Drawn Deep (Afternoon Delight 2)

His incessantly patient tone grated on her frayed nerves. “Fourteen years difference is more than half of your life. What could you possibly want from me?”

“Sex,” he said simply, causing her to spit out her coffee on the dash.

All. Over. The. Dash.

She tugged a tissue out of her purse and tried, rather ineffectually in light of her shaking hands, to pat the dashboard dry. “What did you say?”

“Need a napkin?”

“I’m good.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

She dropped the mug in the cup holder and wagged a finger in his face. “No. Do not do that. Do not make sexual entendres. It isn’t appropriate. My last name is on your checks. Checks you probably don’t need because I’m half convinced you’re secretly a drug dealer for the mob—”

“What?” He laughed and flipped on his signal. She didn’t know why he bothered because they were practically alone on the roads. Someone must’ve called a town-wide snow day when she wasn’t looking. “Some imagination you have, O’Halloran.”

“You came up with that fanciful story about some old lady benefactor but why should I believe you? You’ve already shown yourself to be a liar.”

“Because I’m telling the truth. The only reason I lied about my age is so you wouldn’t shut us down before we even started. I could tell you were in classic doe mode—”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, skittish, afraid of people getting too close. Men,” he clarified. “I’ve been there too. With women, I mean.”

“Me skittish? Like you? Hardly. We are very different.”

“We’re more alike than you think.”

“Sure we are.” She shoved the soaked tissue into the front pocket of her purse and stared straight ahead into the whiteout beyond the windshield. Not that anyone would ever guess it was anything but a sunny day from the relaxed, capable way he was maneuvering the tow truck on the icy roads. She picked up the coffee he hadn’t touched and took another long drink. “I really don’t appreciate you making me act like such a raging bitch. I’m not one normally, so why do you bring it out in me?”

“Sexual frustration?”

“I had an orgasm last night, thank you very much. One orgasm. Which is all that will be occurring between you and me.”

“Hmm.”

God, this man. She wanted to punch him and fuck him simultaneously. “Did you read one of those articles where it said all women near forty need sex twenty-four hours a day or something? Am I your idea of an easy mark?”

“No. But I can tell you that twenty-five-year-old men pretending to be thirty definitely do, especially when they’re suffering through the longest dry spell in the history of ever.”

“My dry spell could beat yours.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” He reached over and flipped the lid on the coffee mug to closed a second before they took a sharp curve. Then he opened it up again once they’d gone through it. “Sex isn’t the only reason I’m interested in you.”

She stared at his hand, now resting confidently on the bottom of the wheel. Where did men that considerate even come from? She sure hadn’t known any. Except her brother and even Brad wasn’t that helpful. He started Sara’s car for her on cold mornings but he didn’t monitor mug spillage. “Oh really. Do you find my lack of knowledge on fuel injectors cute?”

“I bet your knowledge about birds and how to keep your gift-shop customers happy makes up for it.”

“Smooth talker.”

“You’re also funny and smart and the wrinkle you get between your eyes when you’re concentrating or pissed off is extremely sexy. You love your brother and want to make him happy. And you don’t like being seen as soft so you do your best to seem hard.” He reached over and did the coffee move again as they made the last turn before the shop. “How did I do?”

“Fine.” Too fine, she admitted, flicking away his fingers before he could open the top of the mug again. “That still doesn’t explain why you want to go out with me. Surely you must have women your own age willing to play in your sandbox.”

“Oh, we don’t have to go out, we could stay in.” He grinned.

And much to her consternation, she grinned back.