All You Can Handle (Moments In Maplesville Book 5) (7 page)

“I didn’t want to block you out.”

“It’s your driveway, too, Sonny. You pay rent here, remember?”

“Well, it’s a moot point. This is the last of it,” she said, gesturing to the car.

Ian hadn’t prepared himself for the wave of erotic memories that pummeled him when he peered inside the VW Bug. He would never be able to look at this car without his mind immediately recalling the intense pleasure he’d experienced while crammed into its tiny space. He looked over at Sonny and knew she was thinking about last time they had been in the car together, too. Recalling the things they’d done to each other in the passenger seat.

Ian caught her gaze and held it, refusing to look away.

He deserved just this much, didn’t he? To stand here and remember it. Every sound, every smell, every sensual slide of his body inside of hers. If all he’d ever have from that night were the memories, let him have them standing there next to the car where those memories were made. Standing there with the woman who’d provided his body with such bone-deep pleasure.

Sonny was the first to look away, but Ian didn’t miss the way her chest expanded with the deep breath she inhaled. Yeah, thinking about that night left him breathless, too.

“We should get these inside,” she said.

She grabbed a backpack from the backseat and hoisted it over her shoulder. Then she lifted a plastic milk crate filled with honest-to-goodness vinyl albums from the floor of the passenger side.

Ian motioned for her to go ahead of him up the driveway. He realized his folly once they started up the garage’s wooden steps. By the time they reached the landing he was uncomfortably hard behind his zipper, the effects of staring at her perfectly round ass as she climbed the stairs ahead of him.

There would be no hot, soothing bath in his immediate future. Tonight he was taking the coldest shower ever.

As he set the box on the end table where she directed him, Ian looked around the apartment, shocked at how different it looked in just the two days since she’d been there. The normal sea of browns and beiges were now awash in a brilliant display of warm reds, cool blues and bright yellows. Curtains covered the windows that looked out over the backyard and at least a half-dozen African print pillows cluttered the sofa. Equally colorful throw rugs littered the tiled floors.

He walked over to the far wall that was now decorated with three framed posters from the Brooklyn AfroPunk Music Festival. Ian had no idea what AfroPunk was but based on the images on the posters, it suited Sonny.

“It looks…different in here,” he said.

“I hope you don’t mind. I needed to be comfortable so I added a little bit of me.”

“I don’t mind.” He peered over his shoulder and caught her gaze. “I like little bits of you.”

Once again, she was the first to look away. She picked up the carton of albums and moved them over to the small table in the corner where she’d set up a record player. A real one, with a needle and everything.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of these,” Ian said, walking over to the table.

“I collect old albums—another of those things I find in thrift shops. This turntable only looks old school, though. It’s equipped with a USB port so that I can transfer the albums to my laptop or even to my phone.”

Ian leaned forward, pretending to be interested in the record player when in reality he just wanted to be closer to her. He could smell that hint of spice from whatever scent she wore. He’d noticed it from the moment she walked up to him at The Corral Monday night, and it had haunted him ever since.

“What is that?” Ian asked.

She looked at him over her shoulder. “What?”

“That scent?
Your
scent.”

Her eyes dropped to his lips. “It’s, uh, amber. Amber and cloves. It’s a mix of essential oils.” She eased out of the cove he’d created with his body and the turntable, and walked over to the sofa.

“So,” she said, needlessly straightening pillows. “It was a shock to see you at Trey Watson’s place today. With that suit you were wearing Monday night, I assumed you were a businessman of some sort. How long have you been working there?”

“I started with him about six months ago, right before Thanksgiving.”

She nodded and folded her arms across her chest. “It must be a nice gig,” she said. “I mean, it has to be for you to be able to afford a house of this size at your age, right. You can’t be more than what? Twenty-five?”

“Twenty-six,” he said.

Her brows rose. “Hmm…”

Ian’s eyes narrowed as he sensed her discomfort building. She picked up a throw pillow and ran the tasseled edges through her fingers. Then she tossed it back onto the sofa.

“Okay, I was trying to be subtle about this, but you suck at taking hints.”

