by Katie Allen
“Yeah.” He reached around her and grabbed another cookie. Feeling sympathetic, Leah let him. “I got in early last night, so I was going to come into work this morning after all, but I’d already turned off my alarm and forgot to reset it.”
“That’s okay. It was good you had some time off.” The door opened, catching her attention, but it was just the last of the customers leaving. She glanced at the clock to see that it was past closing time. Grabbing a bakery box, she loaded it up and handed it to Q. “Here. Go home and wallow in sugar and disappointment.”
“Thanks, Leah. See you, Mr. Hamilton.” He raised the bakery box in a wave as he headed out the door.
As she watched him go, Leah huffed out a laugh.
“What?” Hamilton asked, watching her.
“If I ever have kids, they’re going to be chubby little monsters. I just told Q to go home and eat his feelings.”
Hamilton grinned wide enough to show off his dimple, and Leah felt like she’d just won a prize. “You’ll be a great mom.”
“Thanks.” Now she was blushing again. How had the conversation turned to them discussing her possible future children? Shaking off her bemusement, she moved to the front door. As she locked it, all her lustful thoughts rushed back to her, and she paused before turning around to face Hamilton. She half expected they would start making out immediately on the front counter, but he just gave her that eyebrow raise that used to drive her batty and now, oddly enough, turned her on.
“What would you like me to do?” he asked, and her mind flashed over a dozen X-rated possibilities before she managed to pull herself together.
“Here,” she said, moving back behind the counter and handing him an empty bakery box. “Fill this up with whatever you want. This is the down payment on your wages for today. Unless you’d rather have cash?”
“No.” His gaze roamed the display case before landing on her again, and his hungry expression made her instantly wet. “I’d rather have this.”
Although he gestured toward the pastry items as he said it, his eyes were locked on her, making her heat up to lava-like temperatures again. Barely managing to tear her gaze away, Leah focused on a twist-tie that had fallen on the tile floor so she wouldn’t give in to the temptation to stare at him again. “You pick out sweet things.” Her words were rushed, but she was happy that she was able to talk at all. “I’m going to close up.”
Without waiting for a response, she rushed into the kitchen. No sex in food-prep areas, she chanted to herself. No sex in food-prep areas. Wait until you get him home. She groaned as the mental picture of the two of them rolling around on her bed filled her brain. What was wrong with her? It was like her hormones had mutinied and taken control of her brain and her body.
“You okay?” Hamilton asked, pushing open the swinging door, his gaze running up and down her body as if checking for injuries. “I heard you make a noise.”
Yes, I was moaning because I want you so badly. Holding back a frustrated growl, she smiled at him, knowing that it probably resembled a grimace more than anything. “I’m fine.”
After a final assessing stare, he returned to the front. As soon as the door swung closed, Leah fanned her face and took a deep breath. She had to get hold of herself. The sooner she managed to finish the closing routine, the sooner she could drag Hamilton home and have her way with him.
The thought was instant motivation. She’d never finished closing so quickly before.
The walk home, she realized before they even made it across the parking lot, was going to be another form of torture. The wind was sharp with the threat of snow, and she huddled into her hoodie. Hamilton wrapped an arm around her, and she gave him a grateful smile.
“I put away my winter coat too soon,” she said, huddling against his side. “I’ve lived in Denver my entire life. You’d think I’d figure out that it snows as late as May sometimes. March has warm days, but it’s definitely not a hoodie-only month.”
He held her closer. “Do you want my coat?”
“No,” she said quickly. “This is good.” It was. Being held against Hamilton was very good. His arm was heavy over her shoulders, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or confining. Instead, it felt secure, reminding her of how he turned into a clingy octopus when they were in bed together, and how much she loved that. Reaching up, she put her hand over his where it cupped the ball of her shoulder, and her fingers instantly warmed.
“You should wear gloves,” he said in a grumbly voice, and she smiled at him.
“So should you.”
