“There.” Rob stepped back from the wall, letting his hands drop to his side and looked at the framed sketch with satisfaction. “Perfect.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Kari said, her hands over her eyes for what had to be the twentieth time since he had brought up wanting to buy the sketch from her.
“No, you’re talented and you need to suck it up and stop fighting the idea,” Rob said. They had found a pre-made frame with a mat at the craft store. Rob had made Kari sign the sketch before framing it and deciding that it should take pride of place over an armchair in his living room where a generic print he had been given by some relative had once hung for lack of anything else that was the appropriate size to go there. This was perfect. The print could be consigned to a hallway.
Kari still had her hands over her eyes. “Somewhere inside me is a fifteen-year-old girl who’s convinced you’re actually teasing me and you’re going to say, ‘Psych! Just kidding!’”
Rob pulled at her hands, peeling her fingers away from her face. She let him do it and looked at him, a half-exasperated, half-amused look on her face. “Don’t look at me,” she said.
He took her shoulders and turned her toward the wall with its new artwork. “Okay. But look at that and tell me you don’t think it looks great.
She heaved a sigh, her shoulders moving under his hands. Reflexively, he dug his thumbs into the tight muscles at the base of her neck, stroking out the tension. She let her head sag forward and a little groan of relief leaked out of her. Rob’s pulse picked up, aware of the smell of her—sunshine and clean laundry, sunscreen and warm skin. He resisted the urge to pull her back against his chest, to bury his nose in her hair, to trace the length of her neck with his lips.
“See? It’s good isn’t it?” He didn’t know if he was talking about the sketch, the impromptu back rub, or the so-bad-they’re-good ideas that were running through his head.
“The sketch is okay. The fingers are magic, though.”
Magic. The word shot through him, an electrical thrill of sensation. His hands slid down her arms, around her waist, and she leaned back into him, her head slowly tipping back to rest on his shoulder. They stayed that way for a few breaths. She just felt so unbelievably good in his arms. So right. The silky fineness of her hair a tickling softness on his neck, her belly rising and falling under his palms with every breath.
“We should probably—” she began to turn and lift her head at the same time as Rob’s face turned toward her, and their lips brushed, noses bumped, and his hands weren’t at her waist, but cupping her cheeks, fingers sliding into her hair and they were kissing. Her lips tasted like the Oreos she’d eaten in the car as she teased him about hanging her “amateur hour” on his wall.
Now the teasing was of an entirely different nature. Her head slanted and he followed her example, their lips moving and exploring, moving even closer until Kari’s breasts pressed softly into his chest, her arms winding behind his neck, his hands sliding down her back to pull her even closer. She moaned, a tiny sound deep in her throat and her fingers moved up the back of his neck, into his hair, causing currents of electricity to run from his scalp to his toes and every sensitive, neglected place in between.
Somewhere in the back of Kari’s mind was a little voice saying this was probably a bad idea.
Somewhere in the back of Kari’s mind was a voice plagued with ignorance that needed to shut up. Because kissing Rob was wonderful. Who knew bumping noses and almost drawing away in awkward embarrassment could turn into this warm, thumping need, this press of bodies and searching lips?
Well Kari sure knew it now and that little voice could go to hell, especially with Rob’s tongue teasing at the seam of her mouth, requesting entry.
Oh, yes. With a shuddering breath, she parted her lips and met his tongue with her own, licking and teasing, even more tangible evidence of his arousal pressing into her pelvis.
He pulled back with a little shudder, his eyes heavy-lidded and his breath coming hard. Kari forced herself to loosen her grip on the back of his head, her fingers easing out of his hair. But instead of pulling further away, Rob took one of her hands and pressed a soft kiss to her palm, sending a jolt of sensation through her.
“We should be smart about this,” he mumbled into her hand, his breath hot against her skin.
“Can we be stupid first and smart later?” she asked.
He chuckled, his mouth still pressed to her palm, his breath huffing warmth against her skin. Then he folded her hand in his and brought it to his chest, meeting her eyes, huge black pupils starting to contract. “I like you too much to be stupid, Kari.”
“I like you too, but being a little stupid isn’t such a bad thing. Is it?”
“There’s stupid and there’s stupid. I haven’t dated for nearly a decade because I was bad at it. I don’t want you to end up hating me.”
“There’s that going for the ending before the beginning again.” Irritation welled in Kari, combining in a toxic stew with sexual frustration, making her voice snap.
