Page 10 of Catching Mr. Right

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“So this is your place?” Mandy struts across the dining room floor to where I’m propped at the far end in one of the large arch windows set back in the concrete wall. The sun’s streaming through the glass behind me, hot and almost burning through my shirt.

“What are you doing here?” I read over the lines for the advertisement I’m working on and place my iPad on the windowsill before jumping to my feet. I don’t understand this girl at all. Last night I told her in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t going to entertain her fantasy about us. Hell, I was downright blunt about it, and yet she walks right into my restaurant like we’re friends. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I was curious.” She bites her lip as she moves slowly, turning in a circle to take in everything. The unstained wood floors, the plastic sheeting hanging from the rafters between the dining room and the kitchen that is yet to be fitted, the thick dust that covers almost every surface.

I brush a hand over the seat of my suit pants. Doesn’t matter how gray they are, the dust will still show up. She doesn’t say anything as she continues her examination. After about five minutes her quietness begins to grate on my nerves. I check my watch, and then I check it again. Why doesn’t she say what she’s thinking? I’ve met her twice and she’s always been upfront. She must hate the place. “What do you think?”

“It’s really pretty,” she says. Her voice is quiet, barely more than a whisper, but it echoes as loud as her heels do in the open space.

“I wouldn’t call it pretty, myself.” I shove my hands in my pockets and stride across the room to where she stands, staring at those plastic curtains. “But it’s going to come together nicely.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this so you can spend more time with your sister.” She smiles at me as we stand side by side. “Summer is so lucky.”

“I don’t know about that.” I shrug. I’m not entirely sure she makes the best life choices. Dating two men? Dating men who are both a decade older than her? It’s a little bit ridiculous. People can see that, which is why they’re still subject to gossip, now, a year later.

“I do.” Mandy turns to me. “From what Summer’s told me about you, I know how much you care about her and look out for her. If you weren’t going to end up in my bed, I would wish you were my brother.”

“Look,” I say, rolling up my sleeves and snapping the buttons together so hard that one breaks off and bounces along the floor. “I told you last night that I don’t see you as more than my sister’s friend. Is that so hard to understand?”

“Of course not, silly.” She shakes her head, her hair flowing around her face like a silvery halo. “But I also know it’s not true.”

“What do I need to say to make you see that it is?” I fold my arms across my chest, and her gaze falls on my forearms.

She licks her lips, and that pink tongue makes me into a liar before I can say anything else. My dick twitches. The same way it always does when she comes onto me. The same way it did any time I’ve thought about her these past twelve months. You have no idea how uncomfortable it is to be standing in the middle of a kitchen screaming orders at everyone when you have wood. Even half-wood, stretching out the front of your slacks. But it’s nothing more than a physical reaction to a pretty girl flirting with me, and sooner or later she’ll get tired of it.

“Why don’t you just admit that you know I’m right?” She glances up at me through her thick lashes. “You know it, I know it.”

“You’re twenty-fucking-two.” I hiss out a breath. “Twenty-two years old, Mandy.”

“Twenty-three, actually,” she corrects. “We haven’t seen each other in a year.”

“Twenty-three, then,” I huff.

“So?” She doesn’t even flinch.

“I’m thirty-six. I’m way too old for you.” I hold my hand up to stop her when she opens her mouth. Put my palm right on her lips and feel her hot wet breath on my skin. “And before you try to tell me that my sister is in the same position with Gabe and Dylan, don’t. I accept the fact she’s dating up because I love my sister, not because I think it’s right. It’s not. You’re naïve, barely out of your teens. You should be having fun with boys your own age.”

“That’s the problem with them,” she says. “They’re boys. I don’t want a boy, I want a man.”

“You don’t know what you want,” I try to reason with her. Sooner or later she’ll get bored with this older man fantasy. She’ll want someone who’s discovering the world at the same pace she is. And there’s so much of it to discover. So many adventures that girls her age should be having. “You can’t know.”

“But I do know. I want you. I’ve waited for you.”

“Well you shouldn’t.” I turn my back and walk away from her. I have to. She’s waited for me? What the hell does that even mean? Does she mean she’s waited these past twelve months for me? Has she not been with anyone in that time? Or is it longer? Or always? And why am I letting her unsettle me? I bite down on my back teeth and grimace. I’m better than this. I’m an adult with a strong hold on himself. I’m not easily swayed, not the type to let a girl like Mandy derail me. I don’t look at her and want to kiss her. My dick doesn’t ache when she tells me she wants me. I’m past that part of my life where a girl like her could ruffle me.

“I’m not going to change my mind. Nothing you can say or do is going to make me that guy you’ve decided I am. That’s you being naïve and immature.” I shove a layer of plastic out of the way and leave her on the other side. Where I can’t see her, and where she can’t see what she does to me. “Show yourself out please, I have to get back to work.”

The minute I hear the door close, I shove my hand in my pants and squeeze my dick. It aches to the touch, hard and leaking. I grit my teeth and give it a few quick strokes. I don’t know how she slips under my defenses so easily. Another yank, and I’m almost cross-eyed. The pounding of my pulse increases in my temples and I roll my neck. Any other girl her age and I wouldn’t have let her down that easily, but Mandy is also Summer’s friend.

I shouldn’t pay attention to the way she looks at me, or the way she flirts with me. I pride myself on not being that guy. The one who wants a piece of tail that’s still so close to being a kid. I’m not into women who barely know who they are, who should be dating guys their own age for the fun of it. Like my sister should have if she hadn’t fallen for two men who are far too old for her. Summer is different, though, from most women her age.

And Mandy is different too.

Mandy is under my skin.

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