Dex blinked at me. “All right, but it’s fucking weird.”
He wasn’t lying.
Chapter Twenty – Dex
I pulled into the parking lot, the smell of tacos emanating from the passenger seat. I have no idea how I got roped into doing the lunch trip. She said she would if I paid, but obviously, she changed her mind.
Which was exactly how I’d ended up getting lost on my way to the taco place.
Not that I was going to tell her that
Fuck knows I’d kept enough from her.
Like how badly I’d wanted to slam her against the door and fuck her to death after she’d challenged me yesterday. It’d taken everything I had not to give in and do it. Not do the thing I wanted that I knew she didn’t.
She was saying it because of me. I wasn’t blind and I wasn’t stupid.
Sure, I’d felt the way she’d responded when I kissed her, but fucking her was a whole other ball game.
I could forget kissing her.
Maybe.
I definitely would not forget fucking her.
And if I did it, I wanted it to be more than just an itch I needed to scratch. I wanted to fuck her because I needed to—something more than a meaningless act.
Not that anything with her could ever be classified as meaningless.
Motherfucker, I wouldn’t forget a damn thing about the woman who was slowly worming her way under my skin.
Slowly.
Who was I kidding?
She was six-inches deep.
I opened the garage door.
A scream sounded.
I shouted.
Jamie staggered backward, her hand on her chest, until she was back against my half-repaired Dodge.
“Fuck me dead, Dex! Would you knock next time?” she shouted, rubbing her head. “You scared the hell out of me and I banged my head on the hood of that goddamn car!”
I burst out laughing, hesitating for only a second. “You want a bell on my neck, darlin’? Should I announce myself?”
She paused, screwdriver in hand. “Yes, actually. A bell would work fine, thank you.”
“I have lunch.” I held up the bag of tacos.
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She walked into the staff room, and the sound of the tap running filled the air.
I joined her. “Well, we made a deal, and this is me trying to stick to it.”
“Food is the way to my heart,” she said, grabbing a towel to dry her hands. “And tacos are the fastest path.”
“As long as they’re a fast-track past your sarcasm, I’ll buy you tacos every day.”
She clutched her hand to her chest. “Excuse me. I need a moment to swoon.”
I laughed and laid them out on the table. “Swoon quickly, or they’ll get cold. They’re already halfway there.”
She moved quicker than I’d ever seen her. Throwing herself on the sofa next to me, she bounced and grabbed a wrapped taco.
I blinked at her. “This is scary.”
“What? Did my make-up run?”
“No. You willingly sitting next to me.” I paused. “And the fact you’re wearing the world’s largest hoodie.”
She looked down. “Oh. I’m preserving my dignity.”
“You’re preserving your dignity.” Why did I want to know more about that? And, more to the point, what was she preserving it from? “I’m not going to ask.”
I grabbed my own taco and unwrapped it before I did ask. I was curious. Was she not wearing anything under it? Was it like in those stupid movies where woman showed up in nothing but lingerie and a trench coat?
I glanced at her legs.
Nope. No sign of lingerie there.
Damn. There went those hopes.
She laughed and covered her mouth with her hand so she didn’t spit out her food. “Stop staring at my legs.”
“I can’t help it.”
She eyed me. “I couldn’t find any shorts this morning so I had to improvise.”
“Jesus, Jamie, if you tell me you’re not wearing anything under there…”
“Oh my God!” She laughed again. “I’m not naked underneath this sweater, Dex. Holy hell. I’m wearing a skirt instead of shorts and, well, the sweater is longer than the skirt.”
Slowly, I chewed what was in my mouth. “You got no pants at home?”
“None that make my legs look as good as shorts do.” She shrugged, grinned, and licked some taco sauce from the corner of her mouth.
“Yeah, ‘cause that’s how you decide what to wear for work. I ask myself every morning if my ass looks good in my jeans.”
“It doesn’t. Not in those.”
I itched the side of my nose. “Your honesty is cutting.”
“I’m just saying, I’ve seen your ass look better in worse pants.”
“All I’m hearing is that you’ve been looking at my ass.” I smirked.
“Look, I like a good ass as much as the next girl. Your ass is the best part about you.”
She was totally honest as she said it, too.
I shook my head and got up to get a bottle of water from the fridge. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What?” She looked at me, blue eyes wide and innocent. “What am I doing?”