Chapter Ten
The next day, Mike placed a shallow plate of puppy gruel in Smalls’s playpen, a wire circle he’d asked Gracie to pick up for him. The little piglet rushed the food, making slurping sounds as he ate.
Mike laughed as he grabbed his keys off the desk. “Okay, little dude. I’m going to a lunch meeting and will be back in an hour. Eat, sleep, and if you need to use the puddle pads, that’s cool. Try not to get too messy.”
The puppy lifted his head, licking his mouth where a gruel beard adorned his face, and Mike laughed.
“I guess it’s too late for that, huh?”
Smalls dived back into his meal and Mike pulled the blinds. After he grabbed his helmet, he snuck out the door quietly and locked it. Hopefully, Smalls wouldn’t start squealing when he realized Mike was gone. The puppy became apprehensive whenever Mike left his sight. When he’d put him in his crate last night, the pup had howled until Mike gave in and let him sleep on the bed with him.
Of course, he’d regretted that decision when he woke up to see Smalls peeing on his feet, but it had been a long time since he had a puppy. There was a relearning process.
He put on his helmet and straddled his motorcycle. His heart kicked up into high gear as he took off toward Wendy’s internet café site. She had called him this morning and told him she’d meet him there with lunch, since she was the boss. He hadn’t argued, but it had been hard not to. He wasn’t used to letting women pay, even for work expenses.
Mike pulled around and parked in front of the building, directly across from The Local Bean, Gracie’s coffee shop and bakery. He got out, noticing the silver sports car in the parking lot next door.
He removed his helmet, pushed the door open, and found Wendy sitting in the middle of the empty space at a little folding table and chairs. Two foam containers and drinks were placed in front of her on the tabletop and as she stood, smoothing her hand over the front of her tight blue dress, Mike couldn’t help scanning her body.
“Hello, Mike. Good to see you.” She held out her hand, which he took, but the way she squeezed it was anything but professional. “Do you want to eat first or go over the space?”
“We can do both.”
They sat at the table, and he flipped open his container, grinning at the Jensen’s bacon burger inside.
Hello, my friend.
Wendy poked her fork into the salad in her container, gesturing with her other hand. “So, I was thinking about setting up computers along the wall to the left, and on the right will be the café counter.”
Mike paused as her words sank in, and he swallowed slowly, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. “When you said internet café, were you just talking about a place for people to come and play online games together, or an actual place with coffee and food.”
“Well, when people play on computers, they usually get hungry. Doesn’t that make sense?”
“Yeah but…there is a coffee shop right across the street.” He didn’t mention the fact that his best friend owned that coffee shop.
“And what, they have a monopoly on coffee?”
“No, but…why did you pick the space directly across from The Local Bean? There are several options down the street.”
Wendy put her fork down and folded her hands on the table. “I get the feeling you don’t want the job now.”
Shit. He needed this job to stay afloat, but he didn’t want to screw over Gracie, either.
“I do want this job.”
“Then don’t worry about The Local Bean. This town is growing, and there will be plenty of business for both of us.”
Mike wasn’t sure he believed her, but the little voice in his head told him to shut up and think about himself for once. His financial portfolio needed him to survive this slump; Gracie had been running the coffee shop for seven years and served a loyal clientele. People would continue to support her.
“The computers are going to be roughly a thousand dollars apiece with labor,” Mike said.
Wendy picked up her fork again. “And?”
“I’ll need fifty percent down for a job this big, especially with the custom materials I’ll need to purchase.”
She finished swallowing the bite of salad she’d eaten before responding. “Fine. Do you want cash, check, or card?”
“Cash or card.”
“Great. I’ll follow you back to your shop and you can run my card.” Wendy wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I feel like we should celebrate. What are you doing later?”
“Heading home after work. I just got a new puppy and I don’t like to leave him alone for very long.”
“Aww, I love animals, but that’s too bad. I was thinking maybe we could grab a drink tomorrow.”
Mike’s gaze dipped to the tongue she’d just run over her lips. Conflicted, he sure as hell was. But she was attractive and direct, and he’d do himself no favors to turn away an available woman he didn’t have to work so hard to figure out. “You know, I’m sure one drink wouldn’t hurt.”
