So, when I get in the car to drive home at the end of a long day at work, all I can think about is a cold beer and watching the basketball game on the TV so I don’t have to think aboutanythingfor the rest of the day.
But, when I turn into the driveway, I see Sarah muscling her way up the steps of her patio, loaded down with bags of groceries.
She has to have a dozen bags in her hands, and as I step out of the car, one of the bags breaks, and cans scatter everywhere.
“Crap,” I hear her mutter in frustration.
“Need some help?”
Her head comes up in surprise, and her cheeks darken with embarrassment. “Nah, I’ve got it. Thanks, though.”
I can’t help but think how entertaining she is as I lean back on the car and cross my arms over my chest, taking her in. She’s always been stubborn.
I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.
She bends over, giving me a full view of her ass, and attempts to gather the cans, but she still has all the bags in her hands, as well, and the cans fall out of her arms as quickly as she can pick them up.
When some tomato soup comes rolling down the driveway, and I stop it with the toe of my shoe, Sarah blows her hair out of her eyes and scrunches up her face in a whine.
It’s adorable.
“Why aren’t you helping me?”
I laugh as I pick up the can and walk to her. “Because you told menotto.”
“Well, I’m dumb, and you’re supposed to know that.”
I take the bags out of her hands and wait as she gathers the items that fell, then follow her through the back door into her kitchen.
“You can just set those on the counter there.” She gestures to the empty peninsula and opens the small pantry closet to put the cans away, then turns to start unloading the rest of the groceries.
I’m three steps ahead of her, already filling her fridge.
“I admit, you’re handy to have around,” she says with a grin and passes me a block of cheddar cheese and some butter.
“You know, you could ask me for help with the groceries, rather than carting all of those bags back from the store on foot.”
She shakes her head, sending her wavy blonde hair moving around her shoulders in a way that makes me want to run my fingers through the soft strands. “No way. You are not at my beck and call.”
“I don’t mind being at your beck and call.”
She narrows her eyes at me and puckers her lips.
And fuck if I don’t I want to kiss her with everything in me.
“That wasn’t my fault, smartass. The bag was defective.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t operator error?”
Sarah laughs and closes the fridge, gathering the bags and stowing them in the pantry. “Okay, okay. I might have taken on too much. Anyway, want to stay for dinner?”
Yes. Absolutely. I want nothing more.
“I don’t know, it depends on the food. What are you having?”
“Well, I just went to the grocery store, so naturally I’mnotcooking. I have tacos being delivered in about fifteen minutes, and I have plenty to share.”
“Tacos, you say? I’m in.”