Opposites Attract

by Jayce Carter

  And there she went with that gaping-mouth look, where all the planning she did slipped away and she had to actually think of something on the fly, which as it turned out, she was horrible at.

  Gray pushed a bit. “Look, I can come in and fix it or you can call someone else, but if you call anyone else, they probably aren’t going to get here until morning. So you can either let me in or you can be without power till tomorrow. Your choice.”

  The conflict on her face almost made him feel bad. The poor girl was absolutely stuck between needing him and yet wanting him nowhere near her.

  And why exactly did that turn him on? He’d never been the sort of man who loved a chase. Most of the women in his life had come easily, all the teasing-seductress type. It wasn’t that he was lazy, but rather that he’d never seen a reason to go hunting when women came to him.

  If Tabby hadn’t been interested, that would have been it. If she’d hated him, he’d have left her be. Instead, he had tasted her passion the night she’d kissed him—and the more he thought about it, the more he was sure she’d been the one to move first. He’d seen the want in her eyes, knew she was just holding herself back.

  The girl needed this. She needed to let go and have a little fun, and Gray was exactly the sort of quick, no-strings-attached excitement she needed in her life.

  It was probably less the realization and more her desire for electricity that had her moving out of the way.

  Gray grabbed the flashlight from his toolbelt as he walked into her place, though with the candles everywhere, he didn’t need it yet. “LED candles?”

  “They’re safer.”

  “Why do you have so many? It looks like an altar in here.”

  “I like them for baths. It’s called self-care.”

  And off went his brain, imaging Tabby in a white tub, bubbles concealing everything interesting, because it seemed his imagination was a fucking cock-tease.

  He managed to not say anything or let out the heavy groan he wanted to as he followed her through the back slider and into the yard. It was similar to his in size and shape, but where he had a porch made for entertaining, full of comfy furniture and tables to put drinks on, Tabby’s was sparse. There was a single swing that would seat two comfortably with a small side table next to it. That was it—well, there was more perfectly manicured landscaping, but the entire place looked unlived in.

  It made him wish he’d seen more of her house, to see if it was the same. Probably. Lifeless. Dull. Neat.

  He wasn’t a slob, but he also wasn’t anal. Homes were for living in and enjoying. They weren’t museums.

  Around the back corner, on the side of the house, hung the breaker box.

  “I already tried to flip the breaker,” Tabby said with more than a little annoyance in her tone. “I’m not stupid.”

  “Never said you were.” Though how many times had he come out to a place only to find that they had not, in fact, flipped the breaker to see if that would fix it?

  Gray opened the metal box, then cast a look to Tabby who waited with far more space between them than needed. Does she not trust herself around me? “Could you hold the flashlight?”

  “I thought this was your job.”

  “It is, but I usually make people wait till there’s decent light before I come over.”

  “And I’m just special?”

  Yes. “My aunt seems to think so, and I’m smart enough not to piss her off. So why don’t you make this after-hours house call a little easier and just hold the flashlight?”

  She let out a long sigh before doing as he asked, taking the flashlight from him then pointing it into the box. Their fingers didn’t even brush, which was quite the achievement on her part.

  The work was easy, almost mindless. Spend enough years in a trade and someone can do the simple jobs asleep. As he checked the breakers, flipping each, he let himself question her.

  It wasn’t as if she could really run right then.

  “Your sister’s talkative. Friendly, too.”

  “She’s paid to be friendly.”

  His lips curled into a grin at her bite. “Well, now that she knows I’m your neighbor, she always brings my table extra things when I eat at her restaurant. She keeps it up, I’m going put on weight. Though, it’s nice one of you sisters likes me.”

  “Again, she’s being paid. I wouldn’t jump to the idea she likes you just yet. Besides, you’re what? Two decades older than her? Don’t you dare get any ideas.”

  Whether her annoyance was more protective of her sister or out of jealousy, Gray didn’t know. Probably a bit of both.

  “She’s nineteen? Just under two, then. Don’t worry, Tabby, I’m not interested in her.”

  Tabby snorted. “I’ve seen some of those girls who leave your place. They don’t look all that much older.”

  “I’ve got limits. If they can’t dial a rotary phone, I’m out.”

  A huff of air left Tabby as if she’d laughed but tried to silence it.

  He hadn’t heard her laugh yet, and that small a taste was nice. Sweet. Honest.

  It was a good start and made him want more.

  “You’ve got a bad breaker,” he said after conducting his assessment.

  “But I did the flipping-on-and-off thing.”

  He smiled at her petulant tone. “That works when you trip the breaker by overloading it. See how I switch this, and it doesn’t lock into place? Good sign that the breaker is bad.”

  “Can you fix that?”

  “Let me go grab a new one from my garage, and I can get it done in about ten minutes.”

  Tabby tapped her foot as she waited on Gray to return, unable to shake the nerves that ran through her. Why did it have to be him?

  Cindy just had to be his aunt, and she had to call him, of all people, to come and fix the issue? The thought of having no power all night and potentially some of the next day while she found someone to fix it was almost preferable to letting Gray back into her place.

