Basic Attraction (14 page)

Sheri was as nervous as she’d been on prom night when she had been waiting for her date, a friend of her brother’s who she strongly suspected had been paid by her father to take her. But at least on that night, her heart hadn’t been involved—just her pride.

She had the terrifying notion that her heart was severely affected now. She was falling in love with Luke. At least she thought she was. It would explain the pounding heart, clammy flesh, and urges to cook and clean for him. Nothing else had ever inspired her to want to do a man’s laundry, and if that wasn’t love, she didn’t know what was.

This was a problem, of course. Not wanting to do laundry. She had no intention of actually following through on that urge. Loving him was a problem. She took a deep breath and lit the cranberry-scented candles she had placed in the center of her table. It was a problem because she didn’t know how Luke felt. Especially after yesterday.

He had been weird at Rick and Angel’s. Undeniably weird. At first, she hadn’t thought he was embarrassed to have been caught by Angel, what with his kissing her in front of his sister, but then later on, he had been quiet and brooding. He’d spent the majority of his time in his chair sipping a beer with a black scowl on his face or playing with Kiri.

The five-year-old had gotten his smiles. Sheri had gotten searching stares and cryptic statements. They had talked about kudzu for crying out loud! No wonder she was twenty-eight and single. Vines weren’t sexy.

She vowed to be sexy tonight. That’s why she was wearing the sexiest thing she owned, which wasn’t saying much, but it was the best she could do on short notice. Her wardrobe was highly functional, not “fuck me” worthy. But she had dug out a long, floral, sleeveless dress and was wearing sandals in place of her usual gym shoes or hiking boots.

Peachy Cream was painted on her toenails. She had been forced to add nail polish remover to the gummed-up bottle of polish because it had been sitting in her medicine cabinet unused since her cousin’s wedding three years before. Again, evidence that she didn’t dress up much.

The doorbell rang. She fought down the urge to run to the bathroom and hang over the toilet. “Sheri, you’re an adult. This is no big deal.” Just the rest of her life. She pasted a frantic smile on her face and opened the door. “Hi.”

There was a long pause while he ran up and down the length of her with his eyes. His voice was low, questioning. “Hi.”

The dress seemed to surprise him. Which it should have, given that she was usually wearing large T-shirts and dirt-colored shorts. Also, he was in his usual jeans and rumpled T-shirt, making her overdressed in comparison.

He picked Greedy’s carrier up off the floor. “Can I bring him in? I didn’t want to leave him in the car.”

“Of course. Bring him in and let him out.”

Luke stepped inside, glancing up as he unlatched Greedy’s carrier. “What’s cooking? I’m starving.”

It was obvious that he wasn’t referring to dinner since his eyes were plastered on her chest. It was a good start. She felt herself flush a little. “Just a little something I whipped up.” Ugh. That sounded idiotic.

“You look like a teacher.” Standing up, he gave her a light kiss while Greedy suspiciously sniffed the floor.

Somehow that hadn’t sounded like a compliment. She glanced down at her floral ensemble in disgust. Luke probably dated women who wore leather and skintight jeans. Miniskirts and plunging cleavage. This wasn’t sexy. She had worn it to church.

Grinning slowly, he added, “I’m hot for teacher.”

Promising. Flustered, she said, “I made vegetable stir-fry with sticky rice. I hope you like it. I didn’t really have time to get to the store.”

He looked a little wary but he nodded. “I didn’t want you to go to any trouble or anything.”

“No trouble.” She breezed into her kitchen, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her wiping her palms on her dress.

Luke followed her. He leaned against the counter and watched her, not saying a word, while she filled two plates with vegetables and rice. It suddenly didn’t look very substantial for a man.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“No, I got it.” Then she babbled. She rambled on and on about the vegetables, the fresh market she’d bought them at, her herbs on the windowsill, and the possibility of her getting a pet.

He nodded. He grunted. He said yes and no.

She found herself growing more nervous. What was the matter with him? He was just staring at her. On her way to the table with the plates, she twisted her foot, unused to wearing sandals, and deposited a pile of vegetables and rice onto the table.

