by Jule McBride
He glanced up. “You said you had an echo.”
“What are you doing?” She didn’t know which was worse, his physical invasion of her work space or seeing her computer in so many pieces. She was obsessive about backing up work, but she couldn’t afford another down day, not after blowing off today. She’d told herself she wasn’t getting involved with him, and this was a reminder of why.
She could buy another computer, if she really had to, she decided. Because of her move she had so many other expenses, though. Unwanted tears suddenly pushed at her eyes. How many times had she told herself that a man would just complicate her life? She tried to stay calm. “What’s on your head?”
“A head-strap magnifier, so I can see the parts.”
“Parts? That’s my computer! My work!”
He only now seemed to realize she was upset. “I know. That’s why I’m fixing it, Ari.”
“You didn’t ask me! You have to ask!”
“You were asleep.” His frown deepened, and she made a soft sound of protest. Had he really expected her to be thrilled at him unscrewing everything metal within a twenty-foot radius? It looked like he’d snooped through her scripts, too. She felt a little violated.
“I don’t sleep. I only need about four hours a night. At least that’s how it was before I met you.” He ventured a smile.
“I make you sleep?”
“Like the dead. And I don’t usually take naps. Anyway, I woke up and...”
“Decided to destroy my office?”
Now he looked amused, his lips curling, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and she hated how her heart softened, since she wanted to stay mad at him right now.
“The echo’s not in the room, the way you thought, or in your headphones. It’s your sound board, but instead of configuring it the way it was, I’m ramping it up.”
The words ramping it up were echoing in her head while he rambled in techno jargon, every new term making her worry more. Technologically speaking, she was as current as anyone and couldn’t get by without her smartphone, but he was using words she’d never heard. As intently as he’d been studying the piece in the tweezers, he was now studying her mussed hair and the robe, which was gaping to her navel.
“I don’t want it ramped up. I liked it the way it was.”
He gave her a pointed look. “With an echo?”
“Better than having it completely taken apart! I don’t know you, not really,” she managed to say. “And I don’t have a second home and my own helicopter. That’s my only computer. I have to use it for work. Work!” she repeated, her voice rising. “And where did you get that magnifier thing, anyway?”
“In my car.”
“You carry around a magnifier? And those tools?”
“Yes.”
“And you were reading my scripts?”
“Not all,” he defended, looking like he wanted to get back to studying whatever he’d trapped in the tweezers. His broad chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath, then his lips compressed and he held his breath a second, as if trying to decide the best way to handle her. Watching him gingerly set the tweezers on the desk, she couldn’t help but marvel at his hands. As huge as they were, they really could manipulate tiny, intricate things, just as she’d suspected. She was panicked about the computer, yes, but as Bruno rose, took off the magnifier gizmo, and came closer, her belly fluttered, her blood quickening. His scent and warmth were doing crazy things to her again, but somehow, she’d have to ignore it. “I can’t kiss you right now,” she forced herself to say. Maybe never.
He seemed to be considering kissing her, anyway, but he reached down instead, twined his fingers in hers and urged her into the hallway, then the living room. “I figured out you did the Road Rover commercial. You’re probably the main reason I bought my car.” He paused. “Your voice reminded me of the ad, but in real life, you sound a lot sexier, so I didn’t think it was you.”
“Thank you,” she managed to answer.
“And I’m impressed. Jealous, actually. You’re very entrepreneurial.”
Usually she was. And probably, he was just trying to flatter her because she was so upset. Thinking about work again made her think about the gazillion metal pieces all over her worktable, but by then, he’d stopped in front of the sofa where they’d had such delicious orgasms. Recalling that filled her with longing, and as she sat down, one of the sexy fingers that had stroked her entire body, as well as taken apart her computer, was now stroking her cheek.
“I know you’re really mad, but you’re not going to cry,” he said, sounding firm on that.
She was trying not to, she really was. Everything had been so nice up until now. He was right about her loving sex with him. She’d never experienced anything like it. Definitely, she wanted to pursue what was happening between them, but she felt scared, too. She had so many big plans, dreams and ambitions. What if a relationship held her back? Reaching across her, he lifted the remote. “Do me a favor. Watch TV. Just for an hour. And if you hear a ding from the kitchen, it’s the timer.”
Realizing he’d made himself at home in her kitchen, as well, she uttered another sound of protest. “Did you go through my drawers, too?”
“Just the underwear.”
She gasped. “What?”
“I’m kidding, Ari. Just listen for the timer, okay? I put the spinach pie in right before you woke up, so it’ll be ready in fifty minutes.”
“You made a spinach pie? That’s what I was going to make.”
“When I saw the groceries, I assumed that.”
“But I was going to make it!”
“I think you’ll find I’m a passable cook.” He clicked the on button and set the remote in her lap. Then he settled a big, warm hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Just do this for me, okay?”
She really didn’t like being bossed around. “What do you do, anyway?”
“You mean, for a living?”
