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CHAPTER FOUR
Meg had never enjoyed a date more. Sitting inside Joe Santori’s truck, eating gooey pizza and licking grease off her fingers, ranked right up there among her best evenings ever. They wiped their mouths with the backs of their hands. They sipped Chianti to keep warm. They speculated over whether it was worse to freeze, or to risk fumes by leaving the engine and heater running. Eventually, they compromised: heater on once in a while, windows partially open, just in case.
Above all, they laughed and talked. For hours, until the wine was gone and the pizza cold. He told her what it was like growing up in a brood. She told him about growing up with Georgie the Goat. They argued over the Bulls, agreed on movies, and left politics alone.
Though the truck was a small one, leaving them in proximity nearly as close as she’d been with Ted in his car, Meg never felt one instant of unease. In fact, if she were to be perfectly honest, she’d have to admit a slight disappointment that he never tried to touch her. But it didn’t matter. Whether they touched with their bodies or not, tonight they were touching with their laughter, with their conversation, with every breath shared in the close confines of the truck. It was incredibly intimate. But it wasn’t quite enough.
Finally, needing reassurance that she wasn’t the only one feeling affected by their closeness, she leaned over and touched Joe’s cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered as she ran her index finger along his jawline. She tested the texture of his skin, roughened during the hours since his morning shave. Then she lifted her thumb to his mouth, wondering if the wine had given her courage or just made her foolish. “Tonight has been wonderful, Joe.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if inhaling the scent of the perfume she wore. Then he caught her hand in his, pressing hers tighter against his cheek. He turned slightly, kissing the fleshy part of her palm. When his tongue tasted the pulse point in her wrist, she sighed. He feels it, too.
“I somehow suspect I might end up being thankful to Georgie for being such a creep,” she whispered.
“Me, too,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I didn’t know you really existed twelve hours ago.” He didn’t let go of her hand, still gently kissing her, driving her mad with the tiny flicks of his tongue against her skin.
Finally, he entwined his fingers with hers and lowered their clenched hands to the seat between them. “I think I should probably get you home. It’s pretty late.”
Home. Yes. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was after midnight. Hopefully, the fates would be kind and her neighbors asleep. If they weren’t...well, after hours sitting here in the dark, admiring his profile, dying to taste his lips, aching to be held by him, to feel that hard, masculine body beneath his clothes, she wasn’t much sure she’d care.
Tonight, she didn’t much feel like the good little second-grade teacher. She felt very much like a grown woman with needs she’d buried for far too long.
When she told him her address, he glanced at her in surprise. “You said you live near your parents, right? Then we grew up a few miles apart. Ten blocks closer and we might have gone to the same school, though we wouldn’t have been in the same class.”
“So, I might have gone to school with one of your brothers?”
He nodded.
She raised a brow. “Are they as cute as you?”
He shot her a look out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t. I’d hate to have had to steal you away from one of my little brothers.”
“Confident, huh?”
“Only when it’s important.”
Like this? Like her? She didn’t ask.
When they arrived at her building, she asked him to park a few spaces down from the entrance. Some of her neighbors were light sleepers. He did so, giving her a quizzical look, probably seeing the nervous way she chewed on her lip.
Meg sat in the passenger seat while he got out and came around to open her door. He walked quickly, his breath creating little clouds of condensation in the cold night air. Watching his every move, she saw him tuck one hand into the pocket of his soft leather jacket.
I’ll warm you up.
Meg couldn’t believe she was about to do what she thought she was about to do. Invite a man into her apartment. Kiss him because if she didn’t, she’d never be able to sleep tonight, wondering what his mouth tasted like. And if it tasted as good as she suspected it would, she had a feeling she’d want more than one kiss. One of the books she sometimes read to her students flashed into her mind. If you give a mouse a cookie...
“She’s going to want a glass of milk,” she whispered.
Joe, who had just opened the door, smiled as he helped her out. “Pizza, wine and milk. Interesting flavor combination. Maybe I should ask right now if you can cook.”
She shook her head. “Not very well. Does it matter?”
“Not a bit.”
When they reached her front door, Meg fumbled with the keys. Dropping them, she winced at the clinking sound of them hitting the hardwood floor in the hall. She hoped Mrs. Mahoney wasn’t awake, soaking her bunions or reading another of her never-ending tabloid newspapers.
Bending, she reached for the key ring, realizing when she had it between her fingers that the position was a very incriminating one. If Mrs. Mahoney opened her door right now, she’d see Meg, eye level with the impressively filled crotch of a pair of faded men’s Levi’s. She gulped, unable to look away from the lean hips, the long legs, the boot-covered feet.
Good Lord, was she really about to make a serious pass at this amazing man? Was she really going to find herself in his arms soon? Five minutes. Maybe less. Just get the stupid keys in the door, Meg.
