All week. She avoids meall week.
By Friday, I’ve had enough. After I get the kids to bed, I knock on her bedroom door.
“Come in.”
She’s sprawled across the bed with her arm over her face. Her hair is wet and she’s wearing those tiny sleep shorts and another tank top. She does one of those cat-like stretches, and I ignore the throb in my groin when the fabric of her shirt pulls up to display the taut skin on her smooth stomach.
You’re not here to ogle her, douchebag.I make a point to focus on her face.
“Hey. Wanted to thank you for dinner. Best brisket I’ve had in ages, but don’t tell my mom your food is better than hers.”
Tori sits up slowly and gives me a hesitant smile. “No prob.”
Those bright eyes study me. At least she’s not looking away.
Say something.
“It’s Friday night. No big plans?”
She hums. “I’m not really in the mood to beg any of my friends to drive this far to pick me up for a night of cheap beer and loud music.”
“You can borrow my truck anytime.”
A shadow passes over her, but in a flash, it’s gone. “I’d feel weird asking.”
“I don’t mind.”
Her slender shoulders shrug. “Still.”
Leaning against her doorframe, I cross my arms. “You always this stubborn?”
That smile returns, and it hits me in the sternum. “Yeah. Get used to it.”
There it is.There’s the fire she hosed me down with the first time we met.
I chuckle and slip my hands into my pockets. “Since you’re too good to drive my truck and too cool to eat dinner with us, how about keeping me company while I watch the end of the Rangers game? You like baseball? I have two pints of Ben & Jerry’s, and I’m willing to share in exchange for conversation with someone who isn’t my sibling or child.”
Her eyes lower. “I shouldn’t, but thanks for the offer.”
Here we go again.“Can I ask you something? Did I offend you?” Those golden eyes, wide and surprised, meet mine. “Because you’ve been doing your damnedest to avoid me since lunch earlier this week.”
After a long pause, she sighs. “I’m doing you a favor.”
“How do you figure?”
She doesn’t answer right away, until I give her an exasperated look, and she sighs again. “I’m staying out of your way. This is your house, and I know you’re not used to having a stranger around.”
I frown. “You’re not a stranger. Well, not anymore. And I feel like a giant ass enjoying your cooking without you joining us. I mean, it’s fine if you’re sick of me and my kids and need some space—”
“I’m not sick of your kids. Not at all.”
It pains me to think of what she’s not saying. “Okay, so then… just sick of me?” I dig deep for the next words. “Do you still think I’m a dick? I know I’m not always the nicest guy or the most patient, but—”
“Shut up. I’m not sick of you either. And you’re not a dick, okay?” Rolling her eyes, she gets up in a huff and stomps over. Without shoes, she’s tiny, barely coming up to my shoulders. I’m thinking Tinkerbell’s gonna shove me out of her room and slam the door in my face when she grabs my arms and turns me. “I’ll watch anything with you but the Rangers, okay?”
I smile as she manhandles me out of her room. “How about the Cubs? They’re playing the Dodgers.” This close, I can smell the coconut fragrance of her shampoo.
“Fine.”
