Chapter Nine
Mike leaned against the workshop counter in the garage, watching Ellie straddle his black custom motorcycle. She was gripping the handles and actually making engine noises like a kid.
And he found it cute as hell.
Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing much makeup. He liked her natural beauty. It didn’t need artifice and when she wasn’t being a huge pain in the ass, he actually liked her. A little.
“Where are your helmets?”
Ellie’s question broke into his musings, and he pointed to the wall. One of the helmets he’d had for four-wheeling and the other he’d bought from Gabe this morning.
“Sweet,” she said, swinging her leg over. As she walked to where they hung, he followed her, placing his hand on top of the helmet she was about to pick up.
“And what do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“I wanna go for a ride.”
“You’re not taking my motorcycle, sweetheart.”
Ellie crossed her arms over her chest, and it took all the restraint he had not to lower his gaze. “Okay, I’ll ignore the sexist undertone in your voice that clearly says this is about me being a woman, and correct you. I am not taking the motorcycle. You are, and I am just going to ride shotgun.”
“What is it with you thinking I’m always being sexist?”
“Don’t use that tone and I won’t.” Mike let her move his hand and took the helmet she passed his way.
“I don’t have a tone, and are you sure you want to do this?” He’d never had anyone ride with him, but her confident enthusiasm was contagious. “You don’t even know if I’m a good driver. Why would you want a ride?”
“Because any woman in her right mind would, and this will give you a chance to show off your hotness. Although…” She fingered the bottom of his T-shirt suddenly. “Do you have a racing jacket or leather at least? You’re going to be cold in just this.”
Her warm hands burned through his T-shirt and her sweet, fruity scent stirred his desire. She was someone he hardly knew, yet she was bossy and familiar and treated him as if she had touched him a thousand times.
But she hadn’t and his reaction to her scared the shit out of him. Because he wanted to let her peel his shirt off, and then he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss those bossy lips.
Mike set the helmet down and caught her hand in his. “How about we talk about your genius plan and save the ride for another time?”
The moment was charged as she glanced down to their connected hands and back into his face. “Sure, if I can have my hand back.”
Mike released her and stepped away from her, cursing inwardly. He was acting like an awkward sixteen-year-old with a pretty girl who was out of his league.
You mean the kid you used to be.
That was the point, he used to be that guy, but now he was an adult with everything going for him.
Pulling the notebook out of his pocket, he skipped over number one and went to page two. “‘When you ask for her number/or for a date, be straightforward and clear.’”
“Yeah, don’t pussyfoot around the issue. When you ask, say something like, “I’d love to have your number so I can take you to dinner,” Ellie said behind him. “Or, you could say, “I’d love to take you on a date. Does tomorrow at seven work for you? I’ll pick you up.’ It shows you’re confident, but serious about her.”
Mike turned around as he flipped to page three. What she said made sense, and he preferred the direct approach. Which was why her directive for number three stumped him. “Never be too available?”
“Yes. Women are insecure by nature, and when a guy doesn’t call or text right away, it can make us crave him more. Although I don’t agree with Drew’s three-day rule, especially when most of us put our lives up on social media. We live in the world of smartphones and if you take longer than a few hours or a day, you’re either not interested, in a coma, or dead. However, if she calls and it takes you a half an hour to a few hours to call back, that is understandable. It’s just enough time to worry her and when you do call or text, she’ll be excited and relieved.”
“I notice you don’t seem to have an issue with insecurity,” Mike said.
Ellie shrugged. “I know I’m pretty. I’ve been told that since I was a kid, but pretty is just skin and bone structure. I’m more than that.”
“Yeah, everybody is more than how they look,” Mike said.
“But someone’s attractiveness is the first thing you notice. It’s easy to get caught up in looks, and surfaces, and never dig any deeper into what makes someone tick. Some of the ugliest people in the world are beautiful or handsome or whatever term you want to use. Appearances can be deceiving.”
“So, you’re telling me you’d go for an ugly, fat guy with a good personality?” Mike asked.
“No, probably not.”
Mike was surprised she hadn’t said yes. Women always went on about how sense of humor and personality were the most important traits, but Mike knew from sixteen years’ experience that wasn’t true.
“What? I’m being honest. Unless I got to know him, and he was amazing, my first initial reaction is going to be to look right past him. I know that isn’t right or fair, but it’s the truth. There has to be some spark of attraction before I will approach a guy.”
It bothered Mike that he probably wouldn’t have ranked as someone Ellie would be interested in if he hadn’t changed after high school.
Not that it mattered; this was just a lark, an experiment. An arrangement.
“How does your boyfriend feel about you hanging out at my house, all by ourselves?”
“First of all, I don’t have a boyfriend. Even if I did, he would have no say in what I do in my spare time,” Ellie said.
It didn’t matter if he had been on one or three dates with a woman. If he was interested in her, he would not like her hanging out with other guys. People could call him possessive or jealous or even tell him it was a flaw, but faithfulness was important to him. His parents had been high school sweethearts and married for thirty-plus years, and his mother always told him trust was the key to a long and happy relationship.
“I thought I heard you were seeing Dale.” Mike could tell he was aggravating her, and smirked.
“I’m not, but again, I don’t need to report what I do to anyone. I am my own person.”
“Maybe not, but if a woman I was with planned on spending a lot of time alone with another man, I would want to know,” Mike said.
“Why? So you could show up and grab her by the hair, pull her back to your place, and beat your chest like a caveman? Newsflash, if someone is going to cheat on you, they are going to do it, whether or not you act crazy and make a scene. You should at least try to have some dignity.”
