?

  “This is your first party here,” he whispered. “Would having me around be a help or a hindrance?”

  Ellie glanced back at the crowd, uncertainty in her eyes. “A help.” Her gaze slid back to his then down, and her throat moved as she swallowed. “Probably a big one.”

  Ty grinned. “I’ll admit I kinda hate doing public presentations,” he said. “But something tells me I wouldn’t be expected to do much talking.”

  “You’re probably right.” She gave a shaky smile. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

  Ty stepped closer, loving the way she shivered when he did. “What do you want, Ellie?” he whispered.

  She looked startled then flushed deep crimson. It occurred to Ty he might need to clarify.

  “Would you like me to stick around, or make myself scarce?” he added.

  She seemed to hesitate. She glanced back at the two-dozen women who were staring at Ty like he’d just poured melted chocolate over his abs and offered them marshmallows for dipping.

  “They do seem to want it,” she murmured.

  “Do you?”

  He wasn’t even sure what he was asking anymore, but he saw the answer in her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and so close to his that her hair tickled his chin as she nodded once.

  “Okay, then,” he murmured. “I’ll stay.”

  Someone tugged the hem of his T-shirt, and Ty turned to see the grandmotherly woman peering up at him.

  “Young man.” She held up an iPhone in a sparkly turquoise case. “May I take a picture with you?”

  “A picture?”

  “Yes, it’s for my granddaughter. I’ve been telling her how I plan to get a hot young stud for a boyfriend. She’d simply die if I sent her a photo of the two of us together.”

  Ty laughed, even though part of him ached with nostalgia. He’d had a spirited grandmother once upon a time. She’d taught him to skip rocks and spit off bridges and curse like a thesaurus-wielding sailor. He’d wanted to live with her forever instead of just when his dad was behind bars. But she’d passed away, leaving Ty to spend the next decade bouncing between foster homes.

  Shoving aside the unexpected sting of memory, Ty refocused on the cheerful octogenarian who clutched his T-shirt. “I’d be happy to help you out, Mrs.…”

  “Sievers,” she said. “Mimi Sievers.” She glanced down at the fabric in her hand, then back up at him with a hopeful expression. “Maybe you’d be willing to take your shirt off?”

  “Oh, Mrs. Sievers.” Ellie stepped forward and shook her head. “We don’t want to take advantage of Ty.”

  Ty smiled, appreciating Ellie’s deft handling of the situation. Corralling a bunch of tipsy party-goers wasn’t easy. “It’s okay,” he said, turning back to his new geriatric best friend. “I don’t mind, if it’ll earn you some points with the granddaughter.”

  He grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, hesitating for an instant. He wasn’t the sort of musclehead who lived to flex his pecs in public, but if it would help Ellie’s sales, he was game. Hell, he’d cover his body with raspberry jam and lie on an anthill if she asked him to.

  What was it about those blue eyes that made him stupid?

  Ty yanked the shirt over his head in one quick movement.

  “Oooh, very nice,” Grandma squealed.

  “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” someone else shouted.

  “My lord, that man is ripped.”

  Ty laughed, a little embarrassed. But his new surrogate grandma beamed at him like he’d handed her a chocolate cake, and the tension eased from his shoulders. He liked being of service to Mrs. Sievers. And to Ellie, who was fluttering around, handing out catalogs and stealing glances back at him.

  He directed his attention back to Mrs. Sievers as she cozied up beside him, wriggling under his arm.

  “Perfect,” called the petite redhead as she fired off a few shots with the older woman’s phone.

  “Thank you, young man.” Mrs. Sievers patted his butt again and sauntered off, thoroughly pleased with herself.

  “My pleasure,” Ty said, and wondered where his T-shirt had gone.

  The brunette with the white wine stepped close to peer at the tattoo inked on his left pectoral muscle. “Is that Johnny Cash?”

  Fuck. Another wave of memory hit Ty, this one less pleasant than the first. He remembered his dad swaying drunkenly on the sofa, belting out the wrong words to “I Walk the Line.”

