by Tawna Fenske
“Exactly.”
Collin stepped forward, peering into the bathtub to study the grout lines along the wall. He peered at the shower curtain briefly before stepping over the rim of the bathtub to inspect it from the other side.
“Fascinating,” he murmured, fingering the curtain.
I stepped closer, suddenly concerned at the thought that I might have been showering with deadly fungus for several weeks. “Is it the bad fungus you were talking about?”
He glanced over at me. “I have no idea. But this shower curtain is identical to the one in my ex-girlfriend’s apartment.”
I rolled my eyes. “These are your keen powers of scientific analysis at work?”
“It was merely an observation.”
I took another step closer to the tub, admiring the way his amber eyes glittered behind his glasses.
“So can you really tell anything about this fungus without a microscope or something?”
“Come over here and take a look at this,” he said, moving a little to the side to make room for me in the tub.
I hesitated just a moment before stepping over the edge and moving into place beside him. The smell of lilacs from my shower gel and water lilies from the candles on the edge of the tub caught me in the same breath as the warmth radiating from Collin’s shoulder. I inhaled the scent of fresh grass and clean wool, wondering if it was a cologne or just Collin. I breathed in again, trying not to get too carried away by my senses.
Collin scooted over a few inches, his elbow brushing the side of my arm as I moved beside him. He didn’t seem to notice, nor did he notice the way I leaned closer, wanting to feel more of that heat.
Collin leaned down, his face nearly level with mine as he peered at a spot on my shower curtain. He fingered the edge of the fabric, his arm brushing my shoulder as he moved. I gripped the edge of my soap dish for balance, wondering if it was always this hot in my bathroom.
“You see this right here?” he asked, his breath ruffling my hair and making me dizzy. I leaned closer.
“What, that little speck?” I asked, pointing.
“No, that’s soap scum,” he said, taking my finger and moving it up a few inches. “This little bit right here.”
“Oh. Yes. Is that the deadly cyber fungus you were talking about?”
“Certainly,” he said, his fingers still curled around mine as we stood there, our faces mere inches apart. “We’re both going to go into cardiac arrest within the hour. Any final requests before you die?”
My heart was pounding hard. I knew he was joking about the fungus, but I didn’t doubt that the risk of cardiac arrest was quite real.
I let my eyes slide to his, struggling to conjure up a snappy retort or a witty comment or maybe even a fire alarm that would rescue me from doing something really, really stupid with a man who had accused me of being a spy bent on sabotaging his job.
And that’s when Collin kissed me.
The kiss caught me by surprise.
So did the trail of cold water that dribbled down my neck as I bumped the shower head.
I whimpered faintly, less from discomfort than from the sheer, hot pleasure of Collin kissing me in my bathtub.
Kissing me so beautifully, so thoroughly, that I didn’t notice the water slithering down the leg of my jeans.
“Er, you seem to have turned on the faucet,” Collin observed, not sounding too concerned as he continued kissing a trail down my jawbone and along my throat.
I nudged the tap off with my wrist, barely caring that the water had probably just ruined a $400 pair of boots. I just wanted Collin to keep kissing me. I slid my palms up his arms, over shoulders that were surprisingly muscled, and up the back of his neck. Twining my fingers in his hair, I caught the edge of his glasses, knocking them askew on his face. Without even breaking the kiss, Collin pulled them off and tossed them out of the bathtub.
I gripped the back of his head, pulling him to me, angling my body up so I could feel more of him. His hair was baby-fine and curled around my fingers. He responded by moving harder against me, the pressure of his chest making my breasts tingle pleasantly.
I was breathing hard now, dizzy with the scent of lilacs and lilies and Collin. His hands cupped my shoulder blades, curving around the pointed bones to press me more firmly against him as his mouth continued to do amazing things to my throat. I gasped as the tip of his tongue found the sensitive spot behind my left earlobe. I let my head fall back, willing myself not to lose consciousness and hit my head on the faucet.
Collin’s hands slid lower, circling my lower back before sliding around to my waist, then up toward my ribcage. I felt him fumble with one of the buttons on my cardigan, then another. I tried to remember if I was wearing nice underwear or if I’d just stashed it all in my towel basket.
A few more inches, a few more buttons, and we’d both be finding out.
“This is crazy,” I murmured. I was almost surprised to realize I’d said it out loud.
“Should I stop?” he breathed against my throat, his hand hesitating on the next button.
“No,” I gasped. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Collin stopped kissing, but kept his mouth on my throat, his palm against my ribcage. “You don’t sound very certain,” he murmured, his accent noticeably thicker.
I took a shuddery breath. “Don’t you think there’s something wrong about necking in the shower with a stranger I met at the dump a week ago? A stranger who has accused me of some very bad things?”
I felt his lips curve into a smile, his mouth still pressed to my neck. “A stranger from the dump. I like that. Makes it sound quite scandalous.”
I opened my eyes and glanced around at my bathtub, at the half-bottle of expensive shampoo, at my pink razor resting on the rim of the tub, at Collin standing there fully clothed looking so irresistibly charming that I thought I might just be imagining the whole thing.
