Page 15 of Waiting for Tuesday

“Right this way,” I said, leading her to a doorway on the left.

She paused when she saw the staircase and glanced over her shoulder. For a second I thought she might change her mind, come to her senses, and realize she was a tiny girl, and I was the man who’d had librarian fantasies about her all night. But she didn’t. She lifted her chin, adjusted her bag, and started climbing.

I frowned. I didn’t know why, but I didn't like this one bit. All of a sudden, I wanted to lecture her about strangers. She looked like a strong woman, but I had no doubt I could snap her like a twig. My brows furrowed, and I remembered the guys who’d cornered her in the hall earlier. I followed behind her, my eyes locked on the slight sway of her hips noticeable even from under her baggy overalls, and I shook my head. When we made it to the top of the loft, my jaw ached from clenching so hard.Of course I have jumper cables. What self-respecting man doesn’t have jumper cables?

I walked past her, set my drawer on the desk, and gestured to the phone. “Do you always follow strange men you just met?” I couldn’t quite explain my anger. This was exactly what I wanted, but now I was pissed she wasn’t making wiser choices. Why I felt so protective over a woman I just met was beyond me, but there was something primal about how I felt about her. Maybe my response stemmed from finding her cornered by those assholes, or the fact I grew up with three sisters, or maybe it was because she reminded me of Bambi—a deer caught in headlights, who couldn’t get out of her own way.

I turned around and met her heated stare. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as much of a Bambi after all. Her stance was wide, her cheeks red, and her eyes were as bright as a brush fire. “Do you always try to bed two women in one night?”

What the hell?

My brows drew together and I grinned. “Bedtwo women?” It shouldn't have been so amusing, but this wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. “What are you talking about?”

She hoisted her bag high on her shoulder and half laughed, half scoffed. “It doesn’t matter.” She picked up the phone and began dialing.

I cringed and gripped the back of my neck. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was, but at the same time, I knew without a doubt that would be the wrong thing to do. I opened the lock bock and tried to focus on my job, but her words bothered me and I couldn’t keep quiet. “Is that what you thought? That I was bringing you up here to sleep with you?”

She shrugged then turned to face me. She was beautiful. Maybe even a little hotter when angry.

“Does that mean you wan?” But my question was interrupted by her doubling over with laughter.

Fair enough.

“Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t sleep with you now if you were the last man on earth.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and scowled at me. It was the cutest thing I’d ever seen in my life. Her wild hair, and her big glasses, and that body—

She turned away, speaking into the phone to the tow truck company, and I wanted to cut the fucking cord. I couldn’t help my silly grin. Like hell, she didn’t want to sleep with me. I’d been angry only a minute ago, but now I was having more fun than I’d had all night. The chemistry between us was about to set the loft on fire.

I turned toward my drawer and busied myself counting the evening till. But her voice distracted me, slightly husky, mixed with a bit of sexy, and a whole lot of sweet. I had to start over three times before I got the count right.

At one point, she asked for the address of the bar. I handed her a card and continued working. But when she set the phone back on its cradle, I couldn’t help but mess with her again.

I pushed myself from my chair and braced my legs apart. That got her attention. She turned to face me. Her head held high and shoulders square.

“I think you’re a liar, Tuesday.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because if I were the last man on earth, you’d sleep with me.”

She laughed but didn’t move. She only stood there. Her eyes focused on mine, her face both innocent and knowing at the same time. “You’re wrong.”

“In fact, I think you want to sleep with me right now.”

Her face pinked and her breath hitched. “What makes you say that?”

I stepped forward. “You’re still here, aren't you?”

“What?” Her expression changed in an instant, almost as if she’d woken from a dream. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and blinked. “Oh my God, what’s wrong with me?” she whispered.

She turned around, muttering something under her breath, and rushed toward the stairs.

“I was kidding!”

But she didn’t listen. She clasped the banister with both hands and proceeded to run down the steps as though someone was chasing her.

I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the back of my skull. “Way to go Eaton, you really fucked it up this time.”

Chapter SIX

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