The chattering Tiffany tried to stay after her shift, but the nighttime supervisor for the cashiers put the kibosh on that. Fortunately the girl left before he could use a string of garland to strangle himself. He was used to dealing with people in his line of work, but a tat took three hours to do at most. Seven hours of Tiffany was too much for any man to take.
And the fact that Darcy took a little too much joy in the torture left him eager to work some payback into their evening. The store emptied out and they were more than halfway finished with the swags of decorations for the registers before the last employee left. These would be on a separate channel to play on a loop from one register to the next as programmed songs came through the sound system.
He was anxious to try it out. Now if only Darcy didn’t fill out a damn pair of jeans as if they’d been made for her he’d be further along with the register setups. She slid behind him, her chest brushing against his back as she reached for the edge of a wreath.
“Sorry, can’t quite…”
He turned into her, making sure his chest slid across hers as he reached for it. He unhooked it from the plastic L-bracket. “Is this what you need?”
The soft skin of her underarm brushed against his. She was so pale, dusted with toffee-colored freckles on every inch. Every inch that he was more than willing to explore. A night of counting her freckles would be a welcome project. Instead of backing off, she moved into him, her thigh sliding between his so denim whispered against denim. He rather liked having a woman line up with him. There was something to be said for a tiny woman to make a man feel big and powerful, but this way? This woman with her surprising curves?
In dress clothes she looked tall and professional, even a little untouchable. In a pair of jeans she was miles of curves and mouthwatering temptation. He groaned as she lifted her knee and bumped his balls lightly.
“You’re not playing fair.” He glanced up to the black orbs in the ceiling that probably had video cameras going at timed intervals. He’d like nothing more than to boost her onto the counter and find out whether she was a pretty bra type or she had a no-nonsense kind that would hold up to a day’s work.
He didn’t know which one would turn him on more.
And there lay madness.
She wasn’t his usual type of woman. She was softer in some ways, but still there was something about how she held herself away from people that made her even more intriguing. She was stiff and formal with her employees. She seemed to relax only around Jaime. She watched everything. He wasn’t sure if she was taking it all in or cataloging it for dissection and an efficiency overhaul.
And she liked to watch him.
He’d felt her gaze on him all night.
And he’d been half hard since they’d been locked under the tree together.
She batted long, light lashes at him. “Were there rules? I wasn’t aware of any.”
He growled, hovering an inch from her mouth. Her makeup had faded away long ago and he found that he liked her fresh face. More freckles had bloomed along the ridge of her nose and cheeks. Hell, they were all over her. Even on her lips.
Yeah, he wanted to count them, wanted to paint her entire body with his tongue to see just which ones would line up with spots that made her sigh or moan. His buttoned-up and remote landlady was missing again. In her place was a woman he wanted to get to know in every way possible.
“Maybe there should be,” she said softly. “Maybe I’m not ready for someone like you.”
He searched her face. The tension that had bowed tight between them snapped like a frayed rubber band. “Someone like me?”
“I can count the number of men I’ve been with on one hand.”
He arched a brow. “What makes you think I can’t do the same thing?”
She leaned against the cubicle-like structure that walled in the registers and folded her arms. Arctic Darcy was back.
“Okay, so maybe I’ve had a few more relationships than that. But whatever this is, it’s just us. It’s different than any other thing between anyone else we’ve been with because it’s us.”
She relaxed, letting her arms drop before taking his hand. “I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just… Well,
it’s been a while. I work a lot and I don’t like to mix work with…” She trailed off. “I’m not saying any of this right.” She stepped into him, again her knee nestled between his. “I like this feeling. I want more of it. Does it have to be complicated?”
He shook his head. It didn’t have to be. He’d hit the mother lode with this woman. Incredibly sexy and she wanted to just see where it went. No pressure. He brushed her cheek with his, the corners of their mouths touching briefly. “Let’s get this done and I’ll show you just how uncomplicated and fun I can be.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Unfortunately the close quarters made for creative ways for each of them to torture the other. And he found that he liked tacking up lights for the camera and behind the counter he found ways to brush against her, smooth his palm along her ass, tangle up their legs until she was giggling around him.
He liked her laugh.
Wanted more of it.