When he chuckled, she felt her heart stutter. It was such a nice sound. Very throaty and male. “Now you’re making fun of me!”
“Well, it is funny. I’ve been touching you all over, but your computer is off limits.” Before she could say anything in her defense, he continued, “And thank you for your interest. Finally. I was wondering how long you’d let me fuck your brains out before you’d start asking questions about me.”
“I didn’t ask a lot of questions because I wasn’t going to get involved!”
He was still smiling. “That means you’re going to get involved now?”
He was hard to resist. “Maybe.”
“Good. I’m a contract worker, doing work mostly for the federal government, sometimes international. I design city power grids. I have double PhDs from M.I.T. and taught at Georgetown for a term before deciding I didn’t like academia. I don’t like people supervising my work, either, and I’m sorry to say that includes you. Which is why I want you to watch TV for an hour.” He paused, clearly realizing he’d gotten a little dictatorial. “Or you can read or whatever of course.”
“Thanks,” she managed to say. As if what he did with his hot hands, mouth, and the rest of his anatomy wasn’t intimidating enough. And she was still registering that he’d acknowledged they were now involved. He was standing beside the sofa, which meant her mouth was dangerously close to his intimate parts, close enough that she could smell his musky, well-loved body. His smile broadened as if to say he was reading her mind. She added, “You can’t even be
old enough to have done all that.”
“Skipped two grades, started M.I.T. when I was fifteen.” She still didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but when he did the lean-dippy thing, bending sideways to peer into her eyes, his smoky grays were imploring, emphatic, and made clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer. In her mind, she saw the mess he’d made of her studio and wondered if she really had any choice. Still, it all seemed very dubious. “You design power grids?”
“Yes. And we’re German. My dad was born outside Frankfurt and came here, as a scientist to work in aerospace. In school, kids made fun of me because I was the geek who’d been promoted into their class.” He leaned another inch, his eyes capturing hers, his fingers catching her chin. He lifted her face to his. “I know you said you didn’t want to kiss me right now. So, I’m going to kiss you, instead.”
His lips delivered a slow, warm, delicious kiss, and he ended it just as soon as her tummy started feeling warm and runny and she was aching all over for more. After he retreated down the hallway, she forced herself to channel surf. More bad weather, possible snow. Some counties had storm damage from today’s wind. She paused on a Law and Order rerun she’d seen about ten times, then bypassed The People’s Court and lingered on Leverage and Criminal Minds. Not even the most lurid crime dramas took her mind off the kiss, and whatever Bruno Brandt was doing down the hallway, so she was glad when the timer dinged.
The pie did look good. Tasted better. She’d planned to use milk, egg, bacon and cheese, but he’d added broccoli, curry spices and a tomato she’d forgotten she had. Glad for the excuse to check on him, she fixed him a plate and went toward the bedroom, her gaze sweeping past unassembled boxes. Thankfully, she owned mostly furniture, which movers could get, but now she felt a little sad, probably why she hadn’t yet packed her dishes and clothes. She’d put so much energy into her bungalow, and she really hoped she found tenants who wouldn’t ruin it. She wanted Lizzie’s wedding to go off without a hitch, too, she thought as she passed the spare room where her blue silk bridesmaid’s dress was hanging on a door.
Relief flooded her when she saw her computer reassembled. Bruno’s back was to her, and he was wearing her headphones. As if sensing her, he swiveled the chair and crooked a finger, motioning to her. She set down the plate, and he caught her waist. Once she was nestled in his lap, he transferred the headphones to her head, saying, “See what you think.”
She played back some of her earlier work, then tried recording, repeatedly saying, “The Learning Investment,” then, “If you feel drowsy, call your doctor.” She couldn’t believe it; the echo was gone. In fact, the sound was incredible. Very professional. Taking off the headphones, she looked into his eyes. “You’re brilliant.”
He nodded. “Technically true.”
Suddenly, she became aware of him. She was in his lap, nude under the robe, and he was wearing only underwear. The whole tempting shape of him was curving right against her butt. Her breath catching, she glanced toward the pie. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Very,” he assured, pulling her closer, running his hands under her hair and flexing his fingers against her scalp as he brought her face to his for a warm quick kiss that heated her blood, her robe falling open as he turned her in the chair so she could straddle him. “Starving, actually. You?”
“I have an appetite,” she conceded.
Chapter Seven
Ari tried not to feel annoyed as she parked at the mall, but because she was self-employed, Mom Mad always asked her to run daytime family errands. Unlike Lizzie, Ari didn’t have a job, according to Mom Mad. In reality, Ari worked three times the hours and paid taxes usually covered by employers, not that she was complaining. But all the time she’d spent with Bruno during the past week had made it seem necessary to be more productive. He kept asking her about work, not wanting to be the cause of her falling behind, so now she was actually ahead of schedule. Since the echo was gone, she had a good feeling about the Learning Investment MP3, too, and she’d sent it to the agent.
