She was even beginning to sound like her fan club. “That’s a sci-fi quote, right? Never mind. I called for a reason. There’s another delivery down here for you.” He eyed the box with disgust.
“Can’t you just bring it up?” she whined. “I’m busy.”
“Doing what? Hiding?”
“And eating chocolate. Come on, Keir, bring the box up for me.”
“Nope. There’s no way I’m touching this.”
There was a pause as her tiny brain worked things out. “Sounds good. I’ll be right down.”
“You might want to take a minute to clean up. Your camera crew is hovering.”
“They aren’t my camera crew, Keir.”
He snorted a laugh and hung up. Mairi would do what she wanted to do—as usual.
When the door to the stairs to Mairi’s apartment opened a minute later, Keir knew she hadn’t bothered to take his advice. She bounced toward him, with her hair corralled in a massive scrunchie, wearing her old jeans, her Don’t Talk t-shirt and a pair of old, fluffy bunny slippers. She definitely hadn’t dressed for the cameras, and all Keir could think was that he wished they were still together in bed.
“What is it?” Mairi rounded a car, tripped over his toolbox and fell into him.
Keir put his arms around her to hold her upright, and just like that, the chemistry between them ignited. Her fingers flexed on his biceps and big eyes looked up at him with heated speculation.
“You keep looking at me like that, Rusty, and we’re going to put on a different kind of show for the cameras.”
Her eyes darkened, and she looked like she was actually considering it. Ah, hell. He backed her into the tiny corridor leading to the bathroom and pressed her against the wall. He didn’t give her time to think; he just cupped her face and indulged them both in a slow, lazy kiss. She melted in his arms, and Keir wished he was alone with her, instead of skulking in his garage with the world outside his door. Alone, he could push his luck with her, but here, he had to hold back and exercise patience.
Patience sucked.
He stepped away from Mairi, instantly feeling the loss, and watched as her cheeks turned his favorite shade of pink.
There was a strange vulnerability in her eyes. One he’d never seen before. It made him want to stand between her and the world, vowing to keep her safe. There was only problem with that: who would keep her safe from him?
“I thought one night would get it out of my system,” she said softly, oblivious to the ammunition she’d just handed him.
Ammunition he would never use against her. Instead, he reached out and ran his fingertips down her cheek. “Even if we’d had a million nights, it still wouldn’t be out of our systems.”
Mairi swallowed hard and tore her eyes from him. “Where’s this delivery you don’t want to touch?”
“Over there.” Reluctantly, he stepped out of the corridor and pointed to the corner beside the open garage doors.
When Mairi appeared beside him, the vultures scented blood and started to circle.
“Mairi Sinclair,” a reporter shouted, “can you tell us a little about your motivation in setting up a boyfriend competition?”
“There was no motivation,” Mairi shouted back. “I was hacked. This is someone’s idea of a joke.”
The crowd laughed, clearly thinking she was playing with them.
“Why won’t they believe me?” Mairi said to Keir.
He shrugged. “People are nuts.”
“There is that.” She strode over to the box and stood in front of it.
Keir followed, shouting out a reminder to the crowd that if they stepped through his doorway, he was calling the cops. They backed off.
“Please tell me one of those lunatics didn’t buy me a sex doll,” Mairi said as he came to a stop beside her. Close beside her, with their sides touching, because he couldn’t stand next to Mairi and not touch her.