I took another breath.
“I forget. Don’t we hate each other?”
“Right,” Collin said. “Romance does tend to dampen hatred just a skosh.”
I grinned. “This is your idea of romance?”
“I’m sorry. You don’t find mold inspections to be erotic?” The rumble of his voice was so disturbingly arousing I shivered. A few more seconds and I was going to start taking off my clothes.
“Sadly, I do find it erotic. What does that say about me?”
Collin laughed and began to kiss his way perfunctorily back up my throat, under my chin, along my jawbone. He placed one last kiss on my left cheekbone then took a deep breath, his chest pressing harder against me for one dizzying, heart-stopping moment.
He drew back, his eyes blazing and a little unfocused as he slid his hands to my shoulders and held me away from him.
“We should probably stop,” he breathed at last.
“Because the fungus will kill us and we only have a few more minutes to live?”
“Certainly. But you’re right, this is a bit daft. We should take this more slowly or we might end up doing something irresponsible.”
“Reckless,” I breathed.
“Wanton.”
“Risky.”
“Salacious.”
“Wild.”
“Okay, I’m becoming lightheaded here,” he said, and pulled back a little further. He slid his palms down my arms and found my hands, drawing them together and pulling them up to his mouth. He planted a light kiss on the knuckles of my right hand, then the left. His face was still flushed, his breathing still fast and irregular. I suspected that if I reached for his belt buckle, he wouldn’t object.
I took a step back.
Bad idea. I hardly knew Collin at all, and the few interactions we’d had with each other had been mostly adversarial.
Then there was the issue of my relationship with Daniel and whatever funny thing was going on with Pete. Slow down, JJ, I told myself, and took another step back.
“Okay,” I said brightly. “So I take it my bathroom
is safe from deadly mold?”
Collin glanced quickly at my shower curtain, his expression making it clear he’d forgotten the entire reason we were standing fully clothed in my bathtub.
He let go of my hands and cleared his throat. “What you have here is just your standard, average, everyday shower mold. Nothing a little Clorox won’t take care of. Sorry to disappoint. You might want to think about a new shower curtain though.”
“Oh,” I said. “Thank you. So what were you going to show me before – before—”
“Before?” he repeated, looking amused.
“Right.”
Collin poked his finger at a spot on the curtain. “This little bit of mildew right here looks just like Mickey Mouse’s head.”
I stared at him. He smiled. My knees weakened again and I averted my eyes, smoothing the front of my sweater.
“Well then,” I said, waiting a moment before daring another look at him.
He was watching me, his expression unreadable. I didn’t know what was going through his mind, but I knew I was still contemplating grabbing him by the neck of his sweater and dragging him to my bedroom.
“I should probably go,” he said finally, his eyes telegraphing the message that he was none too eager to do that. “Unless you’d feel safer having me sleep on the couch tonight?”
It was a tempting offer. Very tempting.
But I wasn’t so sure I was up for temptation tonight.
“Thanks, but I’ll be okay. I really appreciate you coming over, Collin.”
“Anytime, love,” he said, grasping my hand and planting a chaste kiss on the back of it.
“Collin?”
“Mmm?”
“Do you still think I’m a spy?”
He sighed. “You have to bring this up and ruin a perfectly good snogging?”
“It’s okay. The snogging was nice even if you are a suspicious jerk.”
“Indeed. I had a lovely time, even if you are a conniving spy. Goodnight, JJ.”
“Goodnight, Collin.”
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I’ll admit I wasn’t quite sure why I was dialing Pete’s number. Was it the fact that I was scared and wanted a big, burly man to make me feel safe for an hour or two?
Or was it that the big, burly man in question had been acting rather suspicious of late, and I kinda wanted to interrogate him?
Both, I decided as Pete picked up the phone.
“Pete,” I blurted. “I’m sorry to be such a girl, but—”
“You are a girl, JJ,” he said with a laugh. “One of the toughest girls I know, and the only one I know who drives a machine that can crush a car. What’s up?”
I sighed, glad to be understood. “The thing is, I’m feeling sort of— um, well— God, this is embarrassing—”
“Terrified? Nervous? Jumpy? I don’t blame you. You had quite a scare this evening. Want company?”
I nodded against the phone, pleased he didn’t seem to think I was a sniveling weenie.
Or if he did, at least he thought I was a sniveling weenie worth visiting late at night. He also didn’t seem to suspect I had any ulterior motives, which made me proud. Maybe Collin had a point. Maybe I would be a good spy.
“If it’s not too much trouble—”
“I’ll be there in just a few minutes,” Pete said. “I haven’t even gone home yet. Still out running errands.”
I wanted to inquire what sort of errands required driving around at almost midnight on a weekday, but he hung up before I got to ask.
I had barely thrown on a pair of yoga pants and a cute cami top when a loud knock sent my heart slamming against my ribcage. I tiptoed toward the front door, half expecting something sinister to be lurking on the other side. I peered through the peephole and was met by the sight of a chest so broad it blocked my view of the street.