Gasping, she set the other plate down and surveyed the ruin. Soy sauce was dripping all over the tablecloth, and along with three scented candles, a snow pea was now floating in the water-filled bowl.

It was her worst clumsy nightmare. Tripping in front of the man she was trying to impress with her painted toenails and church dress. Then she did the unthinkable.

She started to cry.

Struggling to keep the sobs silent, she ended up jerking back and forth, the plate clanking onto the table as she bit her lip in misery. Tears ran down her face, made worse by the fact that she couldn’t begin to explain why she was even crying.

Other than the fact that she didn’t want him to go back to Chicago, but she knew she couldn’t say anything, because how pathetic would that be? Yet she’d gone and fallen for him, which was totally stupid and exactly what she’d promised herself she would not do.

Luke swore.

Helpless to stop, she tried to drag a breath in and managed to sob instead.

“Sheri, it’s just stir-fry. There’s more in the pan.”

Luke’s bewildered voice made her choke through her tears. Poor man. He had no idea what was the matter with her. How could he? She decided that she had to be herself, and she was nothing if not honest.

“It’s not the food, Luke. It’s us.” She let him take the other plate from her hand and set it on the table. She fished the snow pea out of her candle bowl, dropping it on the plate and drying her hand on her dress.

“Us?”

“Yes, us. I thought you were enjoying hanging out, and then yesterday you were just really reserved at Angel’s. Is there something wrong?”

He shook his head and took her hand, stroking it slowly. “No. I’m just having a hard time believing it.”

“What?” Probably that she was a sobbing mess in Peachy Cream and he’d been stupid enough to get involved with her.

“That I could feel this way about you after just four days.”

Better than what she’d imagined. Way better. Her heart leapt fearfully. “Feel what way?”

“Crazy about you.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers one by one.

Staring into his blue eyes, she wondered if this was really happening, because she was pretty sure he’d just said that he was crazy about her. Which was crazy.

“I want to keep seeing you, Sheri. You’re important to me.” He took a deep breath. “What would you think about me moving down here or at least going back and forth a bit?”

Okay, this was better. “You would do that? But how?”

“I don’t know. I could work it out. Jake and Eddie can keep the bar for me for a while until I decide what to do. But if I did, would I be able to see you when I’m here?”

He looked adorably vulnerable. He actually looked like he thought she might reject him. Silly man. She was hopelessly head over heels for him.

“Yes. Yes, I want to see you whenever you’re in town.” She leaned over and kissed him eagerly, her insecurity receding. She was starting to learn that when Luke was thinking hard, he brooded. It meant nothing other than she needed to wait for him to puzzle his thoughts out.

He smiled and pulled back. “Whew.” He pretended to wipe his forehead. “All right then. We’d better eat before the food gets cold. Plenty of time for other things.”

“Other things?” Let him spell it out.

He shot her a smoldering look. “Yes, other things. Things that involve me licking you between your thighs, dragging my tongue over your clit until you scream. Would you like that?”

Hell to the yes. Not caring the least about dinner, she still turned back to the table, prepared to clean up and scarf her food down in three seconds so she could drag him off to her bedroom. She had scented her sheets with lavender spray and was looking forward to showing him the bra and panties he’d missed the night before. In basic black this time.

All thoughts of stripping his clothes off fled when she realized that Greedy was on the table eating a water chestnut. “Greedy! You’ll eat anything, won’t you?”

She didn’t really mind though. She grabbed him and set him down on the floor. Soon, he would be almost her cat, too. It was a satisfying image, Luke staying with her for weeks at a time. She pictured his jeans hung up in her closet, his T-shirts in her dresser drawer. She could possibly even find a way to throw them out one by one without his noticing.

Not that she really would. The T-shirts were part of his unique charm.

“When do you think you can come back? You can leave Greedy with me, you know, and of course stay with me.”

The litter box could go under the sink. She hoped that Greedy wouldn’t mess with her plants, but if he did, they would work it out. She felt flushed with excitement. She was ready to take this step.

“Well, uh,”—Luke sat down at the table and studied his food—“I thought I would see if I can stay with Rick and Angel for a while until I work things out.”

