He gave the picture one more glance before reaching across me to set it back on the end table…and I felt his arm brush against my chest. I bit the inside of my cheek against the not-completely-unpleasant feeling. How sad was it that was the most action I’d gotten in months?
“Tell me more,” he prompted, completely unaware of my body’s alarms going off beside him. He leaned casually back into the sofa cushions.
“Uh, more?” I cleared my throat, my voice suddenly husky. Jesus, who was I, Lauren Bacall? It was an accidental touch. I needed to get a grip.
“About your childhood. You spent time in Egypt. Where else?”
“Oh. Um…well, there were the catacombs in France. That was a fun summer. Then the year we spent in Peru excavating Incan ruins.”
“Your parents had eclectic tastes.”
“They’re both forensic anthropologists. They specialize in figuring out how people died. Everywhere you find ruins, there are dead people.”
“Kind of morbid.”
I shook my head. “Not at all. It was fascinating. Learning about how they lived, how they worked, how they died. It was all connected. It was like a private glimpse into their lives.”
“Hence your fascination with other people’s lives.”
I grinned. “I guess I’ve always been interested in gossip, huh?”
“What about your life?” Cal asked, cocking his head at me.
“What about it?”
“There don’t seem to be any photos past the age of pigtails. For all your fascination with other people’s lives, I don’t see evidence of much of a life of your own.”
“Ouch.”
He grinned. “I didn’t mean it that way. What do you like to do?”
“Work, I guess.”
“What do you do on the weekends?”
“I don’t know.” I shifted in my seat, the sudden Dr. Phil analysis unnerving me. I wasn’t sure I really liked looking that deeply into myself. Let alone letting someone like Cal look. “Ordinary stuff.”
He leaned in close, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest, smell the faint scent of wine on his lips. His eyes went dark, intense, like he could, in fact, see right into my psyche. Then his voice went low and intimate.
“I have a feeling there’s nothing ordinary about you, Bender.”
For a second I was terrified that he was going to kiss me. Terrified, because I had no idea whether I’d kiss him back.
Luckily, before I had a chance to decide, he stood, picking up another abused cushion from the floor.
“I think I should sleep here tonight.”
My breath caught in my throat. Shit, had my thoughts been that plain on my face?
As if he could read my mind, the corner of his mouth quirked upward. “On the couch.”
Right. I cleared my throat. “Um, yeah. Sure, yeah. That would be fine.”
I got up, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, and grabbed a couple blankets from the hall closet, throwing them down on the sofa.
“So, um, bathroom’s in there, fresh towels under the sink if you need them.”
Cal nodded. “Thanks.”
“So…good night.” I did an awkward little wave in his direction.
He smiled, his eyes still giving me that look like he could see right through me. “’Night, Bender.”
I quickly hightailed it to my bedroom, ignoring the mess of clothes and papers and files the intruder had made of my floor. Instead, I kicked off my shoes, stripped off my jeans, and jumped in bed. I slipped under the covers in my T-shirt, feeling just how tired the drain of earlier adrenaline had left me. I closed my eyes, letting the distant sounds of the freeway lull me to sleep.
It wasn’t until I was just drifting off that I realized I’d completely missed my cyber date with Man in Black.
I awoke the next morning to the sound of Matt Lauer’s voice coming from my living room full blast. Reluctantly, I peeled myself out of bed and stumbled though the bedroom door. I’m not exactly what you’d call a morning person. I’m more of a don’t-talk-to-me-until-I’ve-hooked-up-my-coffee-IV person. Preferably after noon.
“Jesus, what is that racket?” I asked, stumbling into the living room.
On the sofa sat Aunt Sue, clad in a fuzzy powder blue bathrobe and matching slippers, and beside her Cal, arms folded over his chest, hair still wet from his shower, his nose just slightly swollen still. Light stubble lined his jaw, telling me he’d been too macho to use the pink razors in the bathroom. Though the five o’clock shadow was a good look on him. Instinctively, my hand went to my bed head, trying in vain to smooth the errant strands.
On the end table was the source of the full-blast Today show airing-Aunt Sue’s hearing aid, conspicuously not in her ear.
“You’re going to wake the entire neighborhood,” I pointed out, crossing the room. Cal’s eyes followed me, and I suddenly wished I’d stopped to throw on a pair of jeans first. Instead, I tugged at the hem of my T-shirt, willing it to cover my butt.
It almost complied.
“’Morning, peanut,” Aunt Sue said, her eyes riveted to the cooking segment.
“’Morning.”
“What?”
“I said, ‘morning,’” I yelled. “Why aren’t you wearing your hearing aid?”
She gave me a blank look.
“Your hea-ring ai-d,” I repeated, pointing to it.
She waved me off. “I don’t need that thing. I can hear the TV just fine.”
“So can Canada. Can you turn it down?”
“What?”
“Down! Turn it down!”
“Actually, yes, I’d love some coffee, thanks.”
I threw my hands up. It was useless. “I’m gonna take a shower,” I muttered instead.
“With cream,” Aunt Sue shouted after me.
I ignored her, instead shutting the bathroom door behind me with a click.
The room was still warm and steamy from Cal’s shower, a lingering scent left behind that was subtle yet very clearly male. As I stepped into the spray of water, I couldn’t help thinking that just moments ago his naked body had been where mine was now. An odd awareness tingled in my belly.
Yeah, I really needed to get laid, didn’t I?
I shook it off, opening the tiny window over the bathtub to let the steam out as I lathered my hair.
Twenty minutes later I was washed, dried, dressed in jeans, a pair of hot pink converse (yes, I owned them in multiple colors), and a white button-down shirt. I swear it had nothing to do with the way Cal had looked at me last night that I matched it with a hot pink bra that showed just the slightest bit underneath. Nothing at all.
I emerged from my bedroom to find Aunt Sue now engrossed in Regis and Kelly, a cup of java in hand. Cal was manning Mr. Coffee, and as soon as he saw me, he pulled down another mug, filling it to the brim with sweet life-giving liquid. I’ll admit, I was beginning to warm to the guy.
“My fault,” he said, gesturing to Aunt Sue.
“What is?”
“I told her she looked too young to need a hearing aid.”
I rolled my eyes. “Way to go, Romeo.”
He grinned. “Sorry.”
“Apology accepted. But,” I warned, “only because you made coffee.”
As soon as I was semicoherent, I pulled out my cell, called a locksmith, then began running through my address book for someone who could sit with Aunt Sue that day. Unfortunately, my cousin Brad had to take his dog to the vet. Aunt Sue’s daughter, Catherine, was at Magic Mountain with the kids. My uncle Don was going golfing. Suddenly everyone had dentist visits or dry cleaning to pick up or belly button lint that needed removing. Apparently word had spread of my aunt’s cooking.
In the end, there was only one person on the list who had the day off and was willing to spend it watching Game Show Network at top volume. Aunt Sue’s older sister, Millie.
“Tina, look how much you’ve grown,” Aunt Millie said half an hour later when I answered the front door. She immediately began pinching my cheeks and making clucking sounds at how skinny I was.