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There. Not ashamed at all. Just to prove how not ashamed I am as I tuck the package under my arm, I add, “And I’m so glad to have it back. No idea why it wound up at your bar though.”
“Me neither, but I definitely didn’t mind,” he says, but I barely register the words as I look closely at the address on the envelope. That’s weird. That’s not my address.
It’s his.
Which means…
“Oh my god. I know what happened. I must have copied the Sticks and Stones address into my GPS on my way over to pick up my order. Then when I pasted in the address for this, I copied in yours, not mine.”
“Too bad. I was hoping it was subliminal.”
He was?
And wait. Did he just say he didn’t mind that I’d sent this by mistake?
All that red-hot embarrassment slinks away, replaced only by curiosity. “You were hoping I’d sent you a toy?”
He leans closer, like he did last night at the bar. Immediately, I’m caught in his flirt bubble once again. “I did a little research on Risqué Business. They have one-hour delivery. This package arrived an hour after you left,” he says, his green eyes glimmering, asking what his mouth won’t—did you order it while thinking of me?
I don’t answer. Instead, I ask a question of my own, whispering, “Are you a sex-toy detective?”
“Just got my license last night. And I’m enjoying this new line of work immensely,” he says, sending a zing of desire down my chest. “But I’m a little concerned about something, and I’m hoping you can help me out.”
“Sure,” I say, going with it.
Brow creased with concern, he points to the package I’m now holding. “It arrived with lube. But no batteries. Are the batteries coming separately?”
“Yes, that’s often how it works. Simultaneous deliveries aren’t that common.”
“They’re overrated anyway,” he says.
“You think so?”
“It’s more important that ladies go first. And often.”
It’s official. I’ve met my soul mate. “Preach.”
“Do you know what else I learned last night in my recon?”
“Dying to know.”
He glances down at the counter where Kenji’s tapping away on the tablet, ringing up an order. The man of my fantasies looks back to me. “That the dual density simulates the…real thing.” He takes his time saying those last two words, and an electric charge pulses down my spine.
Partly because he did research the purchase. He didn’t just laugh at the silicone schlong. He looked it up. Wanted to understand it. A man who tries to understand the properties of sex toys is my kind of man.
“Yes, that’s why I ordered it,” I say.
“Good to know. Plus, it has seven vibration modes. Seven.” He lets out a low whistle of admiration.
“Seven’s my favorite number.”
“And it has a remote control. For hands-free action.”
“Well, they don’t call it The Command Performance for nothing,” I say.
“Why not just name it The Maestro?”
“You can give it that nickname if you’d like.”
