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“Pass me the instructions.”
“Don’t you have stuff you need to be doing?”
“Yes, but I’ve already wasted half the day reading that book you gave me. What’s another hour?” he says, stepping forward and picking the instructions up off the floor before I can stop him.
“Thank you. Do you want a drink?”
“Sure. What do you have?”
I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator. “Water, soda, or wine.”
“Are you having wine?”
I look over my shoulder at him. “Sure. It’s Friday, right? Is red okay?”
He nods, and I pour us both a glass from the already open bottle I have. “Do you have a screwdriver set?” he asks, setting the pieces of wood into piles and sitting down next to them.
I smile triumphantly. “Yes! I ordered some. They came yesterday. I haven’t opened them yet. Hang on, I’ll grab the box.”
I place both drinks on the breakfast bar and disappear into my bedroom, coming back with two boxes. I’d ordered a ton of things from Amazon earlier in the week and I have no idea which box the screwdrivers are in. I sit on the floor next to him and tear into the first box. I reach inside and blindly pull out what I think is the screwdriver set. My face floods with heat when I look down at the large, hot-pink rabbit vibrator I completely forgot I’d ordered in my hand.
“If that’s the screwdriver set, they sent the wrong thing,” Seb says with a chuckle. I groan internally, wanting the ground to open up and swallow me. “Is that what I think it is?”
Despite the fact that the hottest guy on the planet is asking me if I’ve bought myself a sex toy, I decide to own it. I’m a grown woman with needs and I’ve got nothing to be ashamed about, even if my face feels like it’s on fire.
“Yes. It’s a vibrator. You’ve seen what I do for a living. Sometimes I need some… relief.”
He raises his eyebrows, his eyes going from the vibrator to me and back again. I’d love to know what he’s thinking, and if I’d had more wine, I’d be tempted to ask, but I’m pretty sure we’ve shared enough today.
I shove the vibrator back in its packaging and grab the unopened box, going through in my head what I ordered in the hope that whatever’s inside this box isn’t quite as embarrassing. I’m cautious once the box is open, and I peek inside, breathing a sigh of relief when it’s the screwdriver set. Why couldn’t I have opened this box first?
“Here they are,” I say, pulling the set out and passing it to him.
He takes it from me, his gaze fixed on mine. “That’s a shame. I was looking forward to seeing what other naughty things you might have bought.”
He winks at me, and heat pools in my stomach. Is he flirting with me, or am I imagining it? It’s been so long it’s hard to know.
“You sure like pink,” he says with a chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pink screwdriver set.”
“I have a few pinkthings,” I tell him, trying to flirt back.
His eyes flash with what I think is heat, and he swallows thickly. “I’m going to need my drink,” he says, his voice low.
“Sure thing.”
I stand up and turn my back on him as I make for the breakfast bar. I drag in a deep breath, and what feels like a million butterflies take flight in my stomach. Despite being confident and outgoing, all that confidence disappears when I like a guy, and I do like him. I didn’t expect to, even though I’d noticed how hot he was when I first visited Hope Creek. Now that I’m beginning to get to know him, I’m seeing there’s more to him than just what he looks like, and I find myself wanting to know everything.
It takes about an hour for Seb to put the desk together, and we spend that time talking, laughing, and drinking almost a whole bottle of wine. He’s so easy to talk to and he tells me about his family and the things he used to get up to with Wyatt as a child. There’s no more flirting, and I put it down to whipping out a sex toy in front of him. I guess any guy would have the same reaction.
“There, done,” he says, standing up and picking the desk up off its side and righting it. “Where do you want it?”
I stand too and look around the apartment for the perfect place, finally deciding on under the window. “How about there?” I tell him, pointing to the spot.
He nods and maneuvers the desk in place before standing back to admire his work.
“Looks good. I can imagine you sitting there all day editing your naughty books.”
I laugh. “Says you who’s now reading one of thosenaughty books.”
