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He didn’t know what his growly response did to everyone else, but he liked the way it made Becca’s cheeks flush and her eyes spark.
“No. I don’t care what you think of it.”
“But you want to know if you can get a guy who has a lot of women vying for his attention goin’, right?” Beau asked. He leaned back and laced his fingers together on his stomach. Right above his belt buckle. Which was right above his fly.
Her eyes, predictably, followed.
“We don’t do anything for each other, but if your costume can getmegoin’, then it’ll work on Lance, right?”
He was lying. Completely. Becca did something for him. Suddenly.
Fucking fuck.
Becca swallowed and pulled her eyes back to his face. “Uh. I guess.”
He smirked. She didn’t even correct his using the wrong name for this guy she was so enamored with.
“So show me.”
"She’s got three costumes,” Savannah jumped in. “A devil, a Greek goddess, and a woodworker.”
“Woodworker?” he repeated, sitting up a little straighter.
“It’s aconstructionworker,” Becca said. “It’s got a hard hat.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“It’s got a sexy little tool belt,” Savannah said. “But you can’t pick that one just because of that,” she told Beau with a grin. “We can't decide which one is best. You need to see her in each one of them and help us decide which she should wear to show Luke she can be more than his study partner."
Beau draped an arm over the back of his chair, determined to look completely nonchalant about this. The one time Becca had come over to his house when he’d been working on a project and offered to help him sand some edges, she’d almost taken her skin off. She shouldnotbe a construction worker.
But could he give her an opinion on which costume would catch the eye of a straight, red-blooded man? Absolutely. Easiest favor she'd never asked. "Start with the devil. That seems most appropriate."
Becca narrowed her eyes. Then she pushed back from the table and headed upstairs for her bedroom.
"Do you want to help us carve jack-o'-lanterns?" Toby asked.
Stabbing a knife into something? Sounded great. But he shouldn't feel that way. He should not be worked up, worried, or wondering about Becca and this guy.
"Nah. I'm good. How about another latte?" See? He was totally cool. Just a guy having a pumpkin spice latte …and he reached for a pumpkin muffin now…with some new friends.
Toby, who was a part-time barista at the coffee shop on campus, got up with a smile and fixed him another mug. He set it down and Beau took one sip before Becca walked into the room.
Dressed as a sexy as fuck, if-that's-hell-I-can't-wait-to-go she-devil.
The dress dipped low in the front, clung…everywhere, barely covered her butt, included a pointed-at-the-end tail, horns, black fishnet stockings, and thigh-high red leather boots.
She stopped right in front of his chair, propped a hand on her hip, which pulled the skirt up just a bit more to show a flash of matching red panties, and said, “Well?”
That was when he ended up with pumpkin spice latte in his lap.
He shot back from the table, exclaiming, ironically, “Jesus Christ!”.
Which caused him to start choking on the bite of pumpkin muffin in his mouth.
After he’d gotten the muffin crumbs out of his lungs and Toby and the fistful of napkins away from his crotch, Beau braced his hands on the back of his chair and met Becca’s eyes. She still stood there, hand on her hip, watching him.
"No," Beau said simply. "Definitely not."
She glared at him. "Why not?"
