She snort-laughed, because reading too much into him was far more disconcerting than risking sounding ridiculous. “You want to woo me by talking about my parents?”
He ticked off points on his fingertips. “Perfect marriage, perfect kids, perfect dog. And a white picket fence. That’s quite the wish list.”
It was a fantastic wish list. “I’m on my way,” she said. “I have the dog.”
“No,” he said, eyes laughing. “You borrow my dog.”
“Your dog prefers me,” she said, more than a touch of defiance in those words.
“Until he gets hungry.” He grinned. “Funny how we always end up back there.”
She shrugged farther into the sofa. Wrong move. She should have run away, or at least walked gracefully to another room. Just not the kitchen. “Funny how you can’t let go of my inability to serve edible food. Get a new obsession.”
“How about your eyes?” His met hers, his tone raw and sincere. “Can I be obsessed with those, because I’m pretty sure that’s a cinema crutch. You have beautiful eyes, Lexi.”
He ended on such a slow, seductive note that her heart did an actual flip. Caught off guard, she managed to mutter, “That’s exactly a line out of a movie.”
“Then by your argument, it should work.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe coming from someone else.” Did he have to be so close? There was the other end of the sofa, or the armchair, or the stool in the kitchen, and she hadn’t burned down her living room next door, so he could just go borrow that.
But no, he didn’t budge. If anything, his attention intensified. “Or maybe we get real, and I tell you those are the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Cornflower blue. I saw it on a paint chip years ago, and even though I deeply hate having a relationship with a word like ‘cornflower,’ I think it every time I see your eyes.”
Two blocks over, the neighbors were hearing her heart thudding and thinking someone was knocking on their doors. Fat chance Matt hadn’t noticed. “You see me and think of cornflowers?”
“When you get mad at me, they get flecks of dark and light, like little explosions.” He touched her cheek, and dammit, she did swoon a little, not that she let him in on that fact. “And I wonder if they’re like that in bed. I wonder if any man who has been lucky enough to see them that way has ever noticed the nuances, the way they darken when you get annoyed or sparkle when you laugh.”
“If anyone is going to annoy me in bed,” she muttered, “it’s definitely you.”
He ignored her. “Know what else I want to know? When do you close your eyes and surrender? Is it when a guy traces your arm with his fingertips?” He demonstrated, immediately drawing chills.
She expected a smug grin, but all she got was the intensity of his gaze, which put chill bumps on top of the existing ones and would do absolutely nothing to get him off her mind.
“Or,” he continued, “is it when he touches your cheek?” He grazed her skin with the back of his hand, following the curve of her jaw to her neck, where he had to have felt her pulse racing. It probably shook the ground beneath her feet. She had never been so grateful that Matt had EMS training, because she just crashed hell-bent from skeptical to woozy.
While. He. Fed. Her. Lines.
She knew he was playing her, trying to make a point, and yet she couldn’t reconcile that reality with his fingertips against her neck, much less untangle herself from the way his touch coaxed her closer—a literal come hither that left her dazed and…wanting. She’d been in his arms a hundred times, usually in the throes of a fight over the remote or the last piece of pizza, and she’d always been aware of just how very male he was, but this…this was horrible.
“Have you ever thought about that, Lexi? Have you ever really found that moment of surrender, when you stop thinking and just let go?” His voice had dropped to a whisper, his face inches from hers, and he’d moved his hand to her cheek, gently dragging her bottom lip with his thumb.
Gently dragging her into a puddle.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve wondered what that must be like,” he said. “To be the man who takes you to the edge, to go over it with you. Your eyes must be so beautiful in that moment.”
She sighed, only it wasn’t something quiet and easily hidden. It was more of a lust-driven hiccup, and she wanted to sob with the sweet anguish of knowing she’d now forever be imagining the same thing. Not her eyes, but the look on his face, because there was no way she’d ever forget it now.
He leaned in, closing the last couple of inches, and she did close her eyes then, terrified he was going to take this one step further, praying that he might. But instead of what felt like an inevitable kiss, he brushed her ear with his mouth, jolting her with electricity before he whispered, “Told you.”
She blinked, and when he drew back, she had to be wearing an inch-thick mask of bewilderment. “What?”
Grinning, he said, “You ever get that from a movie, you let me know.” He stood, no sign whatsoever that he’d been affected by anything he’d said. He simply grabbed a soda out of the fridge and raised the can in victory. “By the way, the day another man makes you feel like that, I’ll give back my key to your house. You can consider that a win.”
“Matt—”
“Sweet dreams, Lex.”
He disappeared down the hall. She stared after him, the movie long forgotten.
Damn him.
She wasn’t even hungry anymore. At least not for the sub, which was her favorite, and why did he have to know that? Why did he have to know everything? Frustrated, she found Waffles, who had wandered away from the dish, food untouched. The dog lifted his giant head when she entered the room, glanced at the sub she held out for his consumption, and huffed a grunt of what she could only assume was annoyance that she’d woken him.
“I didn’t make it. I swear.”