  He was lethal to her self-control. Worse? It had been so easy to hate him when he was blaring his music, when he woke her up by coming home on his motorcycle at two in the morning, when he was surrounded by people who were so clearly not her type.

  Instead, when he’d stood in her place, when he’d shown a surprising level of skill, when she couldn’t see him in the darkness well enough to remember that he was everything she wasn’t supposed to want, Tabby struggled to remind herself.

  Which was stupid. He was the king of hit-it-and-quit-it, and she was anything but a one-night-stand sort of girl.

  Even if he was interested—and she’d guess his interest had more to do with having a convenient body next door than anything more—she wasn’t.

  Keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll believe it.

  “Got it.” Gray’s voice in the darkness of her living room made Tabby jump and let out the most pathetic squeak. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. In fact, the arrogant jerk sounded as if he were smirking…again.

  Telling him anything would only make her look worse, so Tabby kept her mouth shut as she followed him outside again. It was better to keep what little dignity she might have left and get him out of her home as soon as humanly possible. Then look at moving, because clearly the hazards of having Gray next door were far higher than the advantage of cheap rent.

  Tabby held the flashlight again, trying to keep it on the work he was doing. He pulled free a metal piece from the box, revealing all the wires beneath, but when Tabby would have stressed about the dangers of electrical work, Gray appeared entirely at ease.

  Wasn’t that the way of it, though? So far Gray had always seemed comfortable, always secure in whatever he was doing or wherever he was. Nothing seemed to ruffle him, where Tabby tended to have a tiny meltdown whenever the local coffee shop didn’t have the ingredients to make her normal order. Change was not something she dealt with well.

  “So, Becky says she ain’t never seen you really date, Tabby.”
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  “That is none of your business.”

  He shook his head but didn’t seem all that annoyed. Almost charmed, which annoyed her. When Tabby played the shrew, men were supposed to write her off. What sort of idiot was more attracted by her attitude? It seemed like every time she gave clear ‘I am not interested’ signals, he only took them as reasons to try harder.

  “Maybe I just don’t like men.”

  “You liked me well enough when my tongue was down your throat.”

  His bluntness made her cheeks burn and the beam of light waver as she gulped. Play it off. “That was a mistake.”

  “Well, seems like we both enjoy mistakes, then.”

  How can he turn every single rejection into some sort of twisted pick-up line?

  And worse, why did she like it? What’s wrong with me?

  “Do you always try this hard?”

  “No. Usually I don’t have to.”

  “So why don’t you go chase those women who want to be caught instead of focusing this all on me? I haven’t been shy about the fact that I’m not interested.”

  Gray turned to face her, his features obscured in shadows. They made him look more dangerous, some of the light catching on the red of what had to be a rose tattooed on the side of his neck, his blue eyes impossibly dark. “Because I don’t do anything that doesn’t sound good. I find you fun. No, don’t roll your eyes—you might not be my normal type of fun, but that doesn’t change that I still get a kick out of bickering with you. I figure if there’s this much fire with us arguing, just imagine where else that could go?”

  And that was exactly what she did. Without meaning to—because she would have shut that down in a heartbeat—Tabby pictured what it would be like with Gray.

  He’d be confident. All those things Tabby had thought about before but never risked, Gray would know all about them. She wouldn’t have to worry, wouldn’t have to second-guess herself because it wouldn’t be anything long term. It would be a quick fling, a chance to work out what she liked with someone who knew all the ropes.

  “Come on, Tabby. Tell me yes. Give yourself the chance to have a little fun, to be crazy, to do something just because you want to and not because it’s expected or because you have to.”

  She was so ready to say yes. She wanted to pull his shirt up, to find each tattoo and follow the carefully placed lines of them. She’d kiss over every inch of him, a far cry from her one-and-done teenage attempt the over-confident scrawny jerk who had never called her again.

  But then she remembered those women, each one who had walked out of his place looking satisfied beyond belief. They were all the same. Sexy. Confident. Nothing like her.

  She’d give in, and Gray would realize she was foolish, just a kid who’d never grown up when it came to sex.

  The last thing she needed was to end up ridiculed again.

  “How much longer is this supposed to take?” Her words were soft and strained.

  Gray reached over and flipped the breakers on, the lights in the house coming to life. “Finished a few minutes ago.”

  And he was waiting just to make fun of me some more. Of course.

  Tabby rebuilt her walls, the light enough for her to see not only Gray but her moment of stupidity for what it was. It wasn’t fun-crazy that people did to burn off steam. Nope, it was the sort that would leave wounds when she ended up a laughingstock.

  “Well, thanks.”

  He shook his head and reached out.

  Right, the flashlight.

  Tabby placed it in his palm, but he shifted to cover her hands with his, pulling her closer until she could feel the heat pouring off his very warm body.

  He looked down at her, eyes intense and hungry. When had anyone ever looked at her like that? “You know, eventually you need to get over that bullshit in your head.”

  “Not wanting to be another in your string of one-night stands doesn’t seem like bullshit to me. Seems like good sense.”

  “Yeah, well, my one-night stands leave happy. You really going to tell me you’re all that happy going to bed alone every night? Because, before you lie to me, I can see it.”