“My hands aren’t cold.” Although his eyebrows were doing their usual chastising-lift thing, she could tell that he was holding back a return smile.
Leah slid her free hand under his jacket and rested it on his lower back. “Mine aren’t either now.”
His eyes turned hot, and he stopped, using his arm around her to swing her around. The bakery box hit the trail with a soft thump. Losing her grip on his hand, she clung to a fistful of his shirt instead, startled by the sudden movement. Pressing her back against a tree, he moved closer, pinning her to the trunk. The lights by the path turned him into a huge, hulking silhouette, but Leah wasn’t scared. All she could think about was how much she wanted him.
Hamilton slowly bent toward her, but she was too impatient to wait. Grabbing the back of his head, she yanked his mouth down to hers. He made a surprised sound that was muffled against her lips, and then he was kissing her.
As always, his urgency amazed her. If she’d had to guess a few weeks ago what kind of kisser her landlord would be, she would’ve thought his technique would be similar to a robot’s—dry, controlled, and as passionless as he seemed to be. She would’ve been so, so wrong.
It was as if a dam inside him had broken, releasing a torrent of need. He nipped and sucked and slid his tongue against hers. Except for the first second when she initiated the kiss, he was in charge, taking over completely, wiping her brain of everything except a need to get closer to him.
His hands roamed, sliding under her hoodie and shirt and finding the sensitive bare skin of her sides. With a shiver, she fisted her hands in his hair, gripping the short and silky strands. It wasn’t enough, though. She needed to touch him everywhere. Her hands dove under his jacket, and she yanked at his shirt, pulling the tails out of the waistband of his pants. As always, she loved rumpling him, taking his perfectly ironed and ordered self and adding all kinds of wrinkles.
Finally, she had access. Stroking one hand against the smooth, hot skin of his back, she felt the muscles tense in reaction. It was fascinating how just her touch made his body ripple and flex. He groaned against her mouth and nipped her lower lip, sending a shock of pain that wasn’t really pain through her body. His hands slid up and down her sides, traveling over her ribs and brushing against her bra-covered breasts. Her breath caught at the contact, and her nipples hardened, begging for his touch.
He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and she made a protesting sound. His lips moved to her jaw and then lower, sucking and nipping at her neck. That was all it took to make her forget about bringing his mouth back to hers. Tilting her head to give him better access, she dug her fingertips into the unyielding flesh of his back.
As his lips followed the line of her throat, she let her head tip back against the rough bark of the tree trunk. His fingers slipped down her stomach, and her muscles flinched slightly at the touch of his rough hands against the sensitive skin. Sliding one hand into the waistband of her jeans, he unfastened the button and slid down the zipper. The click-click-click of the metal teeth separating sounded loud in the near silence, with only their hard breathing and distant traffic breaking the hush.
It reminded Leah of where they were and what they were about to do. “Ham, wait.”
Her voice was so rough that she was surprised he understood her, but he stopped immediately. With a hard exhale that warmed he
r damp throat, he pulled away.
“Sorry.” She really was. Even as she re-buttoned and zipped, she wished she could just rip her jeans right off, instead. The logical part of her knew that they were on a public path and that it wasn’t that late. Anyone could walk by. “It’s just...” She swung out a hand, indicating the park around them.
“You were right to stop,” he said, not looking away from her face. His expression was so desperately hungry that she was once again tempted to toss away her misgivings and just take the risk of getting arrested for indecent exposure. “I got carried away.”
“You and me both.” She’d known how addictively brain-erasing his kisses were, so she shouldn’t have started something in public. Her gaze latched onto his mouth. His lips were parted, his mouth relaxed so that it formed the perfect model’s pout, and the streetlights reflected off the shiny moisture from their kisses. Tearing her eyes away from the tempting sight, she looked over his shoulder, determined not to give in again—at least not until they reached the apartment. “We should get home.”
