Page 24 of Good Enough

He lay one wrist on the top of the steering wheel, his fingers hanging loosely. The other hand rested on the gear shift. “Don’t care. Dream. ‘Good.’ Spill it.” Schooling his expression into its usual blankness, hiding his eyes behind his aviators, he stared at her, waiting her out.

Finally, she sighed. “Great gravy! You woke me out of a dead sleep, Waters. I don’t even remember what I said to you. It was probably garbage.”

“Um, no. You said, and I quote, ‘That was a really good dream you woke me up from,’ and you were not happy about being woken up.”

“Not a morning person,” she grumbled.

“I’m like a virgin sailor on his first shore leave looking to get laid, so you might as well give it up.” Pulling out from the curb, he watched her out of the corner of his eye as he drove. He knew he was baiting her, but a twisted part of him found it fun to rile her up. And she was fidgeting. A lot.

Interesting. Must have been really good.

“It was nothing,” she lied.

“Uh-uh. Try again.”

“I was dreaming about the movie.”

“Doubtful.”

“Oh, fuck me, Henry! Fine! I was having a really sexy dream about… about my leading actor. There! Happy?”

His smile was huge as he chuckled. “Liar,” he murmured. He glanced at her for a moment as he got ready to switch lanes. Noticing the weird look on her face, he questioned it. “What?”

“You laughed.”

“And?”

“You’re smiling.”

“So?”

“It’s the first time I’ve heard or seen a genuine version of either of those from you.”

He kept his focus out the front window. “I am human. Humans do those things. G.I. Joe’s not allowed to do that?”

“No, it’s just… unexpected, I guess. You should do both more often. Suits you.”

He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

Abruptly, she turned and stared out the front window. “Yeah. So. Yeah.”

Yeah. That about sums it up.

“So,” Kubrick began, “has there ever been an almost Mrs. Waters? Or even someone who went beyond one night?”

He glanced up to see her shovel a huge bite of chocolate chip pancakes with extra chips and extra chocolate sauce into her mouth, very pointedly not looking at him. “A few girlfriends in high school. No near misses at the altar.” He set his coffee cup down and watched her continue to eat.

This woman is serious about her pancakes. Or is it just the chocolate? Either way, it’s sexy as shit.

“I’d ask if there’s ever been an almost Mr. Kubrick, but I don’t think there’s room for one in your life based on your unhealthy obsession for chocolate.”

She rolled her eyes and ticked off her reasons on her fingers. “A) No time for a ‘Mr. Kubrick.’ B) There is no point in not enjoying the fifth food group when it’s better than an orgasm.”

He blinked.

Okay. Wow, she just throws everything right out there, doesn’t she?

He shifted in the booth and attempted to adjust himself without drawing any attention to the fact that she’d just made sitting very uncomfortable. He wiped his mouth with his napkin, hopefully catching any overflowing saliva that seemed to have gathered in his mouth. “You are not dating the right men.”

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