Fully Engaged (Wingmen Warriors 12)
Yeah. Sure enough, over there in the corner he saw a little glass bowl with shreds of red leaves and other leafy stuff.
Man, he was seriously losing it if he was getting all worked up over the smell of glass cleaner and nature shavings. Except each of these items were clues about Nola, a woman he’d moved in with when he’d vowed no way in hell would he ever live with a woman again.
After splitting with his ex-wife, he’d been certain he would live alone forever. Not that he was actually living with Nola. Still, here he was learning more about her.
Except he did already know about the way she enjoyed having her br**sts stroked and nuzzled while he rocked inside her. Definitely not a wise thought to be having after a year without sex.
His brain must be malfunctioning from sex deprivation because now that he thought of it… Damn it. He should have checked her part of the house, not that he would make much of an intimidating watchdog right now. His body was pretty much shot. Better to check on her and go in armed with cops as backup if needed.
He reached for his cell phone and dialed her cell from memory.
She picked up after two rings. “Hello?”
“Are you okay?”
“Rick? Why wouldn’t I be? I told you in the yard…”
Ah, so she thought he was referring to the almost kiss. She definitely didn’t sound as if she had a stalker at her throat. He exhaled long and hard, his heart slowing to half time. “I wondered if maybe your letter-writing buddy might be around.”
“Oh. Uh. Right. No new messages.” Rustling sounded in the background, like her feet shuffling, a soda can popping, the refrigerator door closing. “I’m just getting something to drink before I bring your sheets. Hope you don’t mind the wait.”
He wondered what she was drinking, what it would taste like on her mouth.
“No hurry.” He could use a few extra minutes to gather some restraint when it came to seeing her, smelling her. Wanting to touch and taste her. Back to business, pal. “We need to come up with a duress word so even if someone dangerous is with you, you can let me know there’s a problem.”
“You’re right.” She slurped another sip, the slightly undignified sound kinda endearing because it was…personal? “I should have thought of that. How about milk shake?”
“Milk shake?” Another personal fact. She must have a weakness for them. What flavor? Knowing it was wrong, stupid and definitely unwise, he made a vow to find out her favorite flavor someday.
“Sure. Milk shake. I can work it into a sentence without it sounding weird, but the chances of me accidentally using it are next to nil.”
“All right then. Milk shake it is.” He held the phone and wondered why he didn’t just hang up now. “You’ll reset your security system after bringing the sheets? And make sure I have the code?”
“Of course.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll check the place over more thoroughly.”
“It’ll be good to have fresh eyes and ideas. The guys at work have been driving me crazy hovering over me. Maybe now they’ll back off with the kid gloves and start treating me like an equal again instead of acting like I might break.”
The guys at work.
She’d already had watchdogs? So why had she asked a busted up dude like him? For some reason her pride had needed to keep them at a distance. Interesting. He wasn’t sure whether to be complimented or insulted. This woman was tough as hell to understand. “Good night, Nola.”
“’Night, Rick.”
He thumbed the Off button.
Potpourri and pride.
Hell. The more he knew about her, the deeper she trenched into his mind.
He levered himself off the sofa, held on to the kitchen island, braced his other hand against the wall. Yeah, it was the principle of the thing, he would get to that crystal dish without his crutches.
And he did. It hurt, muscles tightening and straining, overworked and yeah, he would pay with a sleepless night, but he made it.
Every day a little more.
Leaning against the counter, he opened a cabinet, picked up her decorative bowl and hid the sweet-smelling junk behind a mixing bowl he was mighty damn certain a dial-a-meal guy like him would never use.