  “We’re not all like you.” She meant for those words to imply that not everyone slept around for some weird sense of fulfillment, yet it came out sadder. It came out as though she wasn’t like him, but she wished she were. Which wasn’t what she’d meant. Right?

  “Tell me whatever lies you want, Tabby, but just make sure you aren’t lying to yourself, too.”

  With that, he released her. He didn’t lean down and take a kiss, didn’t try to coax her into bed—I am absolutely not disappointed by that, not one bit—didn’t even try to act as if sex were somehow expected as payment.

  The traits that normally she’d have valued suddenly annoyed her. Where did he get off acting noble? It put her on the defensive, made her feel like she were the unreasonable one.

  If he had tried any of that, she could have written him off as an unrepentant asshole and she’d have steady ground beneath her.

  Instead, the warmth of his hands and the tingle on her lips from the almost-kiss was all he left her with.

  Maybe I should have just lived without power.

  Chapter Three

  Gray handed a beer over to his Aunt Cindy, never failing to be amused by the tiny seventy-year-old woman, currently with a wrinkled hand around her beer bottle.

  Then again, his aunt was the sort of woman who made men both want to and fear getting married. She had no issue taking to task anyone who thought to step out of line, and she’d had thirty years to perfect that with her husband before his death.

  It was one reason Gray had moved into the duplex, one of the six on the street his aunt owned. She’d done okay for the first few years after her husband’s death, but in the past year, keeping up with the rentals had become too much.

  She didn’t have children of her own, but his family had always been tight, so he hadn’t minded stepping in. Besides, it landed him with free rent while he helped her manage the other places. And it put him next door to that stubborn woman who was avoiding him, yet again.

  “Thank you.” Cindy took her first sip of the opened beer. “And for taking care of Tabby’s power the other night.”

  “No problem.” Gray took his seat in the chair, settling in to wait and see exactly what his aunt had come by to say.

  She never showed up for nothing, but she also couldn’t be rushed. She’d tell him what she wanted when she was good and ready and not a moment before that.

  Which left Gray nursing his own beer and waiting. Had Tabby gone running to Cindy?

  Maybe he’d read her wrong. Maybe she hadn’t been interested and felt the need to get Cindy involved? If so, Gray would apologize if he could and keep his distance after that. The last thing he wanted was to cause Tabby any real trouble or upset.

  Instead, Cindy said the last thing he expected when she finally did decide to speak. “Are you gay?”

  Gray sputtered his drink, some dribbling down his chin as the unexpected question hit him. He wiped his face with his before landing a ‘just what the hell are you talking about’ look at Cindy, since it wasn’t like he could come out and say that. “Why would you ask that?”

  “You’re thirty-five and not married.”

  “That means I’m single, not gay.”

  “Your mother always wanted to see you get married, but she’s gone.” A sorrow filled Cindy’s eyes, one that showed how much she missed her sister, Gray’s mother. No one expected death, but somehow when it happened out of the blue, when it was a freak car accident, it was even harder.

  No one ever thinks to say goodbye.

  Cindy drew in a deep breath as if shoving down that hurt. “Ever since she left us, I’ve done what I can to watch over you.”

  “You’ve done great, but what does that have to do with me being gay?”

  “I don’t have so many years left and I want to know you aren’t alone. If you like men, that’s fine. I’
m as happy to pick out a tux as I am a dress.”

  “Not to overshare, but trust me, I ain’t gay.”

  “Oh, I am well aware of the parade of women you have. The fact you haven’t picked one to settle down with tells me they were all missing something. I just wanted to make sure you know that if what they were missing was a penis, I wouldn’t be disappointed or upset.”

  Gray shook his head at the earnest look on Cindy’s face. “Thanks, but I’m not into men. I like women. I just ain’t looking to settle down.”

  That blunt rejection might have deterred any other woman, but not his aunt. Cindy took another slow drink of her beer, raking her gaze over Gray just like she had when he’d been a kid and lying through his teeth to get out of trouble. Once she’d rested the bottle against her thigh, she responded. “You know, at my age, you realize how important having people around is.”

  “I’m not alone. I have friends, family.”

  “Having someone to wake up next to every day, that’s different.” The longing on her face, a strange sense of sad contentment, caught him. It was as if she were recalling her life with her late husband and was somewhere between happy and sad, between glad it happened and upset it had ended.

  He tried to imagine himself in such a relationship, to feel that sort of draw to someone else. Everyone he’d ever dated, if he could even call it that, had been casual. They’d never lasted long and had been more about mutual fun than anything more. It had never been building a future, striving or working together.

  “Maybe not everyone is meant to pair up,” Gray admitted. “I’ve never met anyone who made me feel like I couldn’t lose them, like I needed them.”

  “Love, it isn’t about needing someone. That whole ‘we saw each other and couldn’t live apart’ is bull. Love isn’t about someone else fixing you, because no one fixes or changes anyone else. It’s about finding someone whose broken pieces fit well with yours.”

  Gray leaned back in his seat, crossing one ankle over the other knee. Could he do that? Could he make room for someone in his life? Let them change things?