Rob smoothed a hand down her shoulder. “No, just learning from history. I jumped in feet first. Always. Too fast, too little thought. I’m not saying no. I’m saying let’s slow this down.”
Kari tamped her annoyance down. He had a point, as much as her hopping libido wanted to argue. After all, her ignorant, back-of-the-brain voice had said something not too different just a few minutes ago. Maybe that voice wasn’t so off-base after all.
She hated the voice. She wanted to be stupid. She wanted to be the irresponsible teenager she had never been. She’d been careful Kari, sensible Kari, get the best grades you can and keep your head down Kari. The first-generation kid who had to make her parents proud. Then to get a good job so she could take care of herself. Then to be the daughter who had to care for her dying mother.
She sagged back a little, conscious of his hand still at the small of her back, still pressing her to him. It gave her courage, the little evidence that he wasn’t repulsed by her. Maybe he even still wanted her.
His hand pressed more firmly against her back, the other evidence he wasn’t repulsed by her hard against the front of her body.
“What’s the issue?” Kari swallowed, her throat resisting.
“Me.” Rob’s eyes sank closed.
Rob took a deep breath. How to explain this without sounding like a presumptuous jackass?
I’m never getting married again.
Kari’s wide, pale blue eyes were expectant, waiting. He supposed she would say he was beginning at the end. She’d be right.
And what exactly did Kari want? She was forty-two, had just bought her own home, no long-term relationship. Putting those factors together, maybe she wasn’t interested in getting married either.
The thought was blinding in its novelty.
“What exactly do you want from me, Kari?”
Her eyes dropped to his mouth. With her free hand, she traced his lips with her fingertips, the barest touch, almost tickling. “Right now? I was enjoying kissing. It’s nice to get wound up over something that is pleasurable instead of something that’s stressing me out.”
“So that was it? Just scratching an itch?” Perversely, the idea irritated Rob. He released the hand that he had been cradling in his and she gave him a little smack on the shoulder.
“No. I also like you. You’re kind and funny and helpful and I enjoy spending time with you.”
“Funny?”
“Well, you do tend toward dad jokes. But I’m not lactose intolerant, so I can handle the cheese.”
“Of course I tell dad-jokes. I’m a dad.” He’d never considered that telling dad jokes could be appealing. But Kari was different from anyone he’d ever met before. Special.
“I haven’t forgotten.” She frowned a little at that, and she pulled away a little. “Maybe it was a bad idea.”
He smoothed his hands over her shoulders, stilling her retreat. “What’s the matter?”
Her eyes flicked toward the drawing, then back to his face. Her lower teeth raked over her upper lip.
“Use your words, Kari.” Glancing at the sketch, light started to dawn. “Is it something about Mia?”
“I just…no. I’ve never dated someone with a child before. I don’t want to do something wrong.”
Rob tugged her to the sofa and sat on it, pulling her down with him. “It breaks my heart a little bit to say it, but Mia’s an adult. I don’t know what kind of concerns you have about her as a factor in my life, but you might as well come out and say them.”
“I just…” She huffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. She didn’t seem to like me much. I know how close you two are. That seems to be the makings for a bad situation.”
Rob blinked at Kari for a few endless moments. “You thought she didn’t like you?”
“Well, she seemed very…reserved around me.”
“She is reserved with people she doesn’t know well yet.”
“So she doesn’t dislike me?”
“Why are you hanging on to this notion? I told you she liked you.”
“No, you said she didn’t dislike me.”
“And?”
Kari blinked. “There’s a world of difference.”
“Good grief.” Rob leaned over and picked his phone up off of the coffee table. Tapping at his texting app, he scrolled until he reached the message he wanted. “Look at this and tell me my daughter dislikes you.”
I like her. You should date her.
Kari stared at the words as if they were written in a language she didn’t recognize. The header in the texting app showed clear as day that the message was from Mia, complete with an avatar of the young woman snuggled up to her dog.
“This is about me?”
“Of course it is. Look at the date and time stamp.”
Kari looked. The evening she had met Mia. The day she embarrassed herself to the ninth awkward circle of Hell and back. She’d been worried all this time for literally nothing?
“She was matchmaking based on less than five minutes’ acquaintance?”
“Why not? You had convinced yourself she loathed you in the same time period.”
