contracted at the memory of his touch.
“Um, hey, Joe.” She didn’t need the sound of his footsteps to tell her he’d come into the kitchen. Her body had an uncanny ability to sense his presence. “Have a good run?”
“Yeah. I like the little park near here. Not too crowded. Nice and pleasant. So, uh, listen.”
“Yeah?” Okay, here it came. The excuses. The apology. She wanted to tell him just to keep his thoughts to himself and then run into her room.
“I have a couple of meetings this afternoon….”
Was that a euphemism for hooking up? Okay, she could handle that.
“Have a nice time.” She sipped at the orange juice.
“Anyway, I thought if you didn’t have any plans for tonight, I’ve got some DVDs of games I need to watch before my show starts up again. I know you like football. It isn’t Montana, but I’d like it if you’d watch them with me. Get your opinion on some things. If you want to, that is.”
Did she want to? Hell, yes. She also wanted to get completely naked with him. Too bad what he offered didn’t sound close to an invitation to seduction. She’d shut him down that morning when he wanted to bring up last night, but maybe that was a mistake.
“Um, yeah. Sounds okay.” Right. Couldn’t let him know her hormones were jumping up and down. She could wait and read whatever signals he sent out.
“So how about if I pick up some Chinese on the way home and maybe some dessert?”
Now she turned to look at him. She had to see the expression on his face, but it was carefully blank. But the blatant heat in his eyes nearly ate her alive. Allrighty, then! The muscles in her pussy gave a hopeful flutter and her mouth suddenly went dry. She cleared her throat.
“That would be very nice. Thank you.” Orange juice in hand, she eased out of the kitchen.
“See you around six,” he called after her.
Her nasty voice, the one she’d been listening to for so many years, wanted to ask him if the afternoon would give him enough time. But he was being so nice she pressed her lips tightly together to keep from saying anything. At least until she knew what his game was. Because this Joe Reilly was nothing like the one she’d always known. She wondered just how much of it was an act.
* * * *
“Shay?” He called out her name as he carried his packages into the kitchen. “I brought goodies.”
Silence greeted him and his stomach dropped as he realized she might have gone out. Maybe she’d had second thoughts, regretted last night, and planned to just avoid him until he left town. Then the sound of a door opening broke into his consciousness. Yes! She was here. In a minute the delicious scent of whatever soap she used tickled his nostrils and he sensed her behind him in the kitchen.
“Goodies? Besides the Chinese food?” She pounced on the bakery box on the counter. “Ohmigod! Is this what I think it is? Snickerdoodles?” She started to untie the ribbon.
“Uh-uh-uh.” Joe playfully slapped at her hand. “No dessert until you eat your dinner.”
“Then let’s get to it.” She pulled the big brown paper sack toward her and began removing the cartons of takeout. “What did you get?”
Joe was relieved to hear the casual, almost playful tone in her voice. She’d either decided to pretend last night never happened—bad—or was hopeful it would happen again. That was good, right? Right? He voted for option two.
When he turned to look at her he almost swallowed his tongue. Her hair, the color of corn silk, fell softly to her shoulders, framing her face. He wanted to fist his hands in it, let it sift through his fingers. White shorts cupped her sweet ass and she’d paired them with a T-shirt, the soft fabric the same deep blue as her eyes and draped gently over her breasts. Oh, God, were her nipples actually visible through the material? No makeup except some pink gloss slicked over her lips, but as far as Joe was concerned, she didn’t need anything else. Didn’t those lips just beg to be kissed? He had to stop himself from licking his own.
Shit. Kill me now.
He was in such big fucking trouble here. How the hell was he supposed to take things slow? How could he make time to establish a new relationship with this woman—and she most definitely was a woman, not a little girl—when just looking at her made him hot as a pistol and harder than steel?
Suck it up, he told himself and grabbed two of the cartons from her. He was anxious to have something to do with his hands before he put them all over her.
“Here, I’ll do that. Why don’t you get the plates and silverware?”
“What’s in this other bag?” She unrolled the flap on a white paper sack. “Ice cream?” She squealed like the little kid he remembered. “Cookies and cream. Yum, yum, yum.”
He took the sack away from her and shoved it in the freezer. “Like I said, dinner first. This is to ease the pain while I bore you with a bunch of football crap later.”
She cocked her eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look. “Boring? Football? You must have me confused with someone else.”
“Okay.” He chuckled. “It’s just not Joe Montana football.”
“I’ll suffer through it.” She turned away from him and busied herself with plates and silverware. “Come on, let’s eat. I’m starved.”
Joe made sure to sit across from Shay at the table, not next to her. He needed to avoid touching her as much as possible. Put distance between them until he could figure this thing out. As it was, it took every bit of the discipline he’d learned playing football to look away from the way her T-shirt fabric caressed her breasts, the outline of her nipples visible beneath the soft material. His blood pulsed heavily through his veins, pressure building in his cock. He hoped if Shay noticed him drooling she’d think it was for the Chinese food. He gave thanks the table hid his ranging hard-on, which apparently appeared now whenever he was in her presence.
Conversation. They needed conversation. Anything to distract his body and his little head, which seemed to think it was in charge.
“Sorry New York turned out to be a bust for you.”
Shay speared a piece of orange chicken, popped it into her mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. When she licked a drop of sauce from her lower lip Joe was afraid he’d combust right there at the table. The look she gave him reminded him they’d had this discussion before but he was desperate for a safe conversational topic. Anything that dropped a virtual ice cube in his pants and cooled him off.
“It was okay for a while. I had the big-city adventure and scored a fabulous job.” She shrugged. “The bloom just wore off quickly. Besides, I’m a Texas girl through and through.” Her voice was flat and uninflected.
Joe would give a lot to know what was really behind her decision to move back.
“So, no hot guys?” he teased. “No broken hearts left behind when you came home?” He made his voice as casual as possible.
Another bite of chicken. More chewing. Joe tried
