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At the last minute she remembered Dillon’s flowers. Gotta hide those. No mush allowed. She tucked the jars behind the gauzy white curtains that framed the lone kitchen window. The struggling violet she’d babied all week took the place of honor in the middle.
It took more time to straighten herself up. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks blotchy. Fabulous. He’d be riveted by the sight of her tonight.
She raced through a cool shower and threw on the boy shorts and eyelet-trimmed cami she slept in. Then she eyed herself in the mirror. Hmm, maybe she should go with a strapless bra for a little extra support. While she debated the point, she fiddled with her wet hair, finally tossing it on top of her head in a clip.
The knock on the door answered her bra question succinctly enough, though she was ridiculously conscious of the slight sway of her breasts as she hurried to answer. From the quick glance at her chest Dillon tried to disguise, he’d obviously noticed her lack of mammary support.
She’d noticed something else—namely the aroma of hot Chinese food coming from the bags he carried. Her nose practically wiggled with interest.
Yeah, she was flashing him a message, all right. Do me. But feed me first.
“Alexa?” Warily, he reached out to tip up her chin. After a careful study of her eyes, he nodded and pushed the bags into her hands. “You look hungry.”
“Do I?” She supposed that was better than looking weepy. Getting ready for him had given her a welcome task to focus on. Her forgotten stomach growled as she waved him inside. “Everything smells great.”
“It’s nothing fancy. Just some Chinese.”
She swept her gaze from his stubbled jaw to the dusty toes of his boots. As usual, her attention caught first on his gleaming eyebrow ring, then the bright blaze of his eyes. His brawny shoulders stretched his thin, yellow T-shirt until the fabric wept, and his muscular torso led to lean hips encased in low-slung jeans.
No doubt about it, the guy was sexy. Though she still wouldn’t have called him classically handsome, his looks were growing on her.
Like ivy. Or fungus.
“Chinese is my favorite, especially from that little place on Whelden.” She noticed the logo on the paper bags and grinned. “Excellent choice.”
“I love them too. Best egg rolls ever.” He dug in one of the bags and pulled out a sleeve bulging with egg roll contraband. “Three of these are mine, but you can have one.”
“Gee, thanks.” It made her laugh, but the brief kiss he smoothed over her temple quieted her once again. “I appreciate your interrupting your night for me, even if it wasn’t necessary.”
“Says who? I missed you.” Her heart turned over as if he’d flipped it in a skillet. “And I was having so much fun, I can’t even tell you. What a huge interruption.” Amusement filled his tone.
“Why? What were you doing?”
“Tearing off a roof, then when it started to pour, I attacked some drywall. Literally. Wasn’t too careful, hence the blisters and calluses.” He flipped over his hands and showed her his palms. “Well, more than usual.”
She glanced down at his wide, blunt-tipped fingers and remembered them on her body. Inside her body.
A tingling flush swept over her face. What was it about this guy? She couldn’t seem to suppress her hot flashes around him. Nor could she kill the sex thoughts. Really dirty and creative sex thoughts, preferably involving honey or whipped cream or maybe even duck sauce. Hey, necessity was the mother of invention and all that.
“Alexa?”
She did a mental double take at her veer into no-man’s land. “Yeah, sorry. I’m distracted tonight.”
He smiled crookedly. “I have a feeling you weren’t thinking about shingles.”
“No?” she asked, all innocence. “Why ever would you think that?”
He let his gaze drift down to her top. Specifically, what was under her top. “Your nipples are hard. Before you say it’s chilly, it’s not. It’s humid as hell.” He pulled out the neck of his T-shirt. “I’m sweltering.”
It took all her self-control not to suggest he strip. Quickly. In the interest of his health. “You’re right. Fair warning. I’m in a strange mood. As you heard on the phone.” She swallowed over the knot in her throat. “Sort of swinging from lust to despair and back again. I’m not really sure if I’m interested in talking or sex, or both.”
“But are you in the mood for Chinese?”
She returned his smile. If anything, it had widened. “Absolutely.”
“Then we’ll take the rest as it comes.” He rested his hands on her shoulders to guide her toward the kitchen. The lump in her throat eased even as other parts of her grew tighter and wetter. “Just don’t eat my egg rolls.” He brushed a kiss over the shell of her ear.
She gave into a delicious shiver. The Dillon special, she was discovering. “Your egg rolls are safe.” She threw him a teasing glance over her shoulder. “But as for the rest of you, no guarantees.”
