Page 6 of Man Glitter
“I have shoes on,” I countered.
He eyed my footwear dubiously. “Yeah, I’m sure glass can’t get through those flimsy things with holes in them.”
“They don’t have holes on the sole,” I argued, then pointed at his shoes. “And it’s not like those relics from ten years ago have a lot of tread on the sole left.”
We both stood there surrounded by glass shards, eyes narrowed, arguing in the middle of the night about our shoe choices. Chester whined again. I sighed and dropped my shoulders. The guy couldn’t even get a glass of water without hurting himself. There’s no way I could go back to my place and leave him here knowing the thumb I’d injured could lead to so many other calamities.
“Fine. You win. I’ll stay here for a few days to make sure you don’t kill yourself tying your shoes.”
A huge grin was his response. “Awesome. We’ll have so much fun this week.” Like this was suddenly summer camp, and we’d be best pals by the end.
I shook my head, pretty sure nothing about the next few days would be fun.
“A few days,” I corrected him.
“A week,” he whispered in my ear as he stepped clear of the glass shards and left the kitchen to stand by Chester. “Thank you for cleaning that up. Oh, and I wear slip-ons predominantly, so don’t worry about me tying my shoes and dying anytime soon.”
I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes to silently count to ten. A few days or a week. All of it would be straight torture. When I had my anger and disbelief at the abrupt change of events in my life on lockdown, I bent down to pick up the largest shards of glass. Tossing them in the trash, I headed to the coat closet I saw when I came in the door. An old Hoover vacuum stood at attention, the brown vacuum bag overfilled with dust bunnies escaping. I took another deep breath and refrained from rolling my eyes. Once I had the vacuum bag cleaned out into the trash can, I plugged it in and made sure all the glass was picked up.
“Here you go, Sunshine.” Charlie stood by the hideous floral couch with a stack of linens and that damn smile I wanted to wipe from his face. Chester was right behind him, a golden shadow.
“It’s Finnie,” I snapped.
His smile didn’t falter. “I know, but Sunshine just seems to fit you so much better. Don’t you think?”
I did roll my eyes then. “Listen. We need to get a few things straight. I’ll help you with the necessities around here, but I’m not a maid. In fact, I have a very important meeting with the mayor this week to prepare for. That will have to be my priority, got it?”
Charlie nodded and Chester whined.
“Well, good night then. See you in the morning.” Charlie left the room, his muscles flexing as he went, his dog by his side.
It would be a long, confusing week stuck here.
Because even though he drove me crazy, Charlie was also hot as hell.
4
Finnie
The walls were singing to me like I was trapped in some twisted animated movie and the beast would soon sweep into the room and twirl me around a fancy ballroom. Instead, I got a wet tongue scraping the back of my hand, jarring me from the bizarre dreams I’d had all night long while tossing and turning on the couch that had seen better days.
I blinked my eyes and groaned. Chester sat next to the couch, his sweet brown eyes staring me down, panting that horrible dog breath right in my face.
“Chester…” I whined, reaching up to scratch behind his ears.
Then froze when the singing started again. This time it wasn’t the walls. It was coming from down the hallway.
“Sweet Finnie-girl, duh, duh, duh, my nurse extraordinaire come fetch me my pants. Oh please, sweet Finnie…”
I admit, I wasn’t at my best before a cup of coffee in the morning, but after a rough night of sleep in a strange place with an even stranger man singing to me at the top of his lungs like I was his personal servant was just downright maddening.
I flung off the blankets and scrambled to my feet. Chester whined and backed away, sensing the storm cloud brewing. While I padded down the hall, he followed, his nails clicking on the laminate flooring. At the doorway to Charlie’s room, I skidded to a stop, every drop of heated blood going up in flames for a different reason.
Charlie laid out on his back in bed, the sheets a rumpled mess around him. His black boxers barely contained the body parts it was designed to cover, or maybe it was that his body parts were too large to be contained. Who knew? But that wasn’t all. His muscular legs were that of a sprinter, defined yet bulky with a power I suddenly needed to be witness to. Even his feet were attractive and I didn’t say that lightly. I now understood where foot fetishes came from. The ripped torso I’d perved over last night was back in action, no man glitter this morning as Charlie ran his hand up his six-pack abs and placed his palm over his heart, but just as distracting.
“Sweet, Finnie-girl…”he sang again to the tune of Sweet Caroline.
I grimaced and plugged my ears, snapping out of whatever trance his body had me in.
