Page 5 of When She's Handy

Sure enough, after a few minutes of me making a complete nuisance of myself, a huge shadow falls over me. I drop the metal I’ve been using as the universe’s most annoying percussion instruments, and squint up. Even with the sun behind him, I recognize the thick, heavy form, the massive arms, and the two broken stumps of horns.

“You need to quit bothering my crew,” is all he says to me.

“Hi Brux,” I reply cheerfully, and hold my hand up to him so he can lift me up to his side.

He ignores it.

Obviously I’m going to have to push a little harder. “Sure is a warm day here in the sun. Be a shame if I’d have to strip down and get naked while working. I bet that’d be a huge distraction to your men.” And I give my hand a little shake, indicating that he should grab it.

Brux’s jaw clamps, his mouth setting into a firm, unhappy line. But he reaches down, takes my hand, and then uses his other to brace me as he lifts me up to his side. Just like every other time he’s touched me, he makes sure to be careful, to treat me like I’m made of glass.

Those big hands have so much power, yet he would never bruise me. He’d never even dream of it, even as he’s scowling at me.

“What do you want?”

“You,” I say cheerfully. “Want to go to dinner with me?”

“Stop this,” he says, voice gruff. The expression on his face is utterly unyielding. “And stop coming back here. You’re not safe.”

“I disagree. I’m always safe with you.” I keep smiling, keep my gaze focused on him. He looks a little older than when I last saw him. Maybe a little more tired, as if life is beating him down. It makes me want to pull him against me and stroke that shorn head, to rest him against my breasts and let him know that I’m here with him, and we never have to be parted again. “So…dinner? I’d love to catch up.”

He sighs and puts a hand on his hip, the other on his brow. “For kef’s sake. What do you want?”

“I just told you. I want to take you to dinner.”

“Why.” It should be a question, but he says it more like a statement. An irritated, annoyed, at-the-end-of-his-rope statement.

“Because I want to talk to you? Because I want to see how you’ve been these five years?” When his expression doesn’t change, I get a little bolder. “Because I want to sit on your face and I figured we might want to carb-load before getting to the sex?”

That makes his eyes widen. He blinks at me.

“It’s a joke,” I say gently, reaching out to touch him. “I’m just teasing you.”

He brushes off my attempt to put my fingers on his arm, and I have to admit, that hurts. “You don’t need to thank me. There’s no debt to be paid.”

“I didn’t think there was.”

“Then why are you here?”

This time I’m the one that puts my hands on my hips. “Maybe I’m attracted to you?”

He blinks, clearly not believing me.

Time for stronger tactics. Do I threaten to get naked again? Threaten to date one of his men? Threaten to show up at the barracks that the crew is staying at? But I don’t want to come across as a stalker, either. I just genuinely want to spend time with him. Talk to him. Get to know him. Fuck his brains out. It’s been five years since I’ve had sex and I can’t imagine having it with anyone but him ever again. But I’m sensing that he’s getting skittish. It’s clear that if I keep pushing it’s going to drive him away instead of toward me.

“Look,” I say in a soft voice. “It’s obvious you don’t want me here. And maybe you don’t feel what I feel. But if you go to dinner with me tonight, I promise I won’t bother you ever again, all right?”

It’s a gamble. I don’t want to give up all the scrap here—nor do I want to give him up. If I can get Brux to dinner with me, though, the rules will change. I just know it. I need to get past that hard coating to the candy center underneath.

His tail flicks back and forth as he considers my compromise. He rubs the back of his neck with one large hand—a small movement that makes hot coils of arousal float in my belly—and then gestures at me. “Fine. Dinner. Tonight. Nothing else.”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you in front of the cantina at seven local time.” I wink at him playfully. “Wear something sexy.”

His expression remains utterly deadpan.

CHAPTER

FIVE

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