Love Kinection (3 page)

“We don’t have a date. You’re here to fix my phone. That’s all.” I pushed the door shut with one hand and reached up to tug my hair back with the other.

Aww, crap. I agreed to the food. It is a date. Stupid, stupid, stupid
.

My towel stretched as I moved, drawing the folds in the top apart, and it fell down. All the way down. To my feet. I screamed and yanked it back up. He stared long enough I’m sure he got the whole picture. He cleared his throat and turned around.

“Get. Out,” I said. “Please.” Completely mortified, I walked past him to go into my bedroom on stiff legs instead of bolting down the hall as fast as possible. The picture of self-control. That’s me. Was I doomed to spend every Valentine’s Day engaged in situations I wanted to die from?

A knock sounded followed by the low rumble of his voice. “Abby? I promise I didn’t see much. Please come out and have dinner with me.”

“Liar.” Oh God, I was crying again.

“Okay, but if I pretend I didn’t see anything, will you come out?”

“No.”

“I’ll show you mine.” A tease played along the edge of his voice, and I smiled.

“I’m sure you would, big guy. Look, I think I’m cursed. You should go.”

“Come out, Abby. Play video games with me.”

Video games? I didn’t have a clue what he meant. The last time I’d played a video game it involved tiny plumbers, turtles, mushrooms, and a princess trapped by an ugly dinosaur monster. The princess stayed with the monster.

“I don’t play video games. Just leave. This has been humiliating enough already.” I walked away from the door and went over to the dresser, putting fleece pajama pants and fluffy socks front and center in my head.

“Embarrassing, sure. But humiliating I can’t get behind. You have a great body. I think maybe you should nude model or something for art students. Or me.”

I yanked my favorite
Firefly
T-shirt over my head. A couple frustrated footsteps took me to the bedroom door, an angry retort on my lips ready to fire about the fat cells in residence on my ass. When I opened the, door he kissed me, and I swallowed the words on a startled gasp.

A surprised breath filled my lungs with the subtle scent of his cologne. The smell brought sympathy for the Black Widow. Cologne had been her kryptonite, too. He kissed me with slow gentle brushes of his lips until I relaxed and pressed against him from groin to chest. Then he leaned back and gave me another little kiss on the tip of my nose, smiling his shit-eating grin.

It’s so cute when he does that. Eyes all crinkled at the corners
.

The rational part of my brain sat up and took notice, then stomped the thought out of existence.

He was a beautiful man. He would destroy the little bit of me not obliterated a year ago, only to be beheaded this morning by a cold-hearted text message. Tom is a dangerous predator. I’m a gazelle with a broken leg.

“I knew if I made you mad, you’d open the door.” He walked back into the kitchen, retrieved Chinese takeout cartons, and carried them to the table.

“I thought I told you to leave.” I tried to summon some anger but failed. I liked to picture my anger as an angry Wampa. The Wampa grumbled at me from the mouth of the cave it lived in, turned around, and disappeared into darkness.

“But I didn’t fix your phone yet.” He glanced up at me from under his eyelashes briefly before pulling some cords and a black gaming console from the cardboard container he’d brought with him. “I’m going to hook this up while you get plates out. Unless you want me to eat directly from the box.”

The way he said “box” encouraged mental porn. Staring goggle-eyed at the wall next to his head didn’t help banish the thoughts. Tom’s thoughts were on the same route as mine because when I looked back at him the front of his jeans stretched tight across his groin.

This is why I no longer wear make-up except mascara and keep my hair in a ponytail or bun at work. Men like Tom who flirt without any effort. Big, warm, sexy men with dark hair and muscles who steal kisses whenever they feel like it. Who make me think naughty thoughts about their naked bodies and the feel of their hands on my skin.

But personal grooming is important to me, man in my life or not. So I keep everything waxed; I hate to shave. My toes and fingers polished. The knowledge Tom had seen how I maintained the danger zone was almost worse than him seeing me naked. Almost.

“What do I need to do to make you leave? Why do you want to be here with me anyway? I’m not exactly great company.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be alone. Play some Xbox with me. It’ll be fun.” Another piece of gaming equipment came out, this one on a pedestal. He set it on the floor. Charlie had wanted a wall-mounted flat screen when we’d lived together. Of all the stuff we’d owned as a couple, only the TV remained. I liked the big flat screen. I’d never wanted one but a single horror movie marathon hooked me. “We can play some Kinect games. You might like it.”

