I narrowed my eyes. “Of course it is. Botany is crucial to the study of molecular genetics, environmental management, and the maintenance of biodiversity. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
“Your sister must be a genius too.”
“She is.” I adjusted my glasses, then snagged my jacket from the barstool. “Julia’s very career driven and says she’ll never procreate, which means that unless my friends do, I’ll never know anything about children.”
“You don’t think you’ll ever want kids of your own?” he asked in a casual tone, as if completely oblivious to my manic efforts to get the heck out of dodge.
“No. I’m gay and single and—”
He snorted. “I know for a fact that queer people have kids.”
“Yes, yes, of course. But I don’t think I will,” I replied, more flustered than ever.
“Right.” He stood slowly and met me in the middle of the room. “Well, think about it. Linc will be here this week. I have him for nine days before he’s gone again. Maybe we can work something out that’s part science, part holiday stuff.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Really.”
Hmm. Maybe.
Wait…no! Bad idea.
Oh, boy. Close proximity was messing with my senses. His cologne had a woodsy aroma that was both manly and dangerous and—nope. That was just me being ridiculous. Or maybe this was a normal reaction to someone decidedly imposing. He might have only been an inch or two taller than my six one, but he was somehow twice my size.
Standing near him highlighted our differences in ways that weren’t so obvious when we’d been sitting next to each other. I was thin and wiry with a shock of reddish-brown hair, blue eyes, and thick glasses. And he was sinfully handsome.
And straight.
My straight neighbor.
On that sober thought, I licked my lips nervously and started toward the entry.
“I’ll give this some thought, confer with my roommates, and get back to you ASAP.” I offered my hand politely as he opened the door. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McSwoony.”
“Rooney.”
“Excuse me?”
“My last name is Rooney. Sam Rooney.” His already big smile now took over his entire face.
But I was still a few beats behind. Rooney, McSwoo—
Holy shitake mushrooms.
The insta-flood of heat to my cheeks made me feel like I’d opened an oven. My face had to be as red as a radish. Great. Just great.
“Not Rooney McSwoony?”
“No. But it has a certain ring. I like it.”
“Oh. Ha-ha. Yes. Okay. Got it. Yes. Uh…” I shuffled to the porch, zipping my jacket as I walked backward. “I’ll be off now. Good evening, Mr. Rooney.”
“Call me Sam.”
I stared for a beat too long, then tilted my chin in acquiescence—and ran.
Okay, I didn’t run. I speed-walked. And I must have held my breath for the entire journey without realizing it, because when I finally locked my own door, I was panting as though I’d just run a marathon.
That hadn’t gone well. At all. I was not going to be the one to get back to our sexy neighbor. No chance. Someone else could do the honors. I wasn’t as immune to charming straight men as I’d thought. Even ones who didn’t care for the holidays.
This wasn’t like me. I prided myself on my razor-sharp focus and my relative immunity to unattainable suitors. I didn’t know what had just happened. I’d marched in with a simple agenda and raced out, tripping over my own two feet and clutching my cell like a—
I patted the pockets of my jacket and my jeans…slowly at first, then maniacally.
Oh. No. Son of a monkey!
My phone.
2
Sam
That was…different.
I watched Chet disappear into the shadows, thinking I should have offered to walk him home. I wasn’t sure why the thought crossed my mind when it was more than obvious that he couldn’t wait to get away from me. Hell, I’d thought we were doing okay until he’d brought up the holidays.
It hadn’t occurred to me to downplay my ambivalence. Who gave a fuck if I put up a tree or hung a wreath? Linc didn’t, and that was all that mattered. Besides, he had all the festive crap a kid could ever dream of at Jase’s house.
The way I saw it, I was giving my kid a break from Christmas carols, holiday specials, and the endless stream of “goodwill toward all” BS that seemed to suddenly get popular the day after Thanksgiving. What a crock of shit. Everyone was after number one. They just dressed it up pretty in December, but this give, give, give stuff was smoke and mirrors. Every sale still lined a company’s pocket, and every gift usually came with an outstretched hand. It was human nature. An eye for an eye and all that.
Was I cynical?
Yeah, okay, fine. I was a suspicious bastard. But that was what happened when you got screwed over one too many times. My mom always used to say that caution hardened the heart. So be it. The only person on the inside with me was Linc. I would do anything to make sure my son was happy and safe. Thus, the science-guy idea.