Wisdom to live by. I drove home, thinking that I’d throw a load of washing in, maybe find something in the fridge that I could use for girl dinner, when a familiar set of green eyes met mine. Tor was sitting on my steps, dressed in a nice t-shirt and jeans, his hair freshly washed. He got to his feet and then held out a gorgeous bouquet of bright orange lilies.
“Hey, Harper, these are for you.”
“They’re gorgeous.” He stepped aside, letting me through to my door. “Are they?—?”
“Tiger lilies?” He grinned as he scratched the back of his neck. “Yep.”
“So…” I busied myself opening up cupboards, looking for something I could use as a vase, because how the hell did you make small talk with a guy you’d fucked only nights before? My hands closed over the handle of a water jug and I pulled it out, filling it, then arranging the bouquet in the jug. “What?—?”
“Come out to dinner with me.” The offer burst out of him and pretty pink spots formed in his cheeks in response. A big hand rubbed at his chin and then he started again. “I’ve got a table booked at the Indian place we got the food from.”
“Uh… I was gonna stay home and watch TV until I passed out,” I replied with a sheepish smile. “Dinner two nights in a row is about all my social battery is up for.” I plucked at my work uniform. “I need to do some washing and?—”
“Washing?” He wrinkled his nose at that. “That’s way too boring for a beautiful woman like you.” I yelped as he surged forward, scooping me up into his arms. “You show me your machine and your dirty washing basket, and I’ll put a load on while you have a shower.”
“So you randomly offer to do women’s laundry, depending on how pretty you think they are?” I said, allowing my fingers to trail through the shaggy ends of his hair. He went very still for a second, then smiled at me.
“I offer to do this beautiful woman’s washing.” He dropped me on the bed. “And vacuuming and window cleaning and?—”
“OK, I get it. You’re a one man, on-call cleaning company,” I said. “But I can?—”
As I went to grab the laundry basket, he stepped in, hitching it up on one hip, then opening my cupboard.
“Have a shower, get dressed in… this!” He pulled out a light summery top before tossing it on the bed, then following it with some jean shorts. “Or this!” A summer dress landed on my head. “Or this!”
“Hey, you’re supposed to be helping me clean up, not make a mess.” I shoved the clothes onto the bed before getting to my feet. “Though there are more fun ways to get messy.”
I remembered how it felt when he pushed inside me, forcing me to feel every inch. My hands went to his t-shirt, trying to tug it off over his head, but he fended me off.
“We don’t have to go anywhere.” I stared into his eyes, noting I had his complete attention. “Pretty sure there’s still some leftovers in the fridge. We could sit down on the couch for some Netflix and chill…”
A hand clamped around mine and then pushed it away.
“You know I want to.” His tone had become all growly. I watched his head tilt down towards mine, our lips only inches apart. “I really, really want to.”
“So…”
I started to grin. Good food, a couple of orgasms, and I’d sleep so damn well tonight. It’d?—
“But we’re going out for something to eat,” he said.
“Are all shifters so bloody bossy?” I asked, throwing up my hands.
“And you can either have a shower and get dressed, or I’ll pick you up and sling you over my shoulder and carry you downstairs before putting you in the car.”
I took a step backwards. How did I know if he was serious or not? My skin was all gross from being around deep fryers all day, my clothes spotted with food stains. When I shook my head, he grinned. My teeth ground together before I pushed past him, making a beeline for the shower.
“Make sure to add some oxy-bleach!” I shouted over the sound of the water before jumping into the shower and scrubbing myself clean.
Tor was out of my bedroom by the time I was done, and by the sound of it, the washing machine was going. I looked at his selections, opting for the light top and jeans. Last night was about all the fancy dress wearing I had in me for the week, but when I walked out, he didn’t look disappointed. He turned around from where he was standing in my kitchen and stared openly, those kitty green eyes growing brighter by the second. He looked down, and briefly I saw that his fingers had become claws, before he stuck them behind his back.
“So, are you ready for the best food in town?” he asked, holding out his arm. His claws had receded back to fingers again.
“I had prime rib and lobster last night,” I said with a grin. “You’d have to do a lot to top that.”
“Challenge accepted.”
And with that, he escorted me outside and into his car.
