“That’s a cute nickname.” Holy shit. Your father. What would he think of this? He tacked that onto the list of reasons he had to put an end to this.
“I love nicknames. You didn’t have one growing up, did you?”
“You mean besides being half of the Bee Gees? Nope, can’t say that I did. But the guys at Darkbird called me Big Guns, or Big G.”
“Oh, I like that! Can I call you Big G?”
Christ…She had no idea how it sounded coming out of her sexy mouth. He wanted to say she could call him whatever the hell she wanted, but he had a feeling that would get him into trouble.
“Sorry, but no. When you say it, it just sounds dirty.”
“Oh, geez. Forget that.” She put her hand on her hip, her beautiful eyes trailing over him. “I’m going to give you a new nickname.”
“I don’t need a nickname, Jules.”
“Everyone needs a nickname.” She opened her bag and said, “I remembered that you didn’t have a table, and I thought we could have a picnic and eat on the floor, but then I thought that might be difficult for you with your prosthesis. Is it hard to sit on the floor?”
He was surprised, and strangely pleased, that she’d thought of that. “Getting up and down isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world. But I can handle it if you want to sit on the floor.”
“Why would I want you to be uncomfortable? We can sit on the couch and eat on the end table. Can you help me move it?” She put her hands on one side of the heavy wooden table, as if she was going to help carry it.
She was too damn cute.
“I’ve got it.” He moved the table in front of the couch.
She whipped a cream-colored tablecloth with colorful autumn leaves on it from her bag and draped it over the table. “There. Just a few more things.” She proceeded to pull out three votive candles, which she placed in the center of the table, and a small cactus in a canvas tote that had SHARE SMILES, INSPIRE LAUGHTER, NURTURE LOVE printed on the side. She set it on the windowsill, transforming his barren living room into a cozy eating place for two.
Only you…
Even though this wasn’t a real date, he should have thought to spruce the place up for her. Aw hell. Did she think it was a date? “That looks great, Jules. Thanks for thinking of it.”
“Sure, but I forgot a lighter. Do you have one?”
“Yeah.” He went to get a lighter from a kitchen drawer.
“And I got a few presents for Crash. Where is he? Crash!” she called out.
The cat came sprinting out of the bedroom and ran headfirst into the couch.
“Oh no!” Jules snatched him up, cradling him. “Why do you do that? And what is this?” She touched the bow hanging out of Crash’s mouth. “Is this from my costume? I’ve been looking all over for it.”
“I don’t think you want to put that back on your costume. He hasn’t put it down since he found it. He sleeps with the damn thing under his paw like a prize.”
She giggled. “He loves me.” She nuzzled against his head. “I love you, too, Crash, and I brought you presents.” She went to the bag and withdrew a stuffed ball with feathers on it. “Let’s see if you like it.”
She set the ball on the floor with Crash, and he looked up at her. She nudged the ball, rolling it across the floor, but Crash just stared up at her with the bow hanging from his mouth.
“No? Maybe you’ll like one of these better.” She took out a little stuffed mouse and tossed it on the floor, a plastic ball with a bell inside it followed, and finally she withdrew a thin rope with feathers on one end. “We’ll just tie this to the doorknob on the front door.” She went and tied it and wiggled the feathers.
Crash batted at the feathers hanging from the doorknob, then ran to the ball, batting it around the floor, causing the bell to jingle, and then he went after the stuffed mouse.
“Jules, you didn’t have to get him so much. He’s not staying.”
“Well, he’s here now,” she said sassily. “And I wasn’t sure what he’d like.”
He caught himself smiling again. “Looks like you chose well, Pix. But that noisy ball might have to go.”
As he lit the candles, she eyed the pizza box on the counter and grabbed two plates from the shelf above it. “You got pizza. Yum.”
“I picked up some other food, too, in case you didn’t feel like eating pizza,” he said, putting out silverware and napkins.
“That was nice of you, but I’d eat whatever you got.” She held up the mismatched plates, one yellow, the other white with blue flowers. “These are cute.” She set them on the table.
“Sorry they don’t match. Those are Roddy’s, and since I don’t know if I’m staying, I haven’t bought more.”
“I really do like them.”
“I have a feeling you like everything.”
“Most everything, but not sauerkraut.” She wrinkled her nose.
The things she came up with…“I’ll remember that.” He felt himself smiling again.
“That table is too small for the pizza box, but we can put it on the couch beside us. You know what you need? A little island and a few cute stools.”
“Like I said, I’m not sure I’m staying. But I’ve got something we can use. I’ll be right back.” He went into the bedroom and brought out the wooden chair from beside his bed. “We can put the pizza on this.” He set it next to the table.
“Good idea. Why do you have a wooden chair in your bedroom? I could see a comfy reading chair, but a wooden chair?”
He put the pizza box on the chair and grabbed the other bags of food from the counter. “Do you always say what’s on your mind?”
“Usually.”
“What if my answer is kinky? Like, because I enjoy tying women up?” Where the hell did that come from? She was the last person with whom he should be testing boundaries.
Her eyes widened and her cheeks burned red. “Do you?”
That flash of innocence stoked the fire that had been simmering since Halloween. He arched a brow, and her cheeks flamed. He laughed. “Don’t worry, Pix. I’m not into BDSM, and I’ve never tied a woman up on that chair.” He couldn’t resist lowering his voice and saying, “But a silk tie around the wrists can be fun.”
Her jaw gaped, and then she snapped her mouth shut, and they both laughed.
“The truth is, I use the chair when I put on or take off my prosthesis.” Surprised he’d told her the truth, and even more surprised that she had absolutely no reaction beyond “Oh. That makes sense,” he began setting out the burgers, fruit salad, and brownies he’d bought.
She wiggled her shoulders with delight. “If you keep feeding me like this, I might never leave.”
That sounded way too good to him. He wrestled with that as he went to the fridge to get their drinks. “I remembered that when we were younger, you liked strawberry lemonade from the Sweet Spot down by the beach. I don’t know if you still do, but I picked some up.”
“That’s my absolute favorite drink. I can’t believe you remembered.”
“Neither could I, to be honest.” He set the to-go cups on the table. “When I went to get the burgers, I passed the Sweet Spot and it came back to me.”