“Uh-huh. You just want to see my boobs bounce around.”

“Well, that’s always a bonus.” He plugged in wires and rooted around in the cabinet that held my satellite receiver. “I love it when you wear that red blazer.”

The comment put the jacket on my mental list for donations. I’d never wear it again. Paired with a camisole and a nice demi-cup bra, my blazer is a wardrobe staple for the office. No longer. The red blazer now equaled danger.

“You better be able to put that all back together right.” He wasn’t going to leave until he got what he wanted. I admitted defeat to myself for this round and went into the kitchen to get a couple of plates down and utensils. My thoughts wandered toward the last time I’d shared a meal with a man in my condo but I steered them in a different direction. “How long will it take to fix my phone?”

“Not long.”

Nice, non-committal answer. Maybe he’d been a lawyer in a past life.

“So why’d you bring the Xbox?”

“Opportunity.” He came into the kitchen and took the plates to the table. The statement earned him a frown but he grinned at me again. Part of my brain danced and spun in a circle. The part of my brain I labeled the “village idiot.” The “village idiot” started to sing in joy over the sexy company and did a cartwheel. Meanwhile, I stared at Tom’s back and entertained thoughts of kissing
him
on the nose to see what happened. Or the neck. Reaching his nose would be tough—he’s too damn tall. I’d have to sit in his lap or get a step stool to kiss him anywhere near his face.

Heh, there are always places south of the border to kiss. Don’t need to be tall to reach those
.

This from the part of my brain that thought doing ten Jell-O shots in one night was a good idea in college. My brain still hasn’t completely matured.

I’d left my wine next to the bathtub so I retrieved the bottle from the bathroom after running a brush through my hair to remove the worst of the snarls. A nice red. Room temperature is the perfect way to drink it. Tom shook his head no when I held it out to him. More for me.

“You might as well help yourself to whatever you want to drink from the fridge. Since you’re so determined to continue on with this farce of a date.” I pulled out a glass for him and left it on the counter.

Tom rolled his eyes at me and opened the refrigerator door. “Can’t you relax and have fun? I promise not to try anything.” He located the pitcher of water I kept on the bottom shelf and filled his cup. “Where’d you get this? I love this show.”

A painted zombie’s decomposed face took up most of the side he showed me.

“The web. And I can’t relax because you keep kissing me whenever you feel like it. You’ve already kissed me three times today.”
And you’ve seen me naked
. I tried not to let the thought show on my face, but my cheeks tingled.

“Keeping track?” He grinned, and I scowled back. A bigger smirk unfolded at my expression. “Fine, nothing else. I won’t try anything else.”

I went over to the table and opened a carton of rice, happy to see plain white grains instead of the fried variety.

“Look, I learned the hard way about charming, great-looking men. I’m not going to make the same mistake again.” A deep breath helped settle my nerves.

“I really want to know where you got this glass. I love
The Walking Dead
. I own all the graphic novels,” he remarked, a smooth sidestep around my comment.

“I can give you the web address of that site later if you want. It has some really cool stuff on it.” Pouring rice onto my plate gave me a direction to look in other than his face.

He sidled up next to me at the table and took the rice, passed a carton full of food to me.

“Cool. Thanks. Try this. It’s great.” Tom’s long fingers brushed mine as we exchanged boxes.

“What’s in it?” Grateful he hadn’t brought up the comment I’d made about his looks, I peered into the white box and took a sniff that burned my nostrils.

“Chicken. Shrimp. Veggies. Spicy stuff. Try it.” He took the container back and used a pair of chopsticks he dug out of the debris of cartons to dump some of it onto my plate.

A giggle slipped out and I took the utensils away from him. “Stop. Just because I’m overweight doesn’t mean I can eat all of that.” Then I used them to push some of the food onto his plate. “Besides, I want to see what’s in the other boxes.”

“You’re not overweight. Here, try this one.” The next held more chunks of meat with peanuts mixed in. “This one’s a little spicy, too, but it has sweetness to it.”

“All right. I’ll try it. But I get to keep the chopsticks.”

