“Are you kidding me?” A little smile slid across her perfectly plump lips.
“Sure. I can work a glue gun like a bad ass.”
She cocked her head. “A badass? Really?”
“Abso-freaking-lutely.”
Her brow popped. “You know, I was just about to find some breakfast. Are you hungry?”
“What’s on the menu? Groceries aren’t delivered until later so not much of a selection.”
“Well, I have a full day of failing bridesmaid duties to get to so how about something easy?”
“Okay by me.” I grinned from a seat at the table.
She walked over and pulled open the pantry door. “Yes, slim pickings over here.” She looked at me over her shoulder and almost caught me staring at her ass again. “The only decent option would be Lucky Charms and, uh, a beer?”
“I like the way you think, Fern Ethel.”
For the next twenty minutes, we ate our dry cereal and sipped Miller Lite while our eyes darted between her iPad screen and the floral backdrop we were trying to revive.
I snuck a peek, and he was so handsome it made me a little wiggly and giggly.
Not only because his dark brown hair made those magical green eyes pop, but the fact that he had a hockey scar under his chin and another at his hair line that screamed he was a sucker for the game I loved. Not to mention the way his jeans did him all sorts of favors. That didn’t hurt either. But it was the sexy grin that made me imagine being held up against a wall somewhere as his eyes flashed before he—stop it!
While I’d never met Gabe personally until today, his reputation was something I’d seen online along with the rest of the big old world. About two years ago, the media dubbed him as the hockey philandering playboy, Lucky Number Thirteen, after being spotted with a few actresses here and there. Then the paparazzi got a clear shot of him peeing drunk and shirtless outside of a Taco Bell, highlighting the good stuff. Maybe not his best day, but he was dubbed GOP (God of Pleasure) for better or worse. He’d had some great hockey seasons since, and the attention had shifted a little more toward that game.
I pointed to my bags on the counter. “To top it off, once I’m done with this thing, I have to use adhesive to glue glass candlesticks together to make freaking towers.”
“One item at a time.” He chuckled at my animated gestures that I clearly needed to get a grip on. “Let’s nail this stupid flowery drop and then hit the candle stick thingy, okay?” He scooped up some flowers from the kitchen floor and tucked one behind my ear. “Now that looks pretty.”
I grabbed one from the table and tucked it behind his ear while singing. “You think I’m pretty.”
“Yes, I do.”
I bit my lip and realized how dangerous he truly was as his brow popped up at the same time I felt a little tingle dance down my spine.
It took a full hour, but we got every last flower stuck onto the two foam boards, and guess what? It looked flipping fantastic. We stepped back and admired our work.
He nodded. “We are pretty good. I assume the boxes contain the candle sticks?” He took off his sweatshirt that left him wearing a red tee. As he pulled it over his head, the T-shirt slid up, and I got a quick peek at some amazing looking abs I’d like to check out closer. No, can’t check out the abs. He’s above our pay grade!
“You got it.” I grabbed the adhesive out of my True Value bag on the counter before flipping through my phone. “Okay, Tawnee sent me pictures of what the towers should look like.”
He stepped close and examined my phone screen while I side-eyed his bicep that I could imagine being all flexed as he held himself above me. It was at that time whatever cologne I’d been enjoying today tickled me again, and suddenly I wanted to tickle him. What in the hell was wrong with me?
“We’ve got some work to do.” He clapped his hands together, and I jumped. He started moving the glassware out of the boxes and onto the table. “Why don’t you lube it up, and I’ll do the rest.” He bit his lip to hold back a laugh and awaited my reaction.
“You’re disgusting.” I rolled my eyes as he gave me a smirk.
“You wish you thought I was disgusting.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out but a little squeak. It was true.
He grabbed a candlestick and held it out to me. “Lube it up, baby.”
I followed his direction, trying to push the goofy grin off my face but failed.
Chapter 2