  “It is,” Ty confirmed, hoping the woman wouldn’t press for more. He glanced around for his T-shirt again, finally spotting it halfway across the room. How had that happened?

  Ellie watched him with heat in her eyes, and it was enough to melt the chill of memory from his veins.

  “The tattoo—it’s that famous photo,” someone else said. “The one where Johnny is flipping off the cameraman at the concert because—”

  “Okay, everyone!” Ellie called, clapping her hands at the front of the room. “Should we get started?”

  He shot her a look of gratitude, admiring her crowd-handling skills. She was poised and confident and so damn beautiful it took his breath away.

  She met his gaze and gave a nervous smile. “You are—um, wow.” She licked her lips. “You sure this is okay?”

  “Being ogled by two-dozen horny women?” Ty lifted one eyebrow. “Yeah, I think I can handle it.”

  Her cheeks went a little pinker, but she nodded. “Okay, but signal me if you get uncomfortable for any reason. If you want to stop.”

  “What, like the Bat-Signal?”

  Ellie gave him a funny look. “That’s my son’s favorite superhero,” she said. “Batman.”

  Ty kept his expression neutral but said a quiet prayer of thanks for the reminder. Ellie was a mom, which made her strictly off-limits for dating.

  But harmless flirtation? Maybe that was okay.

  “I don’t actually know how to do a Bat-Signal,” he said. “But if I run screaming from the room, that’s the cue I’ve had enough.”

  “Just the same, I don’t want you to get uncomfortable,” she said. “Especially once we start talking about toys and stuff.”

  “I’m fine, El. Your concern is sweet, though.”

  He couldn’t think of a time when someone had cared about what happened to him, and being on the receiving end of it from Ellie Sanders warmed him from the inside.

  “Humor me,” she said. “If you get uncomfortable, just say ‘I’m out.’ That’ll let me know I need to wrap things up and let you go. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Ty hesitated then reached out to take her hand in his.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “We’re shaking hands on it.”

  “Oh. Right, yes, of course. Sorry, I’m a little out of practice at this.”

  He smiled. “You and me both.”

  Chapter Three

  This was insanity.

  A hot, shirtless man standin
g next to her? Hell, his abs alone were crazynuts. He looked like something out of an underwear ad.

  And the fact that he’d stripped to help her out just added to the appeal.

  “Okay, ladies,” Ellie said. “We’re going to start off with a few items from our Tame Me bondage line. This is a great vanilla starter kit for those testing it out or those who want to experiment just a little.”

  “What’s that?” called a pretty redhead named Jane. She was the one who’d contacted Ellie in the first place about hosting the party. Most of these women were part of the same book club, though many had brought friends.

  Ellie glanced down at the object Jane was pointing at. “This is bondage tape,” she explained. “It has a lot of different uses for couples looking to experiment with a little light BDSM play.”

  “Like what?” someone else called.

  Ellie cleared her throat and ordered herself not to get embarrassed. She’d had plenty of conversations like this and was no stranger to frank discussions about sexual aids.

  But she’d never had a man in the audience before. A bare-chested, insanely attractive m—

  “You can use it to restrain your partner by binding his or her wrists together,” Ellie said, avoiding Ty’s eyes. “Or you can bind him or her to a piece of furniture.”

  “What about ankles?” someone called. “Would it work on ankles?”

  “Absolutely,” Ellie said. “Ankle-to-wrist, ankle-to-ankle—whatever feels good.”

  “Getting that tape stuck on arm hair wouldn’t make me feel good,” someone said, prompting a round of giggles from the audience.

  “Yeah, my husband would never go for that,” someone else added. “He has super hairy legs.”

  “That’s the beauty of bondage tape,” Ellie said. “It’s non-adhesive. It’s more of an electrostatic cling tape. You can even use it to cover someone’s eyes like a blindfold.”

  The women looked dubious, so Ellie tore off a piece to demonstrate. “Here, I’ll show you how it works.” She struggled to bind her wrists together but quickly realized that wasn’t going to work.

 

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