“We should.” He didn’t move. After several silent moments, Leah gave in to her curiosity and let her gaze land on his face. He was staring at her mouth. Even in the low light, she could see his narrowed eyes and the desire in them.
Digging for her willpower, Leah sucked in a deep breath. It looked like she was going to have to drag them both to her place, or there really would be some public sex followed possibly by their arrests.
“Come on, horny pants,” she said. Wiggling out from where he still had her pinned against the tree, she grabbed his hand and towed him back to the path.
“Horny pants?” He sounded both amused and appalled as he bent to pick up the dropped bakery box.
“I was mostly talking to myself.”
With a huff of laughter, Hamilton caught up with her and wrapped his arm around her again.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Leah asked, glancing sideways at him. “This is what got us into the situation in the first place.”
“Don’t want you to get cold.” His arm tightened around her.
“Oh, I’m not cold.”
He laughed—an actual, full-out laugh—at that, and Leah stared at him, awed. A laughing Hamilton was the most beautiful thing in the world. It didn’t last long, unfortunately. Soon, any trace of amusement was wiped away, and he was back to looking at her with his eyebrows lifted. “What?”
“What what?”
“You’re looking at me.”
“Yes. It’s one of my favorite things to do.” She probably wouldn’t have admitted that in normal circumstances, but she was still dazed from his radiant happiness. They were almost at her building, so she started digging through her bag for her keys. “I’m not going to stop, either, so you’re just going to have to live with it.”
He blinked at her, looking bemused, as she unlocked the door. They climbed the stairs in silence. It wasn’t until she was unlocking her apartment door that he spoke.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you...?” He cleared his throat and started over again. “I assume by your comments that you are...interested in me, but I don’t understand why.”
As the door swung open, she turned to stare at him, lifting her eyebrows in an attempt to imitate him, but she was pretty sure she’d just made her face look twisted and weird. “There’s a lot to process in that statement. First off, you assume by my comments? I would’ve thought that the way I throw myself on you and strip off your clothes on a regular basis would be a more obvious indicator.” Great, now she was starting to sound like him.
“That’s, well, yes.” He was positively stuttering, and it was fascinating to watch the put-together Hamilton babble. “There are multiple signs...at least, I assume that they are signs of your, well, your interest, but I am unclear about why you would... That is, after seeing the amount of masculine interest that you encounter every day at the bakery, it is difficult to comprehend wh—”
Taking pity on him, Leah stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, just a quick, hard peck that cut off his flow of words. Pulling back reluctantly, she met his surprised gaze. “Are you fishing?”
“Fishing?” His voice had lowered several notes, and it made her shiver in a good way.
“For compliments.”
“No.” He held the door open and then followed her into the apartment. “I’m merely asking for an explanation.”
“I can’t really explain attraction,” she said. “I mean, you’re gorgeous, but it’s not just that. Your prettiness doesn’t explain why I find all your odd little quirks adorable.”
“You find... I...” Apparently, calling him adorable had pushed him back into incoherency. Leah turned, about to kiss him again, since it had solved the problem last time, plus she just wanted to kiss him now that they were in the privacy of the apartment.
“Leah!”
Annabelle’s wail stopped her before she could jump on Hamilton again, and she grimaced in disappointment before giving him an apologetic look. She headed toward the kitchen, where her roommate’s voice had come from. “What’s wrong, Anna B?”
“Tell me I didn’t make a huge, life-wrecking, selfish, impulsive, stupid mistake!” Annabelle came into the living room before Leah could make it to the kitchen. Stopping abruptly, Leah choked back a laugh. Annabelle had her one-piece flannel pajamas on, and her hair was flat on one side, looking as if she hadn’t brushed it since she slept on it. Her face was pale and panicked and a little puffy from tears, and her clear distress made it easier to swallow back her laughter.