Ellie arrived at Mike’s at five forty-five the next day. Based on his texts she’d supposed his business lunch had gone from professional to personal when the two of them met for drinks at Buck’s Shot Bar. It was against everything she’d advised him, but at least it had given her an excuse to test out a new look on him.
She was carrying several shopping bags filled with clothes for him to try on. She’d even slipped clippers into the bag, in case he wanted a little cleanup.
Ellie had also bought several pairs of jeans and T-shirts, and she’d found a distressed leather jacket at a thrift store in Twin she prayed would fit. A pair of steel-toe combat boots would complete any of the outfits she’d chosen. She’d gotten his shoe size when she was out and about, but he had said large on the jacket. He would probably hate the leather chaps she’d picked up at a Western store and at least one of the shirts, but she’d wanted a variety, so he wouldn’t feel as though he didn’t have a choice.
Really, there was no wrong choice. All of the clothes were hot.
She knocked hard and heard something crash inside. When Mike answered the door a few seconds later, his scowling face was covered in shaving cream, but her attention was immediately drawn down to his bare, sculpted chest. None of those stuffy collared shirts or loose T-shirts had prepared her for those pecs or the bumps and ridges of his abs. Holy hell, those were some good abs. Some male models had to rely on airbrushing to get muscles like that.
He was wearing boxer shorts and nothing else, and his skin wore a sheen that made her guess he was still damp from a shower. When her gaze finally met his, he wasn’t glaring anymore.
No, his expression was intense. Hungry.
She almost gulped, but that might give him the impression that he affected her.
He didn’t, of course. She was just observing him. Closely.
“You’re early.” His voice was deeper, surly, but his obvious irritation didn’t bother her.
“Yes.” The shiver that shot down to her lower belly did. She shouldn’t be turned on by Mike, no matter how nice his body was or how rumbly his voice sounded. She’d bumped into a cute guy while she was shopping and had given him her number. He was a dentist in Twin Falls, and his smile was amazing.
He didn’t exactly give you quivery, excited feelings, though, did he?
Mike reached out and took some of the bags from her hand, and it startled her out of her thoughts when his hand brushed hers. His fingers were cool, yet just that simple touch burned her skin. His hair glistened and the spicy, clean scent of his soap was delicious, intoxicating, and she almost leaned into him, but he was already pulling back, carrying all the bags inside.
Ever the gentleman.
The thought sobered her somewhat as she followed him inside. Mike was a good guy, or so he said. Raised right, close to his mama, held doors open…
And yet the expression in his eyes when he looked her way again contradicted it all.
It was bad in the melt-her-panties sense. It made her want to find out what was under his shorts, and that was beyond bad.
“You look really nice,” he said.
She smoothed her hands over the black skinny jeans that disappeared into knee-high lace-up boots. She’d planned on heading out with Jenny tonight, so she’d left her long hair down around her shoulders. She wore a leather jacket over her low-cut sleeveless purple top.
“Thank you.” She hated how pleased she was by the compliment. She took off her jacket and to change the subject, stepped up to him and ran her finger through his shaving cream.
“Why is your face covered in shaving cream?”
“Because I wanted to dress up like Santa Claus. Why do you think?”
She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but she couldn’t fight the overwhelming desire to tease him. Taunt him. Stepping close, she watched his eyes stray down to her lips and a zing of pleasure made her mouth tingle.
“If you’re trying to shave off this prickly, dark hair”—she scraped off more shaving cream, the fluffy wetness and the scratchy hair delicious against the side of her finger—“don’t. Bad boys nearly always sport a little scruff. Just enough to leave marks on the skin.”
Slowly she walked over to the sink and grabbed a dish towel of the counter, running it under hot water for a minute. As she wrung it out, she looked over her shoulder at him, and he hadn’t moved, as though he was waiting to see what she had planned.
Why am I teasing him like this? He’s about to go out with someone else, and I don’t have any real interest in him…right?
But when she was standing in front of him again, running that warm towel down his cheek until she’d removed every inch of that white foam, she had the urge to smooth her hand over those rough whiskers. She wanted to feel the tickle and scratch on her palm as she reached up and tangled her hand in his messy hair, pulling his lips down to hers. Would he let her if she tried?