“Pete?” I called cautiously. “Is that you?”
“It’s me. Need me to slip my ID through the mail slot?”
“That’s all right.” I flipped the deadbolt and unlocked the door. “Thanks so much for coming by. I feel like such a wimp, but—”
“JJ, it’s fine,” he said, rubbing a hand over my bare arm in a way that sent goose bumps skittering all the way to my sternum. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, throwing all the locks into place without being asked. “Tell you what, why don’t I take a look around the place? If nothing else, that’ll give you a sense of security that no bad guys are hiding in your closet.”
“Okay. Thank you. Just – um, I haven’t organized my underwear drawer for awhile, so don’t look in there. Or in the sock drawer. Or under the hamper, I haven’t swept for ages.”
“I seriously doubt the bad guys are lurking in your underwear drawer, but I’ll take that into consideration.”
I felt my cheeks flush as Pete stepped around me. I marveled once more at how big he was, how competent he looked as he rounded the first doorway and paused there in the threshold like some movie star cop clearing a room.
Come to think of it, that’s probably exactly what he did in movies.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I called. “Coffee, tea, bourbon, wine, water, beer?”
“I’d love milk, if you’ve got it,” he called from inside my closet. “Got any of those apricot ball thingies left?”
“Absolutely,” I said, and padded into the kitchen to get them. I filled two mugs with milk and placed a dozen little white chocolate apricot almond balls on a platter. I carried it out to the living room and was just setting it on the coffee table when Pete returned from his rounds.
“No monsters under the bed,” he confirmed as he dropped onto the couch. “Too bad. I hear monsters are fetching a pretty good price on the black market these days.”
I smiled and handed him one of the mugs. “Thanks so much for doing that. I feel like such a wuss, but I appreciate you coming here like this.”
“No sweat. I’d be pretty shaken up if I were you. Still no idea who might have left that creepy purse with the little animal?”
“Nope, no idea.” I shoved an apricot ball in my mouth and chewed. Pete picked up two of them and ate one whole before taking a sip of milk.
“You want to talk about the purse thing, or you want me to take your mind off that?”
I shivered at his words, half tempted to ask just how he planned to take my mind off that.
He’s got a girlfriend, I reminded myself. You have a boyfriend.
Not to mention the other reason I’d invited him here.
“Tell me about your job, Pete,” I said, pretty sure I’d never interrogated someone while wearing jammies and holding a glass of milk. “Did you always want to be a secretary?”
He laughed and took a sip of milk. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be Spiderman. Broke my arm trying to climb out my third-story bedroom window with rubber cement on my hands.”
“I see. So I guess the secretary thing seems a little safer.”
“I don’t know about safety. Did you see the paper cut I got today? It matches the one I got on the other hand from Lori’s business card.” He held up his finger, displaying a Snoopy Band-Aid. “Ernie fixed me up this time.”
I smiled, enjoying Pete’s humor even if it wasn’t exactly helping me get to the bottom of his peculiar behavior. He reached for another apricot ball and popped it in his mouth. “So what did you want to be when you were a kid?”
“I wanted to drive heavy equipment.”
“So your dream came true. Congratulations.”
�
�Thanks, but it wasn’t that simple.” I sighed and leaned back against the sofa. “Somewhere in my teens, I started noticing there weren’t a lot of girls who went to prom in a dump truck. I liked fashion and boys and pretty things, and decided the best way to get all that was to have an important office job.”
Pete nodded, his expression serious all of a sudden. “How’d you like the office job?”
“Hated it. It was boring and my cubicle was stuffy and the office politics made me want to slam my head in my desk drawer over and over at the end of every workday. That’s why I wasn’t too upset about the layoff, though now I feel like I wasted five years doing that stupid marketing job.”
Pete shook his head and brushed a crumb off the leg of my yoga pants. “It wasn’t a waste at all. Don’t you think that’s a big part of why you love this job right now?”
“What do you mean?”
Pete drained the rest of his milk before leaning back against the sofa and draping his arm over the back of it. Blue Cat – who was lying mere inches from Pete’s outstretched hand – gave him a surly look and seemed to consider biting off a finger.
Unaware that his digits were in danger, Pete kept talking. “You know how sometimes you have to date someone who’s completely wrong for you in order to recognize what you really want in a significant other?”
“Sure. Yes, definitely.”
“I think it’s the same thing with jobs.”
I ignored the tiny stab of jealousy I felt at the thought of Pete’s girlfriend. I also tried not to think about whether he was implying something about Daniel. All things considered, Pete had a damn good point.
“So you’re saying I probably wouldn’t be having this love affair with the dump job if I hadn’t had a fling with the office job and gotten that out of my system?”
“More or less.”
I wondered if either of us was being deliberately flirtatious with the analogy. It probably was best not to dwell on that, and I really needed to get back to my interrogation. Before I could ask another question, Pete’s phone rang.
“Sorry,” he said as he slid the iPhone out of his back pocket and frowned down at it. “I need to take this.”