She felt encouraged that Steve had phoned her back, but she suspected he regretted it now.
“You know what you said earlier?” she began.
“I said lots of things earlier. Which particular thing are you referring to?”
Meg guessed his sarcasm was warranted. After all, she’d wounded his ego, and he wasn’t giving her the chance to do it again. “About the two of us, you know, dating.”
“You said Lindsey wouldn’t like it.”
“She doesn’t,” Meg said. “She asked me not to see you again.”
His gaze pinned hers. “Did you agree?”
“Not … entirely.”
His eyes narrowed with a frown. “You’d better explain.”
“Well, as you’ve already surmised, Lindsey isn’t keen on me seeing you. Which is exactly the reason you stopped by the house and did your biker routine, right? Well, it worked. She’s worried that you’re the wrong man for me.” It would’ve helped if he hadn’t bragged about his prison record and mentioned his parole officer’s name. But now didn’t seem to be the time to bring that up.
“Did you or did you not promise her you wouldn’t see me again?”
“Neither.” Meg sipped from the disposable cup and grimaced at the taste of burned coffee.
“Then what did you say to her?”
Meg lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “That I’d think about it.”
“Have you?”
Propping her elbows on the table’s edge, Meg swirled the black liquid around the cup and avoided looking at Steve. “I called you, didn’t I?”
“I still haven’t figured out why.”
That was the problem: she hadn’t, either. Not really. “I guess it’s because you have a point about seeing each other again.”
“Oh, yeah?” He gave her a cocky grin.
Her anger flared. “Would you stop it?”
“Stop what?” he asked innocently.
“The next thing I know, you’re going to ask me how much I enjoyed kissing you.”
Steve smiled for the first time. “It wouldn’t hurt to know.”
“All right, since it means so much to you, I’ll admit it. No man’s ever kissed me the way you do. It scares me—but at the same time I wish it could go on forever.” Having admitted this much, she supposed she might as well say it all. “My marriage left me wondering if I was … if I was capable of those kinds of feelings ….” She paused and lowered her eyes. “I was afraid I was, you know, frigid,” she said in a choked whisper.
She stared down at her coffee, then took a sip, followed by several more, as if the vile stuff were the antidote to some dreaded illness.
The last thing she expected her small confession to provoke in Steve was a laugh. “You’re joking!”
She shook her head forcefully. “Don’t laugh. Please.”
His hand reached for hers and their fingers entwined. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Meg,” he said gently. “You’re one of the most sensual women I’ve ever met. Trust me, if you’re frigid—and there’s a word I haven’t heard in years—then I’m a monk.”
Meg looked up and offered him a fragile smile. It astonished her that this man who’d known her for only a few days could chase away the doubts that had hounded her through the years after her divorce.
He cleared his throat. “I, uh, don’t think you should look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to kiss you.”
Her eyes drifted shut. “Maybe I do …. That’s what makes everything so complicated. I’m really attracted to you. I haven’t felt like this before—not ever, not even with my ex-husband, and like I said, that scares me.”
He stood up, still holding Meg’s hand, and tugged her to her feet.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Someplace private,” he said, scanning the store. He led her through the frozen food section, past the bakery and into a small alcove where the wine was kept. With her back to the domestic beer, he brought her into his arms and covered her mouth with his.
Their kiss was rough with need, but she wasn’t sure whose need was greater. Meg could feel Steve’s heart racing as hard as her own. She supposed she should’ve pulled away, ended the kiss, stepped out of his arms. But Meg didn’t want that.
Steve yawned. He was so tired. With good reason. It’d been almost three before he’d gone to bed and four before he’d been able to fall asleep. His alarm had gone off at six.
He arrived at the shop and made a pot of coffee. He mumbled a greeting when Gary got in.
“I hope you’re in a better mood than you were yesterday,” his foreman told him. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”
Steve checked over the job orders for the day. “Women,” he muttered in explanation and apology.
“I should’ve guessed. What’s going on?”
“You don’t want to hear this,” he said and headed for the garage.
“Sure I do,” Gary said, following him. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with Nancy, does it?”
Steve glared at him. “What do you know about my sister?”
“Not much,” Gary said and held up both hands. “Just what you said about her fixing you up with some woman. It’s none of my business, but you and this woman seem to be hitting it off just fine.”
Steve continued to glare at him. “What makes you say that?”
Gary laughed. “I haven’t seen you this miserable in years. Which probably means you’ve fallen for her. Why don’t you put yourself out of your misery? Shoot yourself and be done with it.”
Frowning, Steve turned away. The kid was a smartass, although now that Steve thought about it, Gary might have come up with the perfect solution.