Page 31 of Remembering You
8
After dinner, Jim pulled up in front of my cabin and turned the car off. Then, getting out, he circled around to my side and just like he always did, helped me out of the passenger side with my crutches. Even though I didn’t need his help getting out of the car, it was sort of nice being taken care of by him. Though, I didn’t know if I would have liked it with anyone else but Jim.
We approached my front door and I unlocked the door, looking up at Jim expectantly. This was it, right? He was bound to kiss me again. He had kissed me hours before our date… it would be crazy for him not to now… when I was fully expecting it and when it was acceptable.
He smiled down at me, propping my door open with his foot. “I had a nice night.”
“I did, too. I kind of wish it wasn’t over yet,” I admitted.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I suppose it doesn’t have to be.” His eyes flicked inside. “You got coffee in there, right?”
“You should know… you bought it for me.”
“Okay, then. All you have to do is ask.”
A sudden wave of shyness washed over my body. Why was I so nervous? He literally just told me to ask him in. It’s not like I don’t know what the answer will be. My lungs expanded with my deep breath before I asked, “Would you like to come in for coffee?”
His grin widened. “I’d love to.”
Even though it had been less than a week since the first night he’d slept over here, this felt like uncharted territory. Yes, I had been attracted to him last Sunday, but I’d been certain he was off-limits. And not attracted to me. Now? Everything was different. How was I supposed to act? Was I supposed to flirt with him?
Jim entered my cabin, closing the door and locking it behind us. He seemed so at home in my house. I guess he sort of was—having stayed here and built the whole thing with his crew. He crossed into the kitchen and made use of the coffee maker, pouring grounds into the filter and filling the tank with water while I set my crutches down and leaned against the kitchen counter. There was no good way to be sexy while on crutches, that was for damn sure.
Never in my life had I ever been so painfully aware of my sexual inexpertise as I was right now. Jim screamed sex. Everything from his veined, strong biceps to the narrow line of his hips to the way his lips pushed into a full, sexy pout. Unlike me, this guy was definitely not a virgin. And my body ached for him. I wanted him to take my innocence. I wanted him to corrupt me in all the best ways and show me how good my body could feel.
But first… I needed to try to flirt. Make it known that I want him to come onto me.
Okay, breathe, Marty. Elsa mentioned playing with my hair. She said that it was a way of seeming sexy and sweet and it would make him think of tugging on my hair himself… Or something like that. I pinched a bit of my hair between my fingers and twirled it around my fingers as he turned to talk to me.
“Are you nervous to start classes next week?” Jim asked as he pushed the button to start the coffee.
“A little. But mostly I’m excited. Though I’ll miss working in your office Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.” I tried to lower my voice… altering it to sound huskier… sexier. Another Elsa tip.
His brows furrowed. “You feeling okay?”
I bit my bottom lip and nodded.
“You sound hoarse. Are you coming down with something?”
He pressed his palm to my forehead, feeling for a fever.
Well, crap. This wasn’t going to plan. I cleared my throat and tried again. “No, I feel fine. I am a little warm, though.” I slipped my cardigan off my shoulders, leaving me in the halter top dress I wore beneath it. Goosebumps rose on my flesh and his scowl deepened.
“You’re warm? Marty, it’s freezing in here. Are you sure you’re not sick?”
He was right. It was freaking freezing in this cabin, even with the heat on. The artist residency center sets the temperatures for all the units and they solidly kept the temperature at 63 degrees… no doubt to save money on heating all these houses. Plus, we could keep the place warmer with our fireplaces, if we chose to. But being from the south, I had no idea how to start a fire. And even if I did, with my ankle, I couldn’t lug firewood inside.
But dammit… Jim was ruining my plan to seduce him with his consideration.
“I’m positive I’m not sick,” I said, firmly.
“Okay…” He grabbed two mugs from my cupboard and poured the coffee into each. He held out the first full mug to me to take and as I reached for it, the finger I’d been twirling in my hair got caught in a twisted knot against the band of my ring. I grunted, trying to untangle my finger from my hair.
“Here,” Jim said. “Let me help you. It’s caught on your ring.”
I threw out my free hand, letting it fall to the counter with a satisfying smack. “This is not how this was supposed to go.”
He stared, concentrating on my hair, untangling it from my ring in only a matter of seconds. “There,” he said. “Wait… what do you mean? Not how what was supposed to go?”