Ari just wasn’t in the mood to pick up rice bags and bring them to Lizzie’s office, but on the upside, Mom Mad would be appreciative, not that Ari would ever be complimented as much as Lizzie. Hard to believe, in just two weeks, Lizzie would be a Mrs. The wedding was all they’d talked about during yesterday’s Sunday dinner, and now, Ari wished Bruno had come, especially after accepting the invitation, but he’d been stuck in Chicago overnight.
Mom Mad hadn’t seemed to believe he’d been at work, though, no matter what Ari said. He was an incredibly busy man, sometimes flying to other cities just for the day. Otherwise, he worked at a temporary office near the mall, or at his field site thirty miles away, where he was overseeing a new electric installation so Blackwater Inlet would have fewer storm outages.
Librarian that she was, Mom Mad had printed every internet reference to Bruno, and while Ari wasn’t proud of it, she’d probably spent more time than Mom and Dad Mad reading all the articles. You would have thought Ari had found the Holy Grail of men, though, and that bothered her. Whatever was happening between her and Bruno was private. She couldn’t let it get mixed up with how much she sometimes sought approval from her folks.
As it had turned out, everything he’d claimed about his background was true, and internet pictures showed him posing at national science fairs with various awards, and entering M.I.T. at fifteen. Given his background and achievements, Mom Mad had decided to pretend the elevator incident had never happened, and she was singing Bruno’s praises to the skies. They’d also found out Bruno had lost his mother to breast cancer the previous year, the day before Christmas. Mom Mad had clipped the obit, putting Ari in a bind she resented. She couldn’t mention his loss without explaining that Mom Mad had created a folder about him. And if he did mention his mother, and she acted like she didn’t know she’d died, Ari would feel dishonest.
Anyway, it was only a fling, she told herself, as she entered the mall near the sunglass kiosk. But no... Her heart skipped a beat. It was more. Already, she could tell, and the possibility of the relationship being long term was making her jittery. Why did the idea of settling down always make her feel a bit trapped? Would she ever get over that? Setting down a shopping bag containing the wrapped bundles of rice, she made small talk with Evert Roberts, who was behind the counter, as she tried on some Kenneth Coles, thinking they were nice but not for her, even if the olive frames matched her pullover sweater dress exactly.
The service Bruno had hired to unpack him was coming this week, and he wanted to retain them an extra day, so they could pack her house, since it would free up time she could spend with him. Should she let him? He’d made it all sound so logical. And if there was any proof he wasn’t clingy it was the fact that he would help her move away from him, right? Apparently, he meant to live in D.C. after his job here was done and use the cottage as a weekender. Soon, they would not even be living in nearby cities. As she pushed a pair of Jason Wu’s onto her nose, liking the bridge piece, but not the super dark lenses, she replayed the conversation about the boxes.
I don’t want you spending money on me, she’d protested, only to wind up feeling like a stupid feminist from the 1980s, who wouldn’t let men open doors for her. The fact was, Bruno had more money and she’d rather be working or spending time with him than packing. It was stupid to buy more boxes when he was going to have empties, anyway, and had intended to put them in the Craigslist free section.
Surveying round-framed Kate Spades with tiny flowers by the sidebars, she exclaimed, “Love them!” Gasping at the price tag, she put them back on the rack, picked up the shopping bag and went to the elevator, suddenly frowning. For a second, she thought she’d seen Gavin. He was going to h
ave to quit lurking around Lizzie, since she was marrying The Dentist in only two more weeks. The elevator was taking forever, and Ari had almost decided to use the stairs, but the doors opened. Getting in, she pressed two, then stepped back.
“Bruno?” She did a double take. She’d thought the person behind her was a shopper.
He grinned. He looked exceptionally hot today. He only wore suits to meetings, as it turned out, so he had on jeans. Instead of his good camel coat, he’d worn a tan raincoat over a brown pullover shirt, the clothes not nearly heavy enough for the cold weather in her opinion. He was staring at her very intently...wickedly.
“Oh, no.” She laughed as the doors closed, understanding why he’d worn a trench coat. She’d told him about her errands, so he must have been waiting for her. She shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
Gliding a hand under her chin, he lifted her face. “See my eye? It’s completely healed. I’ve recovered from my last attempt.”
“We’ve...” she paused wondering which word to use. “Made love plenty of times since you were arrested.” She sent him a long look. “Are you really looking for more punishment?”
“Yes, Ari.”
Laughing, she realized this must be a fantasy of his, because his jaw had slackened, his breath had become a soft pant, and his eyes had turned downright dreamy. All at once, the arc of his arm swung behind them, he pressed Stop, and the elevator jolted to a halt. Shaking her head, she backed away, a palm held out. “Whoa!” But as her spine hit the elevator wall, his big body was on her, the sheer urgency making sparks spiral into her blood.
A hurried husky whisper made her core ache. “We don’t have much time.”
She was still in shock as hands threw open her coat, pushed her dress up, and caught the waistband of her tights. Sudden dampness flushed the apex of her thighs, and she gasped, hearing a loud rip.