I went over to the couch and sat down with my wine and turned the TV on.
My Bloody Valentine
remained on the agenda, company or not. When I watched this movie alone I put in the 3D version and popped on the glasses on, too, but wasn’t sure I wanted him to know how much of a dork I really am. The crammed bookshelves against every available wall are evidence enough.

Tom settled down next to me and put his water next to his foot on the floor.

“What are we watching?”

“
My Bloody Valentine
.” My throat went dry when his lips closed around his chopsticks to take a bite of snow pea and carrot. A nice sip of wine solved the problem.

“Excellent choice, Abby. But don’t think you’re getting out of video games.”

“If you really want to see my boobs bounce that badly, I’ll go over there and jump up and down a few times.” I waved my hand in the general direction of the hallway. The food was really good, but spicy enough to set my tongue on fire. A switch to water after this glass of wine looked like a good idea unless I wanted to get sloshed.

“If you want to jump around, be my guest. I won’t look away. But I’m not leaving until our date is over.”

“It’s not a date.”

“You called what we’re doing a date a few minutes ago.”

“Did no—” Oh shit. He was right. I had. I snuck a glance at him, and he poked me with a chopstick.

“Watch the movie. Relax. Eat. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

The opening credits came onto the screen, and I shoved a big bite of shrimp into my mouth to prevent more word vomit.

Chapter Three

Watching the movie with Tom next to me on the couch was pleasant. Nice. Comfy. He hadn’t seen
My Bloody Valentine
and he seemed to enjoy the campy B-movie as much as I did. I liked hearing him laugh at the futile escape attempts of the cannon fodder and rooting for the villain. If I’m honest about it, the Jensen Ackles man candy comprised most of the draw for me. I’m on Team Dean. The ridiculous, gory death scenes have a certain
je ne sais quoi
of their own as well. Bad horror movies have carved out their own place in my heart.

I stuck the plates in the dishwasher and leftovers in the fridge. He’d offered to help but I didn’t want him to. There’s an intimacy to cleaning up after a meal with someone.

“So how is it you didn’t have a date tonight?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t want one.”

“Riiiight. A man like you didn’t want a date for the biggest date night of the year? You’re pretty much guaranteed to get laid.”

“Nope. I didn’t. There’s all these expectations attached to Valentine’s Day. It’s crap, really. Men aren’t good at that stuff. Besides, if I’d had a date, I wouldn’t have gotten to come over here and eat Chinese with you.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Although I don’t know why you’d want to. And you came over way early, too.” If he’d come over at the time we’d agreed on, we’d just be getting started on dinner.

“I was afraid you’d ditch me.”

“I don’t ditch people. I’m the ditchee.” I filled my glass with water again. “And I didn’t actually expect you to show up here.”

“Yeah, I sort of gathered that when you answered the door in a towel.”

“How many times are you going to bring it up?”

“I don’t know. It’s kind of all I can think about right now. Abby Fine in nothing but a towel isn’t something a guy is likely to forget.”

“Well, you did get to see the whole show. Surprised you didn’t run out the door in terror.”
My sister is prettier than me. Maybe that’s why Charlie wanted her instead
.

“That’s a dumb thing to say. I think you’re beautiful.” He leaned toward me and then rocked back on his heels. I stared at the floor and didn’t let anything argumentative come out of my mouth for once. “Come on. Let’s play a game.”

“What kind of game? I don’t really want to jump around right now. You’re going to kick my ass anyway.” He led me into the living room, my gaze pretty much glued to his ass.

“Some of these games you can play as a team.” He handed me a controller and turned on the video game console. “We’ll start you out easy.”

“Doesn’t this have to be plugged in?”

“Nope. It’s wireless.”

“Huh. Wow. My Nintendo was never this cool.”

“There might be hope for you yet.”

***

We played video games for hours. I finally understood how people got addicted to them. My favorite?
Plants Versus Zombies
. Basically you made barriers with all these plants to kill zombies. There were catapults and other weapons, but at its heart
Plants Versus Zombies
is a problem solving game. I like strategy and puzzle games. The other games where you shot monsters and bad guys didn’t work out too well. I continually shot Tom’s avatar instead of monsters or got scared by attacks on my avatar and covered my eyes. He made shooting monsters look easy when I didn’t distract him.