Things? Her heart plummeted, and she turned quickly to the sink so he wouldn’t see her embarrassment. She had obviously jumped to a conclusion that Luke hadn’t. He was just talking about dating, not living together. Not even staying together for a week here and there when he was in town.

Vigorously scraping the cat-licked food into the sink, she blinked hard. “Oh.”

“You know, see how it goes. I mean, someday, if I decide to move down and we’re together, I think we’d get our own place. Start over together, you know?”

Luke looked around her scented and feminine kitchen. Her living room was the same. It looked like Laura Ashley had exploded in it. He could deal with a candle here and there, but this was a damn waxworks. The floral patterns on the couch and chairs alone were enough to give him hives.

“I don’t think my stuff would fit in here. Maybe a two-bedroom apartment?” This was a point he hadn’t exactly considered. Could black leather furniture blend with red floral? It was a fitting description of the two of them. Could their lives blend together at some point?

And why the hell was he even thinking about that? Or saying it out loud? He didn’t nest with women. He just didn’t. A commitment was a huge and serious thing, and he was not going to be like his father and run through women every other minute. His father had kept most of his cars longer than he had his wives and he’d disrupted a whole lot of lives every time he’d done it. Luke didn’t want to skip any steps, no matter what his dumbass heart was saying.

She looked at him doubtfully. “How much stuff do you have? Are you bringing stuff with you now? And I’ve been in this apartment for three years. I like it. The manager responds quickly to service calls.”

He felt a strange, nagging worry rising in him. There was more to this than he had realized. Or wanted to think about. “I have two couches, a bed, a really big stereo, tables, lamps, my aquarium—the usual.”

“Aquarium?” Her mouth dropped, and she came back to the table without any food for herself.

“Aren’t you eating?” he asked nervously.

“What’s in your aquarium?”

He held up his fork. “It’s really good.” When she shook her head no, he added in a mumble, “My piranha.”

“Piranha? Oh.” Her face turned white.

This wasn’t exactly going well. He decided to steer the conversation away from fish with teeth. “So I can probably sell the bar in Chicago to my brothers or to whoever and buy something down here. It’ll take a few months though to research locations and do all the bank paperwork. But maybe I shouldn’t sell just yet.” Now that he was starting to panic with each word he and she spoke.

Five minutes ago, all he’d been thinking was that he didn’t want to leave Sheri behind in Tennessee. Now he was feeling like he was getting in over his head with someone he didn’t really know all that well.

“You’re going to open another bar?” She stared at him in horror.

He chewed his broccoli. “Yeah. That’s what I do. I run a bar. What else would I do here?”

“Can’t you open a T-shirt shop or something?”

She could not be serious. He had always known that she didn’t exactly embrace his career choice, but why did it matter to her? “A T-shirt shop? Why the hell should I? I own a bar, Sheri. A
bar
. You can’t change that.”

She bristled, which made him snort. He was the one being insulted here.

She said, “I just don’t see why you can’t try something else that doesn’t involve poisoning people’s bloodstreams with alcohol.”

His fork dropped out of his hand. “You can’t make me over into a park ranger or something else that better fits your image of the perfect man.”

“The perfect man?” She shoved back her chair, stood up, and shot him a look of pure disgust. “If I was looking for the perfect man, I would not have chosen one who wears “Suck My Dick” on his shirts!”

Oh, no she didn’t. “So I suppose when I go meet your parents you’re going to pick my clothes out for me. How about a nice pair of tan pants and a white button-up shirt?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“It doesn’t sound good to me.” He stood up and stared across the table at her, his anger suddenly deflating into an uncomfortable anxiety.

So this was the way she truly felt. She cared about him in spite of all the things she didn’t like about him. It wasn’t a good feeling.

“Look, Sheri. This is who I am.” He held his arms out and gestured to himself. “The scruffy hair, the T-shirts, the tattoos, and the jeans. I’m not going to change. For you or anyone else.”

He took in her chestnut hair, her angry green eyes, and steeled himself for what he had to do. He had to make this clear now before they took one step farther.