right?” he called through the door.
The door swung open suddenly to Liz standing there in a long Snoopy T-shirt that ended mid-thigh and nothing else. Her slender legs, bare and beautiful. He never thought a Snoopy T-shirt could look so sexy. He tore his gaze back up to her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair wasn’t perfect. It was mussed up on one side.
“Quiet down,” she said, “you’re going to disturb my neighbors.”
“Did I wake you?” he asked. It was only seven, but…bed head and Snoopy nightgown.
“What are you doing here?” She sounded worn out.
He shoved the bag and DVD into her hands. “I brought soup and a movie that always makes Gran laugh. I thought it might make you feel better.” He took a step back. “So…goodnight.”
“Wait!” She waved him in. “Have some soup with me.”
He stepped in slowly.
She looked at the movie. “Oh, I have this one. It’s my favorite.” She smiled. “It was so sweet of you to bring it, though. And the soup. Thank you.”
He followed her to the kitchen and read a strange list on her refrigerator: my bed, dancing in the living room, guilt-free wine drinking. Sounded like a hot date in reverse. A few minutes later, he sat at her small kitchen table, a bowl of soup in front of him. “So you like to dance in the living room?”
She shot out of her seat, giving him a glimpse of silk panties as she tore the list off the refrigerator and stuffed it in a drawer. She returned to her seat and carefully placed a napkin on her lap. He waited for her to make eye contact. There it is . Her blue eyes flashed anger, bringing a fierce energy to her. He knew he shouldn’t—he just couldn’t help it—he liked it when she was riled up. A lot. It sure beat the prim control she wore like a shield.
He suppressed a smile and ate his soup.
“Would you like a drink?” Liz asked after a moment.
“I’ll take some guilt-free wine,” he replied.
She stood, eyes ablaze, and said in an even tone, “You can leave now.”
His eyes widened. “Damn, Liz, I was just joking. I don’t even drink.”
She pointed to the door.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood. He’d been trying to make her feel better, take her mind off things, and he’d screwed it all up. “Liz, come on…”
She blinked rapidly. Not the tears . Anger he could handle. But a crying woman? The worst. He never knew what to say to them. He always made things worse. Shane was much better at this girl stuff—Mr. Sensitive. He exhaled sharply. He sucked at talking . Damn, damn, damn . I can’t leave her like this.
“C’mere,” he said and pulled her into his arms for a hug. She stood stiffly for a minute, arms at her side, then slowly put her arms around him and sighed. She fit perfectly in his arms. She looked up at him with those weepy eyes, and he just wanted to make it all better.
Cradling her face with one hand, he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were soft and yielding and made him want more. Her hands clutched at his shirt, which he took as a good sign, so he deepened the kiss, loving the taste of her, a little salty from the soup. She made little moaning sounds in the back of her throat that had him going rock hard. He stroked her back, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin cotton, urging her closer, needing to feel her curvy body pressed against his.
Suddenly, she shoved against his chest, and he released her.
She was breathing fast, eyes wide, staring at him. “You should go,” she said in a shaky voice.
He jammed a hand in his hair, feeling like a complete ass. He’d come to cheer her up, and instead, he’d taken advantage. He struggled for the right words and came up short.
He left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
~ ~ ~
“I just kissed Ryan O’Hare,” Liz confessed to Rachel with a hysterical laugh. She’d called her friend the moment the door shut behind Ryan.
“Omigod, hold on, I’m checking out a customer.” There was a rustle
The door swung open suddenly to Liz standing there in a long Snoopy T-shirt that ended mid-thigh and nothing else. Her slender legs, bare and beautiful. He never thought a Snoopy T-shirt could look so sexy. He tore his gaze back up to her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her hair wasn’t perfect. It was mussed up on one side.
“Quiet down,” she said, “you’re going to disturb my neighbors.”
“Did I wake you?” he asked. It was only seven, but…bed head and Snoopy nightgown.
“What are you doing here?” She sounded worn out.
He shoved the bag and DVD into her hands. “I brought soup and a movie that always makes Gran laugh. I thought it might make you feel better.” He took a step back. “So…goodnight.”
“Wait!” She waved him in. “Have some soup with me.”
He stepped in slowly.
She looked at the movie. “Oh, I have this one. It’s my favorite.” She smiled. “It was so sweet of you to bring it, though. And the soup. Thank you.”
He followed her to the kitchen and read a strange list on her refrigerator: my bed, dancing in the living room, guilt-free wine drinking. Sounded like a hot date in reverse. A few minutes later, he sat at her small kitchen table, a bowl of soup in front of him. “So you like to dance in the living room?”
She shot out of her seat, giving him a glimpse of silk panties as she tore the list off the refrigerator and stuffed it in a drawer. She returned to her seat and carefully placed a napkin on her lap. He waited for her to make eye contact. There it is . Her blue eyes flashed anger, bringing a fierce energy to her. He knew he shouldn’t—he just couldn’t help it—he liked it when she was riled up. A lot. It sure beat the prim control she wore like a shield.
He suppressed a smile and ate his soup.
“Would you like a drink?” Liz asked after a moment.
“I’ll take some guilt-free wine,” he replied.
She stood, eyes ablaze, and said in an even tone, “You can leave now.”
His eyes widened. “Damn, Liz, I was just joking. I don’t even drink.”
She pointed to the door.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood. He’d been trying to make her feel better, take her mind off things, and he’d screwed it all up. “Liz, come on…”
She blinked rapidly. Not the tears . Anger he could handle. But a crying woman? The worst. He never knew what to say to them. He always made things worse. Shane was much better at this girl stuff—Mr. Sensitive. He exhaled sharply. He sucked at talking . Damn, damn, damn . I can’t leave her like this.
“C’mere,” he said and pulled her into his arms for a hug. She stood stiffly for a minute, arms at her side, then slowly put her arms around him and sighed. She fit perfectly in his arms. She looked up at him with those weepy eyes, and he just wanted to make it all better.
Cradling her face with one hand, he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were soft and yielding and made him want more. Her hands clutched at his shirt, which he took as a good sign, so he deepened the kiss, loving the taste of her, a little salty from the soup. She made little moaning sounds in the back of her throat that had him going rock hard. He stroked her back, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin cotton, urging her closer, needing to feel her curvy body pressed against his.
Suddenly, she shoved against his chest, and he released her.
She was breathing fast, eyes wide, staring at him. “You should go,” she said in a shaky voice.
He jammed a hand in his hair, feeling like a complete ass. He’d come to cheer her up, and instead, he’d taken advantage. He struggled for the right words and came up short.
He left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
~ ~ ~
“I just kissed Ryan O’Hare,” Liz confessed to Rachel with a hysterical laugh. She’d called her friend the moment the door shut behind Ryan.
“Omigod, hold on, I’m checking out a customer.” There was a rustle
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