“Ellie.”
A dark threat lingered in the curt use of her name and she bit her lip to keep from sighing.
“What?” she said when she trusted herself to speak.
Ellie thought he’d make a joke, like he always seemed to when things got too intense, but he didn’t. It was a warning.
“Whatever game you’re playing right now, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” She watched his face for the irritation, but he oozed anticipation instead.
“Don’t think I won’t give you exactly what you’re asking for.”
“And what’s that?” Why did she sound so warm and inviting? She was practically begging him to—
Before she could move away, he grabbed ahold of her hand and pulled her along with him as he sat down on a kitchen chair. Her heart thundered in her chest as she was suddenly yanked across his lap, stomach down, and his arm held her in place as the first hard smack came down on her ass.
“Ow, what the fuck!” Another whack. “You son of a bitch, I will have your balls.” Yet another whack. “Stop it!”
He released her and she scrambled to her feet. As he stood up, she cranked back her arm. She would have let it fly, but he caught it, his chocolate-brown eyes boring into hers.
“Now take some time and think about what you did.”
“What the hell did I do?”
“You were being a tease.”
Ellie caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if he was trying not to laugh, and she might have agreed with him, if her ass wasn’t stinging.
And if a small part of her didn’t like that he had surprised her.
But you hate surprises, don’t you?
“You’ll pay for that.”
“Probably,” he said, releasing her hand. “But it was worth it.”
And as he strode past her toward the bathroom, she rubbed her posterior. It didn’t hurt any longer, but she had never been spanked. And even if she had thought of it once or twice, she had never imagined a sexy-as-hell, slightly nerdy nice guy being the one to dish it out.
Wait, back up, since when did she start thinking of Mike as sexy? Well-groomed and nice to look at, sure, but panty-soaking-can’t-resist-him-sexy?
She realized he’d left the bags in the living room and hollered, “I have your clothes out here!”
“So bring them back,” he hollered.
She grabbed her bags and walked down the hallway, ignoring the shaking in her legs. She was completely thrown by her knee-jerk reaction to Mike.
“I can’t believe you agreed to go for a drink with this woman.”
“I told you, she’s hot and it’s just a celebratory drink.”
She scoffed loudly. “That was just an excuse to get you to go out with her. And after what you just pulled, I should just abandon you to the woman who is going to lock you up in a room, tie you to a bed, and probably sledgehammer your ankles.”
“You should stay away from Stephen King movies. Your imagination runs away from you.”
Ellie set the bags down on the bathroom floor and pulled out the jacket. “I got this for you, but now I’m not convinced you deserve it.”
“That looks expensive,” Mike said, frowning.
“I am an expert shopper, so it wasn’t as much as you’d think.”
“Still, I’ll pay you back. Or, instead of paying me for fixing your laptop, we can call it square.”
“Sure, fine, whatever, but what about theses pants?” Ellie held up a pair of boot-cut jeans.
“They look like jeans.” Mike picked up the other bag, and pulled out the boots, setting them on the counter. “Those are okay.”
Ellie rolled her eyes and reminded herself that men just didn’t seem to have the same reaction to clothes that women did.
Mike paused for a second and then pulled up the chaps with a grimace. “Please tell me you did not pay money for these.”
“Oh, come on. Those will be hot over the jeans and—”
“And there is no way in hell I’m wearing them.” Mike grabbed the jeans and stepped into them. As he lifted one leg and then the other, Ellie watched his leg muscles bunch and twist until he pulled them up and over.
As he buttoned and then zipped, he said, “Okay, show me your shirt choices.”
Ellie emptied the contents of her bag on the counter, even the clippers.
“What are the clippers for?” he asked.
“I just thought if you wanted to clean up the sides a bit. I could help you out.”
He picked up the army green T-shirt with wings and a slogan on the front, pulling it over his head without answering right away. The shirt hugged his pecs and shoulders, barely loose around his waist.
Yum.
Then he walked past her and came back carrying one of his dining-room chairs. She waited as he pulled a towel out of the cupboard and sat down.
“Do what you want. I’m at your mercy.”