“What’s with calling me Doctor all the time now? Before you got me in the sack it was Sara Smile.”
Her faintly petulant tone made him grin as he moved away to sort the invoices on the counter. His organizational skills had been lacking more than usual lately, due in no small part to the distraction offered by the gorgeous woman at his side. “I thought you didn’t like that nickname. And I’m pretty sure calling you my fuck goddess probably isn’t respectful enough.”
She laughed and moved closer so that her soft breast brushed his arm. “So why aren’t you disrespecting me on this counter yet?” She leaned up and her hair tickled his neck. “Or are you all growl and no grind?”
To avoid being swayed by temptation of the sultry kind, he put the counter between them and reached for his clipboard to start writing up her work order. He’d just taken a quick look under the hood of her car, but he was reasonably sure they were looking at a depleted battery, along with a clogged fuel filter. Maybe a few other contributing factors as well. “How good are you at doing maintenance?”
She tilted toward him, her minty breath wafting over his face. “I have a nice selection of toys. Is that what you mean?”
His lips twitched. “I’m referring to your car, Sara.”
Her heavy sigh made his smile widen. “I get regular oil changes.”
“What about the rest? Tire rotations, new filters, routine stuff. Who normally services your vehicle?”
“Uh, Swifty Brake and Tire.”
He groaned and rubbed his chest. “You live with a mechanic, and you’ve been taking your car to a cheap chain place? You wound me.” At her silence, he looked up and caught her fiddling with her hair. “What’d I say now?”
“We aren’t living together permanently.”
“No.” It took everything he had to keep his tone easy. “But we are right now. And the bedroom’s yours as long as you want it.”
Her cheeks reddened with the beginnings of a flush. She didn’t blush so much as glow, her skin warming until the light dusting of freckles on her cheeks stood out in sharp relief. “I never had roommates before. Not even in college. I lived at home and then I had an off-campus studio. I never even lived with a boyfriend.”
“How come?”
She shrugged. “I guess I thought I always needed a lot of space of my own.”
“And do you?”
“Not as much as I thought, apparently.” She ran a pink fingernail along a groove in the counter, and he swallowed a groan. Yet another reason he never could’ve taken her there. The place wasn’t classy enough for a woman like her. “I guess the plan to ravage me is out the window?”
“Ravaging you’s out for tonight at least, yes. Seducing you, no.” He stilled her hand and laced their fingers together. “How do you feel about going home and taking a bath?”
“A bath?”
“Mmm-hmm. In my nice big tub that happens to have lots of jets.”
“With Kim there?” Even as she asked the question, she drew her hand away to fumble her phone out of her purse. “Shoot, she’s home alone. I told her I’d call to check in if I was running late.”
He watched her go through her mother hen routine via cell. After several minutes of stops and starts and halfhearted offers of extra pillows and soup—though what soup would do for a sore ankle, he had no idea—she hung up and frowned. “She asked me to call you and tell you not to come home. When I told her about my car, she seemed relieved we’d both be out of the house.”
Used to his sister’s antics, he went back to his form. “Are we being evicted?”
“I think she has a ma
n over.”
“Now there’s a shocking turn of events.” He hooked Sara’s car keys to the top of the clipboard and set it aside. “I don’t have a loaner vehicle available or I’d give you one. Since you’re so demanding of my time—” he grinned at her glower, “—do you want to keep my truck tomorrow?”
“I don’t know how to drive a stick.”
“Really. I thought you did fine.” At her bland look, he laughed and tossed her his truck keys. She caught them one-handed. “I’ll give you a lesson on the way home.”
“You’d actually let me drive your truck? And what do you mean, on the way home? Kim told us to stay away.”
“It’s half my house and last time I checked, she’s not the boss of me. And yes, Sara, I would let you drive my truck. If you strip the gears, I’ll just strip you.” He circled the counter and drew her firm backside against his rapidly firming front. One glimpse of the total package of that uptight business outfit, and he was a dead man. Except below the waist where he was very much alive. “Oops, forgot,” he murmured against her neatly clipped hair. “I’ll be doing that anyway.” Though in a place much more suitable for it than a shop where a bunch of grimy guys hung out all day. She deserved much better than a quick screw.