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She noticed a half dozen children of varying ages gathered on the sidewalk, watching. Two straddled bicycles, one held a skateboard and another was on roller skates. The remaining two were on foot. The myriad transportation options available to the young. She idly imagined skateboarding to work if she eventually found a small place near the theater.
Which she would do if she was planning on a long term stay in Matthews, which she wasn't. The thought wouldn't have occurred to her, if not for a couple over-the-top experiences with a skinny, young roofer who didn't seem that skinny or young when his strong arms were holding her, or he had her captured in his ropes.
Which was exactly why she was here and needed to go through with this, even if she had to have the discussion in front of a battalion of wide-eyed grade schoolers and sweaty men in tool belts.
She'd parked near the kids. Since she had the windows down, she heard several of them call out. "Do the Slinky. Slinky!"
As she glanced back at the house, she discovered the roofing crew coming down the ladders. They must be taking a scheduled break. She took it as a sign, one that made her feel better and worse about the chances for her private conversation that couldn't wait.
She looked to see if Des was one of the men coming down and didn't locate him. Then she lifted her gaze to the roof and did.
He was by himself, standing straight and tall as if he wasn't on a steep incline that looked miles above the ground. When he raised a hand to acknowledge the kids, they whooped in response.
His hair was tied back under a bill cap, and he wore a gray T-shirt with some kind of logo on it over his jeans. Standing on one leg and then the other, demonstrating the balance of a flamingo, he removed his work shoes and socks. Putting the socks in the shoes, he tossed them off the roof, letting them thud to the ground.
"What is he..." She'd left the car and was a few feet from the knot of children. None of them noticed her, their eyes all on Des. A blink later, she understood why. Her heart jumped into her throat.
Up on the spine of the roof, he levered himself into a nimble handstand, his back to his audience. He held the pose for several beats, then slowly let his feet come over his head, down toward the roof's slope. It seemed like an impossible angle for anyone's spine, but then everything speeded up. His feet came down to complete the full backbend, and he used the propulsion to catapult him swiftly to his feet and forward into another handstand, but this time he didn't pause. Julie bit back a cry.
As he kept going, building speed, he did look like a Slinky going down a set of stairs. Three times, and he was at the edge of the roof. He somehow slowed his forward progress enough to hold himself up in a handstand again. He twisted around and his body swung toward the house like a trapeze artist, his toes finding purchase against the siding. He hung there for a second, then pumped his feet out and he let go, dropping two stories to the ground, light as a cat. As the kids cheered, he did a standing somersault and took a bow in their direction.
Julie noticed some of the other contractors chuckling and waving at him, that gesture that communicated yeah, you're a crazy bastard. This was apparently all routine. Since the kids had called for "the Slinky", she guessed it was.
As the children moved off, the show over, she saw Des's attention shift and find her. His brown eyes lit with pleasure, which made her want to ignore all the warning signs of a crushed heart. That was why they called it a crush, right? Because the heart could
be frozen, pulverized and served up like a snow cone.
He put his shoes and socks back on, and said something to a couple of the guys. A few wolf whistles followed him across the street, which he answered with a quick flipped bird and a comment she didn't catch but they did, laughing him off. She heard them using the same name for him the kids had.
"Slinky?" she said as he approached with that relaxed, sinuous walk he had.
"Yeah, it kind of stuck. I actually thought about it as a scene name, the Kinky Slinky, but it was too campy. And I'm not really into scene names. I like just Des."
"Good decision. What else did they say?" She nodded toward the men.
"The usual. Tell her when she wants a real man, they'll be here waiting. And that you're way too hot for me, which that part is true."
She flushed, even as she felt silly for the unsophisticated reaction. "What did you say back?"
"To the real man thing? That you didn't have any use for a guy choking on his own broken teeth. What are you doing here? Just couldn't wait one more day to see me covered in work filth?"
"Oh, you're nothing next to the homeless guy behind the theater. He hasn't bathed since Y2K."
"I'm surprised you could keep your hands off him." He smiled, but his brown eyes were suddenly far more focused on her. "I'm going to get you dirty, so you'll just have to deal. You've been avoiding me, and you're the best looking thing I've seen all day."
"Um...since you're working with a bunch of equally grungy men, I think I'm insulted."
"Come here." Ignoring that, he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her to him with that effortless overwhelming strength that didn't give her breath for refusal before he was kissing her. Yes, he was dirty, but beneath it, he was Des. She pressed her body against him, reveling in his hands pushing into her hair, taking control, possessing her from head to toe.
When he lifted his head, she blinked and blurted it out. Desperately. "I can't do this anymore."
He drew back and studied her expression. "Do what?"
"Let you overwhelm me with the Dom thing and the rope thing and these kinds of kisses that only happen in The Princess Bride. And how old are you anyway? For real? You won't even tell me that, because this doesn't mean anything to you."
As his brow furrowed, she bit her lip and revised. "I didn't mean it to sound like that. Of course it means something to you. It's your art, like a religion, and I'm like a canvas or an altar. I should be grateful for any moment I get like that, because how many women get the chance to be worshipped? To totally be the center of a man's attention to that depth and intensity, ever. It's an incredible gift, like going on a once in a lifetime trip or doing something on your bucket list."
She shook her head fiercely, denying herself. "But I don't want the once in a lifetime trip. I want the whole lifetime. I want eggs for breakfast, or pancakes or cereal. I want those kinds of decisions with someone I love, not jumping out of an airplane or saving baby seals in Alaska, though I don't want seals hurt. What I'm trying to say is that, for me, quiet moments are just as breathtaking as adrenaline shit is to other people."