Waffles cocked one eye open, then unceremoniously closed it again. Lexi gave up and headed back to the kitchen to put the sub in the fridge but hesitated outside Matt’s door. Her knuckles tingled with the urge to knock, and they weren’t the only parts feeling the desire to go in there. She lifted her hand, then stopped herself again. Matt had only been playing a role, and beyond that, he was right.
Real life wasn’t like the movies.
Real life was her standing uselessly outside her best friend’s door, her sudden attraction to him a nonstarter. Even if she wanted to admit that he’d gotten to her, nothing would change. They’d still be Lexi and Matt.
It wasn’t just the least she could hope for.
It was also the most.
Chapter Eight
Matt would never watch another rom-com for as long as he lived. He knew this because he’d never see another one and not think of Lexi in his arms, her shallow breaths, pupils dilated, eyes half mast, heat distorting the scant bit of atmosphere that separated them. He still didn’t know what stopped him from kissing her, or how he’d managed to walk away.
Scratch that. He knew. He damn well knew. Long looks, they could fade. But if he ever felt the sweetness of her mouth on his, if he ever dropped his head and let his eyes close and just lost himself to whatever she’d give him, things between them would never be the same.
No amount of lust was worth that.
He must have told himself that a thousand times. Watching her now, he said it again. And again.
She stood a good distance away across a manicured lawn chatting up her new buddy Dave. As far as he knew, things hadn’t gotten physical between him and Lexi, but Matt really hated the guy for having the balls to do what Matt never had.
He’d asked the woman out.
But Dave didn’t have anything to lose. And Matt…he could lose everything. Watching them together, he realized he might already have.
They were all attending a fundraiser for the children’s wing at the local hospi
tal, and not one part of his inner sainthood wanted to form a circle and start up a chorus of “Kumbaya.”
Even though Matt had vowed to himself to back off and let her find her picket fence, he couldn’t help wondering if she’d planned to be here with that guy or if they’d just run into each other, not that it mattered.
It killed him to see Lexi with someone else.
Especially a cop.
The problem was, Matt didn’t see himself with anyone long-term. Not even Lexi. And not one woman had ever tried to change that about him. As far as he could remember, it had never even come up. He just wasn’t that guy—yet another reason he needed to stop thinking about the softness of her skin and the length of her bare leg stretched across his guest sheets.
The day was sunny, the grass green, kids running all over the place. The event fit a classification somewhere between field day and carnival, with kid-centric favorites like a dunking booth, three-legged sack race, and some pie in the face thing that constantly launched its audience into uproarious laughter. Matt was there only because he’d promised a stint in the water tank. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he’d see Lexi there, but now he couldn’t think of anything else.
He low-key watched while she laughed, ate a hot dog, held the cop’s lemonade, cooed at someone’s infant, and generally proved to Matt that her picture-perfect life could exist just fine without him. He must have told himself a thousand times to let her be happy, and might have meant it if she’d been with anyone else in any other uniform, but Lexi’s idea of kids and a fence didn’t belong in some cop’s backyard.
Matt was suddenly glad they stood on hospital grounds, because with his heart in his throat and Officer Happy Pants standing way too close to Lexi, Matt was either going to end up in the emergency room or put the cop there.
He glanced down at his own FD T-shirt, wondering if he should go change before he did something stupid and Shane had his ass for doing it in department-issued threads.
A shadow crossed his chest. He looked up to find himself in the company of a woman wearing scrubs and a nametag that indicated she was Camille. “Hey,” he said, unsure if she’d actually spoken to him.
“Matt, isn’t it?” She smiled, as if she’d known all along. “I believe you’re up for the next hour in the dunking booth?”
“That’s me,” he said. “Are you one of the organizers?”
“Just running an errand for one,” she told him, then held out her arms, showing off the small white elephants that populated her shirt. She wore full scrubs, he saw then. “I’m a pediatric nurse. Most of the staff showed up in uniform as a way for the community to get to know us.”
He took in her glowing skin and glossed smile, pegging her for around his age. Lexi had to know it would kill him to see her with a cop. Just like he knew it would drive her nuts for him to not notice her with one—especially if his attention was so obviously elsewhere. Thank you, Camille. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked on a whim. “Those hot dogs smell great.”
“I wouldn’t eat a hot dog if I was starving,” she told him. He braced himself to hear about the miscellany of animal parts that purportedly found their way into the blender that produced them, but instead she smiled. “I’ll be happy to walk over with you, though.”
“I’d like that,” he said. “Think they’ll let me have your hot dog?”
She laughed. “I think they’ll let you have as many as you’re willing to buy.”
He took the suggestion to heart, paying for ten but taking only two. “Donation,” he said to the very surprised man who had the job of handing them out. “Or give a couple of freebies to someone who looks hungry.” Anyone but PD, he added to himself, not that he’d ever say that. Maybe anyone but that chump with Lexi. For a man on duty, he should probably take the occasional look around, but he hadn’t once taken his eyes off her.
“You’re the full package,” Camille said, once again dragging him from his thoughts. “Attractive, generous, and willing to take a turn in the tank.”
“Don’t read too much into it,” he said with a laugh. “Every guy on my shift has to take a turn. Lieutenant’s orders.”