Kari handed the phone back to him. “Somehow that seems more reasonable. Single dad, only daughter…”
“This isn’t a Greek tragedy and Mia’s an independent sort anyway.”
“And yet she’s trying to meddle in your love life.”
“My so-long-dormant-it-might-as-well-be-dead-and-buried love life, yes. If we were two Barbie dolls, she’d be banging us together yelling, ‘Now, kiss.’”
Kari cringed a little at banging, but the image still brought a smile to her lips. “Does she do this often?”
“Never.”
“Never?”
Rob shook his head. “Nope. Never. Not that I’ve been blessed with beautiful next-door neighbors with household repair needs before now.”
“Beautiful?” He said it with such a matter-of-fact air. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Kari’s face burned and she looked at her hands folded in her lap. Rob’s fingertip traced her cheekbone.
“Your blushes are lethal, Kari.”
“Oh. And here I just thought they were embarrassing. Guess you can die from embarrassment. Or someone can.” She lifted her gaze and was reassured by the smile lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes.
“You don’t think you’re beautiful?”
“I’m not exactly young.”
“Not the same thing. I’m not young either.”
No, but dammit, why did silver temples and stern, black-framed reading glasses make men look distinguished and sexy? Her pale blond hair camouflaged the gray that begun to thread through it, but it also looked less vibrant than it had. She was equally sure that when she needed reading glasses, they would just make her look like a frump.
“Take it from me, you’re beautiful and that’s that.” He pinched her chin gently, then let his hand fall away. She missed his touch already, wanted his hand back on her.
“So where does all this leave us?” She hated to have to ask, but couldn’t not know the answer.
He rubbed his jaw and considered her thoughtfully. “Well, you were supposed to spend the night here.”
That was right. The paint. She had forgotten. Disappointment welled in her. She’d pushed too hard. It was the couch and back to a friendly distance for them, she was sure.
“I was,” she said.
“Well if you still are,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face, “let me ask you this: do you want me to make up Mia’s bed?”
The question hung in the air between them. It shimmered and pulsed. Kari looked as if he had said something shocking. Had he completely misread the situation? His brain scrambled to go over what they had said, how she had reacted.
Her hand reached out, soft and warm, covering his. “You mean it?”
He turned his hand over to clasp hers. “I mean it. I’d like you in my bed tonight. If you want to be there. But only if you want to be there. And—” Crap. “I don’t have any protection. I don’t suppose you…?”
Her face twisted in a rueful smile. “If you insist on condoms, we can get some later, but…” Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling, but for once she didn’t blush. “I never thought I’d be grateful for cysts.”
“Cysts?”
“Painful, awful things. And I’ve had an IUD for four years because of them.”
Comprehension flooded through him. “Oh. And…” He hated to ask this, hated to think about it, but hated the alternative more. “You’ve…you’ve been tested?”
She nodded. “You?”
“A million years ago, but that’s still since my last, well. Encounter.” He was pretty sure it was his turn to blush and from the sly, wicked smile on Kari’s face, the heat in his cheeks was showing. “Hey. You knew what you were getting into. Dad jokes and awkwardness.”
“I hold up my end of the awkward bargain, I think.” Her voice was soft, not teasing. Just commiserating.
“Well, aren’t we just perfect for each other?”
And the scary thing was, he really meant it.
Back in her house, Kari rummaged through drawers to get clothes for tomorrow. She dithered over pajamas. She didn’t usually wear anything to bed, but was she being presumptuous?
Just put them in the bag and keep going.
Moving to the bathroom, she grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste, a hairbrush, and various other odds and ends, shoving them in the little duffel with her clothes and the book from her nightstand. Going over what she had packed, she nearly smacked herself. She was going to be right next door. If she needed something that badly, she was going to be able to come over and get it.
Walking past the open doorway of her guest bedroom, she waggled her fingers at one of the nightstands. “Bye Buzz, bye Vibe.” She giggled a little in anticipation and at her own silliness. She needed to settle down. Putting a hand on her stomach, she took a deep breath, then another. That was better.
Wait.
Speaking of Buzz and Vibe, she strode to the nightstand standing in the middle of the nearly empty room and pulled it open. A quick rummage and she tossed another item into her bag, then zipped it closed.
She locked up her house and hurried next door, feeling conspicuous, as if the neighbors she didn’t even know yet were all peering out of their windows and seeing her bag and her red cheeks and coming to the all-too-correct conclusion.