Page 21 of Spark of Attraction

“I would have let you know. And I’m really happy you stopped by.”

She glanced away, as if she were afraid to meet my eyes. “I have to admit, I’m not here for completely selfless reasons. A friend of mine saw you having dinner with Malcolm in Peterborough the other night. Are you two dating?”

Crap. “I don’t think one dinner counts as dating as such, but we’re exploring the possibilities,” I admitted slowly.

She frowned. “You say that as if you’re skittish because you’re still dealing with the aftermath of Gareth’s abuse.”

Figured that I couldn’t get anything past her. “Yes. And no. I’ve got a really good therapist,” I hurried to assure her. “And she says I’m ready to date, I mean it’s been nearly two years since Gareth died, but dating Malcolm? It’s…strange, you know?”

“Like you got used to walking on eggshells around Gareth, and you think you have to around Malcolm?”

I started to shake my head, that I knew Malcolm wasn’t Gareth, but maybe she had a point. “Maybe? But mainly because it’s Malcolm. And I don’t want to screw this up. I don’t want to lose him as a friend if things go south.”

“Have you told him? About what Gareth did?”

I nodded. “He knows. He was great. He’s so supportive, you know?”

“That’s what the right person is supposed to do in a relationship.” She clasped my hand. “If you think Malcolm’s the right one, if you trust him, then go for it. But if he doesn’t treat you right, tell someone. Your mom. Me. Someone. And definitely your therapist. Don’t try to be strong and think you have to deal with it all yourself. I know I’m his mother but I’m here for you, too.”

“Thanks, Louise.” Damned if the waterworks didn’t start up.

CHAPTER TWELVE

MALCOLM

I stared Ellie’s text and tried to decipher if there was some hidden message within it.

Ellie

Your mom visited. She knows we went on a date. One of her friends saw us in Peterborough.

Nope, not that I could tell. Mom asked her if we were dating. Which we were. Especially since we’d spent every night together since that date. Mom would probably be over the moon that I was dating again. I had been dating before Ellie though I wasn’t in the habit of sharing who I was dating with my mom. But me dating Ellie? Color her one pleased mother.

The only concern I’d had was Josh, and nothing had happened after Ellie had told her family on Sunday, so even he wasn’t an issue anymore. So yeah, no biggie.

I texted back “Great” and then upon reflection added, “Want me to bring home a pizza tonight?”

My phone dinged seconds later.

Ellie

No pizza. I was thinking burgers on the grill. I cleaned it and got the propane tank filled. Yes, you can be the Burgermeister

Ha! A woman after my own heart. How did she know I loved firing up the grill? No doubt my mother had given her a heads up, probably telling her the tale of me barbecuing hamburgers during a blizzard in January a couple years back. Sometimes Mom’s interference wasn’t such a bad thing.

The last job of the day left me sweaty and dirty. After I’d parked in Ellie’s driveway, I stared at my reflection in my newly repaired truck’s rearview mirror, deciding if I should have gone home to shower first. Then I remembered how Ellie and I had showered together yesterday morning, and the day before that, and how we’d both ended up needing to shower again after some mad lovemaking. Having Ellie soap me up and get all the dirt off of me before handing me the tongs for the grill would definitely be a great date.

“You just going to stand there or are you coming in?” Ellie stood on the porch, leaning against one of the fluted columns. Her hair was loose today, swirling about her shoulders. Her bright-yellow shirt made her shine like the sun, the fabric taut across her breasts, the same way her black yoga pants hugged her hips. Both of which I’d spent a lot of time paying special attention to last night. And if I had my way, would again in a few minutes.

With a huff of impatience, she walked down the step and across the lawn toward me, her expression as predatory as I suspected mine was. Her gaze swept down me, lingering on my crotch, which reacted with interest. She reached out to touch me but I stepped back, and hurt replaced the need in her eyes.

I held up my hand to display the dirt embedded in my skin. “I’ve been crawling around in fibreglass all day.” And touching oily pipes and years of mice droppings but I didn’t think she’d want to hear that extra detail. “You do not want me to touch you right now. Want to help me shower though?”

The interest that had faded flared back into her eyes and she gave me a coquettish look. “Because you’re such a dirty boy?”

My momma didn’t raise no fool. I leered at her and nodded. “Yup. Want to clean me up, dirty girl?”

As she followed me to the main bathroom, she said, “I had a nice talk with your mom today.”

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