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“Isla wanted me to check her stitches. I’ll wait.” His eyes crinkled as he looked at her.
“Okay. Give us ten. If the floor is soaked, god only knows what she looks like. I swear it was easier when I used to get in the bath with her.” The truth was, she needed a moment away from him. He had this presence that made it impossible to think straight when he was around. Like he had a direct route to her hormones that made them dance with glee.
He ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip, giving her a nod. “No problem.”
He should never have asked her. It was a stupid idea. Sure, it might be able to solve both their problems at once, but it could cause a lot of new ones, too.
Like the way he couldn’t stop looking at her when she was wearing those damn yoga pants. And how a vision of her naked, stepping into the bath, took his breath away.
He leaned on his balcony, overlooking the ocean, letting the sound of the waves crashing against the beach chase away the thoughts. He’d been out to dinner with James, and though the good company and glass of wine he’d had were enough to mellow him, his mind was still on thoughts of Meghan and their conversation earlier.
He was attracted to her. And from the way her eyes heated when she looked at him, he thought there may be a little mutuality to it. And that, in a nutshell was the problem. His sex life had always been uneven. It ebbed and flowed depending on his schedule and his availability, and whether the women he dated had gotten fed up with him yet. The fact was, he was a terrible partner. He missed birthdays because of twenty-four hour shifts, called dates off at short notice when major incidents came in, and when he was available, he was usually exhausted.
Casual dating smoothed over some of those problems. But then he’d met Carlyn at a bar and been burned. A mixture of guilt and frustration rushed through him. All this time later and he still couldn’t shake her off.
And that brought him full circle back to Meghan. Maybe he wouldn’t be so attracted to her if he’d been able to continue his casual way of life. He’d studied human physiology, he knew how desire worked. At its very base, it was a way for the species to continue, everything on top of that was sprinkles.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket to message her, thankful he finally had her number. A few quick words to tell her to ignore him, that he couldn’t ask her to be his pretend date, then everything could go back to how it was.
But when he glanced at the screen he could see she’d beaten him to it. He had his phone on silent, but her message was only a few minutes old.
Meghan: Can I ask you a question?
Rich: Of course. Shoot.
He wondered if it was about Isla. Her foot looked good when he’d checked it for her earlier. It never ceased to amaze him how quickly kids healed.
Meghan: This woman who’s stalking you. Is she dangerous?
Rich: No. She’s harmless but persistent. She’s an upstanding member of the community. Runs The Sunshine Gallery in town.
Meghan: I’ve seen it. There are some really beautiful paintings in there. Way out of my budget, though. So there’d be no danger to me or Isla if she got upset?
Rich: No. I’m certain she’d back off if she thought I was taken. It’s not the first time somebody has been over persistent with me. It kind of comes with the territory. But please don’t think you have to help. I’m a grown man, I can deal with her. I wouldn’t want you to worry about Isla’s safety.
He wondered where she was in her apartment? Maybe sitting in the living room? He could almost feel the pull of her through the walls of his apartment. She had this way of looking at him that made him feel about ten feet tall. Soft eyes, parted lips, little breaths that made her chest rise and fall.
And it made him want to see what was under her tank.
Meghan: I trust you. And I want to help. I just don’t know if it would work.
It was weird how much he wanted her to say yes. He told himself it was because it would make his life easier, and get Carlyn off his back. Not because it would give him an excuse to be close to Meghan. To look in those pretty eyes, to touch her with good reason.
Rich: I don’t know either. And I know Isla’s your priority.
Meghan: Let me think about it tonight. You’re not working tomorrow, right?
Rich: No. I have a few days off.
Meghan: Okay. I’ll speak to you tomorrow. I’m heading to bed now.
Rich: Sleep tight.
He was all too aware that her bedroom backed onto his. Now he couldn’t think about anything else. He knew from bumping into her in the hallway once that she wore shorts and a tank with little else in bed. The thought sent a surge of desire through him. Were her thighs soft? Smooth? Would she make those little gasping breaths if he touched her?
His body pulsed at the image of her in his brain. Laying on his bed, her red hair spilled out over his pillows, her wide eyes staring up at him in that innocently sexy way.
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Rich shook his head at himself. Damn, it had been way too long since he’d lost himself in a woman. Right now he needed to take matters into his own hands.