“Does that include the lieutenant?” Camille asked, returning his smile with one of her own. She was pretty, and probably liked kids, considering her occupation. A couple of weeks ago, he would have had her number by now.
Today, his heart just wasn’t in it.
“If it didn’t,” Matt said, thinking of Shane’s orders to hit the tank and his utterly convenient previous obligation, “I’d find him and hose him down myself.”
She laughed, and he wondered why he couldn’t dredge up the desire to ask her out. She seemed interested enough, wasn’t wearing a ring, had a great laugh, and judging from the number of kids who greeted her with cotton-candy stained smiles, was probably good at her job. But all he felt was distracted.
He noticed Lexi standing with Dave, a large burlap sack in her hand. She gestured with animation, but despite his broadening smile, the cop only shook his head. Camille must have followed his gaze because she commented, “It’s almost time for the race to begin. I don’t want to get my scrubs dirty or I’d participate, but do you want to go watch?”
“Sure,” he said, “But you know, if you get dirty you can take my turn in the dunking booth.”
“As much as I appreciate your generosity,” she said drily, “I’m going to pass.”
Camille must have known Lexi’s cop, because as they drew near, she called out to him, “Don’t tell me she’s talked you into racing. Aren’t you on duty, Officer Kemp?”
The cop glanced at Lexi, grinning. “I told you I had to abstain.”
“Abstinence,” Matt said with a slight snort. “Now there’s a quality in a guy.”
Lexi shot him a death look while the cop laughed. “Definitely not something for the dating profile,” he agreed.
Okay, so the guy had a sense of humor. And a dating profile. But he was still a cop.
“Trying to talk him into the race?” he asked Lexi. “Not a bad idea. I hear the PD can run better than most.”
Kemp looked a little harder at Matt, his gaze zeroing in on the FD emblem on his shirt. “Every now and then we have to chase someone,” he agreed with a smirk. “Gotta stay on our toes. It’s not like we can solve all our problems with a garden hose.”
Matt held out his hands in false surrender. “When you can carry an unconscious man down a dozen flights of stairs through a burning building, you let me know.”
“Should be easy enough,” Kemp said, his brow quirked. “You boys spend enough time blowing smoke.”
“It’s not as hardcore as what goes down at the donut shop,” Matt conceded. “But I hear you like your coffee black, so don’t let anyone tell you you’re not living on the edge.”
“And on that note,” Lexi cut in, sending Matt a disapproving look, “the race is starting soon. Are you sure you don’t want to run, Dave?”
“Sorry, Lexi,” Kemp said. “I would love to, but like I said, I’m on duty. Weapon and all.”
“I’ll do it,” Matt told Lexi, then looked toward Camille. “If that’s okay.” He needn’t ask her permission—they’d literally just met—but he sure didn’t mind asking in front of Lexi.
“Of course,” Camille said, smiling.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he told her. “I’ll be back.” He slung an arm around Lexi’s shoulders and steered her away, toward the starting line. About twenty-five pairs of runners milled around, some attempting to get into the bags and toppling with their efforts.
“What was that about?” she asked tightly when they were out of earshot of Kemp and Camille. “Are you trying to ruin things with Dave?”
Kemp’s name on her lips was like nails on a chalkboard—a feeling Matt wholly ignored. Lexi wasn’t wrong about his caveman instincts, but if she wanted to date a cop, what
ever. “You wanted to do the race, right?”
“Not with you.”
“We’d better practice our technique,” he said, ignoring her. “I want to win this thing.”
“There are ten-year-old kids out there who are going to bury us,” she said, watching a pair somewhere in that age range run like they didn’t each have a leg mired in burlap. “Lower your expectations.”
“What’s wrong? Can’t handle being that close to me?”
Lexi looked him up, then down. “Oh, yeah. I can. But can you handle being close to me?” She then proceeded to step out of her long silky skirt to reveal a tiny pair of gym shorts underneath. Grinning, she dropped the skirt against a tree that neighbored the clearing and slipped out of her sandals. Her tee fell just low enough to suggest she didn’t wear any pants, which was probably worse than the sight of her in those little shorts.
“Is that even legal?” he asked when his tongue decided to work.
“Check the rules,” she said. “I’ll wait.”
“There are children.”
“Yes, and unless you have the point of view of an oversexed Neanderthal, I’m covered.”
“Is this why you wanted the cop to race with you? So you could show him your legs?”
“Yeah, I thought it would be super romantic if I distracted him and we both fell on our faces in front of a hundred witnesses.”
Matt looked down at his own basketball shorts, regretting his otherwise wise decision not to wear jeans to a dunking booth. He’d known the slide of her leg against his a thousand times in his life, but his perspective had shifted. His body was already in full-on response mode. Penile fractures were a real thing, and being on hospital grounds offered little comfort.
When he glanced back at Lexi, her smirk was almost his undoing. “You’re totally doing this on purpose.”
“I believe you started it.” She slipped one leg in the burlap bag and batted her eyelashes at him. “What do you say, Matt? Want to crawl in the sack with me?” With a knowing grin, she added, “You did offer, right?”
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