“That’s called being a chump. If you sit back and bury your head in the sand, that’s when you get the call that it’s over and the other guy is at her house later that night.”
“Okay, this is straight-up out of a country song drama and you need to pull back on the macho bullshit,” Ellie said. “And the discussion is moot. There is no boyfriend.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear you aren’t dating Dale.”
“Why?”
The words left his mouth before he even thought about how they sounded. “Because you can do better than a shit like him.”
Ellie’s stomach dropped out at his words and she caught her breath. It was the second time tonight she felt as if they were having a moment, but just as she was about to ask him about it, he flipped to the next page of the notebook.
“‘Make a list of the qualities you’re looking for in a woman and don’t stray from them,’” Mike read, his gaze catching hers. “What if you aren’t sure what you’re looking for?”
Part of her was relieved he’d gotten back on topic. She knew there was some serious sexual chemistry between them, but if they gave in and explored that, it wasn’t going to end well. She could tell just from his home and office he was too type A for her. He was straight vanilla, no toppings, and she was spumoni.
“Every man has core ideas and values he’s looking for, just like with women. For instance, I would never get serious with any man I didn’t know everything about. Complete honesty, all cards on the table, no surprises.”
“Come on,” Mike said. “You can’t know everything about someone.”
“If you spend enough time together and don’t keep things from the other, I think you can. You have a problem with total honesty?”
“No, but I think knowing everything about another person is a tall order,” Mike said.
“Well, it’s not an order you have to fulfill is it?” Ellie said.
“And this is supposed to be about me anyway, right?” Mike’s tone was cool, and curt.
Get your emotions in check and stop being combative if you want this to work.
“Yes, sorry,” Ellie said.
“Well, I guess I would pick someone I was attracted to, who was funny and warm. She’d have to get along with my friends and family. She should be independent and trustworthy and just…love me, you know?”
There was something in Mike’s eyes when he said it, as though it was such an anomaly for someone to love him, that pulled her toward him. There was an overwhelming need to chase the sadness away.
“Well, with my help, we’ll find you exactly what you want, but you have to follow my rules.”
Mike lost the woebegone expression, an amused light flashing across his face. “Like don’t feed the Gremlins after midnight?”
“Laugh all you want, but never doubt my mad skills.”
“Okay, skills, what’s rule number six?” Mike asked.
“We can go over the rest of the rules later, and just start with image,” Ellie said, looking him up and down. “Who are your favorite actors?”
“I don’t really know a lot of names, but I guess I’d pick Malcolm McDowell, Sean Connery, or—”
“Okay, no, those are terrible choices. Try to pick someone who is at least in our generation.”
“Kevin Costner?”
“Closer, but what about Jason Stathem or Channing Tatum? Oh, or Shemar Moore? That T-shirt and jeans look with boots and maybe a leather jacket. We wanna give off a biker meets rock star aura...Why are you laughing?"
Mike was bent over baying with laughter. Between gulping breaths, he said, “When you said biker meets…rock star, I…pictured you dressing me…in leather from head to toe.”
“Did I say BDSM Dom? No.”
“Good, cause I don’t think I could pull off a ball gag in my mouth,” Mike said, still chuckling.
“That’s not…you know what, I’m not getting sucked into this conversation. I’ll go shopping, and I’ll come over with a few different looks for you to try.”
“No leather pants. I don’t need to have my boys cooked or squished.”
“Whatever you say, boss,” Ellie said.
Mike’s phone went off and he pulled it out of his pocket, grinning. “It’s Wendy.”
“Who is Wendy?”
“She’s a woman who wants me to do some work for her.”
His tone was sly, almost giddy.
Yeah, I bet.
“Did you give her your number?” Ellie had a bad feeling she already knew the answer.
“No, but she took my card.”
“Do not answer!”
“What?” Mike looked confused. “Why? She is offering me a job.”
“Then she’ll leave you a message. You want to make sure this woman is legit or she’ll lure you in, get her hooks into you, and blam! Suddenly you’re in a hole in her basement putting the lotion in the fucking basket!”
“I think you’re reading a lot into someone you hardly know.”
“It’s after your business hours, which she knows. Just let it go to voicemail.”
“She could be into me, too,” Mike said, pausing. “Come on, she was hot.”
“All the more reason not to answer. Are you forgetting my whole thing about playing hard to get?” When he still seemed skeptical, she threw up her hands. “Fine, don’t listen to me. You go out with her, but don’t come crying to me when she introduces you to her mother over the phone.”
Ignoring her, Mike slid his thumb over the screen before she could stop him and answered. “Hello.”
Ellie could hear a high-pitched voice and drew closer so she could hear. Mike moved away from her. “No, it’s fine. I’m glad you called.”
Ellie wanted to gag and when he looked her way, she crossed her eyes and puffed out her cheeks as if she was trying not to puke. He glared at her. “Sure, I can come by the space tomorrow. How is one? I’ll bring lunch.”
Did he not hear a single thing she’d said? He had completely lost control of the situation.
“Sure, I’ll pick you up. Just text me your address. Yeah. Me, too. Bye.”
Mike hung up. “Well, that was easy. See, you’re already helping.”
“Except you took my advice and tossed it out the window. What happened to taking control? You just made yourself so available, you might as well have written your name and number on a bathroom wall.”
“It’s a business meeting—”
“You just offered to bring your boss lunch.”
“Okay, I see your point, but I can do all that other stuff you said, and besides, I still need you to come over and give me a fabulous makeover.”
She rolled her eyes at his mocking falsetto tone. She wanted to be irritated, but he was so damn charming. “You are such a dork.”
“That’s what they tell me.”