“Unless you’ve made another monumental decision since I last saw you, you have not made a life-destroying mistake.” She gathered Annabelle in a hug, and her roommate dropped her head onto Leah’s shoulder. Stroking her hair, Leah glanced back at Hamilton, who was standing awkwardly by the door. Before he could offer to leave, and she lost her Hamilton-shaped teddy bear and sex toy for the night, she waved him over. He approached, watching them both cautiously, as if he was expecting her to hand over a weepy Annabelle. “Let’s go in the kitchen. Ham can cook, you can tell me why you’re acting like you just signed a sex-slave contract with the creepy guy who lives down the hall.”
“Gross.” Annabelle’s voice sounded a little watery, but there was also a hint of a laugh. Leah gently nudged Annabelle back into the kitchen, and Hamilton followed, looking wary. Relieved that he wasn’t running for the door, Leah sat down at the table, and Annabelle fell into the seat across from her before immediately dropping her forehead onto her crossed arms.
“Okay. First, Ham, would you mind making something? Anything you find is fine.” For some reason, she expected him to balk, but he just nodded, placed the bakery box on the counter, and went to the fridge. It reminded her that he lived alone, so he had to be used to feeding himself. He couldn’t rely on Vietnamese takeout every night. Tearing her gaze and thoughts away from Hamilton, she looked at the miserable lump of Annabelle. “What happened, sweetie?”
“I started looking for jobs today.” Her voice was muffled against her crossed arms, but Leah could still understand what she was saying. “There’s nothing out there. Nothing. Nada. I’m not even talking about in my area. Unless I want to work in collections or the night shift at the gas station, I’m going to be unemployed forever.” Raising her head, she grabbed for a notebook sitting on the table. “Here, let me show you. Here’s what I have in savings, and these are my monthly expenses, so in just four and a half months I’m going to be completely broke, and I’ll have to go to Florida and beg my parents to let me sleep on their pullout couch, but I’ll have to try that only four and a quarter months from now, since I’ll need money for the bus ticket to get to Florida, and I hate Florida.” She looked at Leah with mournful eyes. “I can’t tell you how much I hate Florida.”
She tugged the notebook out of Annab
elle’s hands. “It’s not going to come to that, because you are going to find the perfect job, and it’s not going to be in collections or at a gas station.”
“Do you think I should learn how to drive a semi?” She reached for the notebook.
“No.” Leah moved it out of Annabelle’s reach, putting it on the seat of the chair next to her. “You can barely drive a car.”
“I can so drive a car. I’m a good driver.”
Leah coughed, but decided to let it go for the moment. “Right. Still, no reason to drive a truck. Think of how boring that would get.”
“They have CB radios,” Annabelle said. “I could think of a funny handle, chat with some nice truckers, maybe meet my truck-driving soul mate.”
“No. No truck driving, soul mate or no soul mate.”
“I don’t want to live on my parents’ pullout couch. It’s in Florida, Leah. Florida.”
“You won’t.” Reaching across the table, Leah covered Annabelle’s hands in hers. “You are going to live here until you find a new job—a new, wonderful job.”
“There aren’t any wonderful jobs. There are only suck-ass jobs, and I have all the wrong qualifications to even get one of those. I might as well accept that I’m going to be a jobless loser living with my parents in Florida until I’m ninety.”
“I sent Louis your résumé. He said he’d call you.”
At Hamilton’s matter-of-fact statement, both Leah and Annabelle went quiet, staring at each other with wide eyes. When they didn’t respond, he turned away from the mixing bowl he was measuring spices into and looked at them, his eyebrows raised.
Leah reached for the notebook holding all of Annabelle’s panicked, depressing financial figures and threw it at Hamilton. “Ham! Are you kidding me right now?”
He caught it, looking baffled and a touch disgruntled. “I thought Annabelle was interested in working with him.”
“She is!” Leah glanced at Annabelle. “You are, right?” When she nodded, her eyes still huge, Leah turned her attention back to Hamilton. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier? Before the Florida-is-hell or the trucker-soul-mate discussions? That would’ve been helpful.”