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“I’m good at pretending. On the inside, I’m a wreck.”
She smiled at him, and after a moment he rewarded h
er with a reluctant version of his sexy smirk.
“We really were perfectly safe this time.”
“There’s no such thing as perfectly safe.”
Ellen lifted her knee and planted one foot against the siding. “Don’t be such a downer. I can’t handle negativity tonight. I had another death-march day.”
“Me, too.”
“Oh, yours couldn’t possibly have been as bad as mine.”
“No?”
“I snuck out for the first time in my life this morning, and I got caught.”
“The first time in your life?”
“And then I ran into my ex-husband, which I try very hard never to do, and he called me ‘Els’ and told me he wanted to see more of me and Henry, which is nightmarishly bad.”
“ ‘Els’ is a really terrible nickname,” Caleb said with an agreeable nod, and she was grateful for the levity. There had been so little of it today.
“And then this big, angry man showed up and drilled holes in my house—”
“And played with your kid for an hour.”
“—and gave my son all kinds of ideas about how he should get his own screwdriver, and maybe a drill for his birthday. And this obnoxious guy sent circus-freak workmen over to make even larger holes in my house without my permission—”
Caleb pointed his index finger, a pistol of emphasis, and said, “Because he’s trying to keep you safe, despite your stubbornness.”
Ellen smiled and let her eyes drift to her trail shoes. “And you’re not going to believe this, but he hit on me. It was so weird, and unbelievably badly timed—”
“You loved it, too.”
“It was completely gross. And all I wanted to do tonight was watch The Big Sleep in the dark, in my room, and pretend to be Lauren Bacall, but instead Carly made me go for a walk, and now you’re probably going to give me a lecture.”
“I’d rather give you a spanking.”
The thought made her snort, even as it gave her a naughty thrill. “Just so we know where we stand.”
When she dared to look up, he was grinning at her. “I’m standing right here, trying to figure out why I haven’t kissed you yet.”
“You’re not standing, you’re slouching. And you haven’t kissed me because we just met yesterday, so kissing would be way out of line. Plus, you have a couple employees who are probably watching us right now, so you can’t even afford to look like you want to kiss me, much less actually go through with it.”
“It’s going to be fantastic, though, when we finally do it. Fireworks are going to go off. Pyrotechnic kissing. Your hair will probably catch on fire.”
She laughed, and some internal switch flipped from Maybe to Definitely. It was his confidence. Not egotism, but the optimism of a guy who was accustomed to being competent at everything. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
“I am.”
“You think I’m going to walk over there and throw myself at you any second, don’t you?”
There was an energy between them now, a thread of sexual possibility that created crackling excitement on the surface of her skin. It was really rather a lot of fun.
Day in and day out, she walked around with all the sexual power of a Twinkie, but here she was somehow making his eyes go all louche and predatory, and it gave her such a heady rush. She imagined herself in dominatrix boots and black leather, tying him to her bedposts. Unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the solid, beautiful body beneath. Dark skin. Dark hair. White teeth smiling up at her, or grimacing as she gave him pleasure so intense, it was almost pain.