“Sonny, what are you getting at?”

She released a deep sigh. “Just tell me that I won’t get kidnapped in the middle of the night by some drug cartel looking for their money,” she said.

Ian’s eyes widened before he burst out laughing. He clutched his stomach, sucking in several breaths before he could speak. “You think I’m a drug dealer?”

“Well, how do you afford a house like this working as a part-time mechanic?”

“Maybe I’m drowning in debt.”

“Are you?”

He laughed again, his shoulders shaking with it. “No, I’m not drowning in debt and I don’t sell drugs. In fact, I have never in my life so much as taken a single puff on a cigarette. Do you think I would really put my little sister in that kind of danger?”

“No,” she said, looking chagrinned. “But it still begs the question—”

“It’s a family home,” Ian said, cutting her off. “Technically, it’s still my mother’s. It’s in her name. It’ll eventually go to Kimmie.”

Her shoulders sank in visible relief. “Thank God. You have no idea how much this has been driving me crazy since you walked into that break room at Trey Watson’s shop,” she said. “Every crazy scenario you could think of has crossed my mind.”

“You may want to lay off the
Law & Order
marathon-watching.”

She poked out her tongue. “Shows how much you know. I’m a
NCIS
kind of girl.”

“Same thing.” Ian moved to where she stood. “As I mentioned at the shop earlier today, I work at Trey’s part time. My real job is building scaffolding at the oil refinery over in St. Pierre, about a half hour east of here. I work shiftwork, so when I’m on nights—which I am right now—I’ll put in a few hours over at Trey’s. I switch back to the day shift tomorrow.”

“So, what do you do with Kimmie when you’re working the night shift?”

“She stays at her friend, Anesha’s. She’s just a couple of houses down the street.”

Sonny nodded. “Well, now that I’m here, I’ll be happy to keep an eye on her. That is, if she’s okay with it.”

“She’s only known you for two days and she already worships the ground you walk on. I think she’d be okay with that. Thanks for offering.”

She shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Kimmie’s a sweetheart.”

Moving over to where she stood, Ian perched a hip on the back of the sofa. “It is kinda crazy that we’re working for Trey and Kiera, isn’t it? They just got married this past New Year’s Day.”

She nodded.

“With what happened at The Corral on Monday, and you showing up yesterday to rent this place, it almost seems as if the universe is determined to get us together.”

“It would seem so,” she said.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth again, and Ian’s blood began to heat. He licked his lips. Taking another step forward, his voice lowered as he said, “Makes me wonder if it even makes sense to fight it.”

Her eyes remained on his lips. “Probably not.”

The screech of the school bus’s breaks grinding to a halt in front of the house broke the spell between them. Sonny jumped back.

“That must be Kimmie,” she said.

Shit
. Ian released a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Ian!” He could hear Kimmie’s glass-cracking scream from outside. “I won first place!”

He gestured to the front windows. “The science fair was today.”

“Sounds as if you have a reason to celebrate tonight,” Sonny said.

“I was prepared to celebrate even if she came in last place. She worked hard on the project.” He hooked a thumb toward the stairs. “I should get down there.”

She nodded.

He started down the stairs, but stopped when she called his name.

“Ian?” He turned to find Sonny at the top of the stairs. “Thanks for helping with the box,” she said.

“Anytime,” Ian said. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

Then he continued down the stairs, while he was still able to make himself go.

Chapter Four

Ian glided his forefinger along the computer’s touchpad as he scrolled through the two-hundred-plus pre-formatted business card designs under the Automotive and Transportation heading. Was it presumptuous that he was already looking for letterhead even though he had yet to hear back from the bank? Maybe. But as a former Boy Scout, he still adhered to the ‘be prepared’ motto. He wanted as much in place as possible when it was time to get his bike shop off the ground.

It had been a week since his meeting with Mr. Babineaux. Ian could feel the call coming. Any day now, his phone would ring. It
had
to. He was running out of time.

Ian pulled his phone from his front pocket and read over the text message Vanessa sent late yesterday evening.

Met with the Miller Family today. They seem close to agreeing on a sale price. Around $400K.

Vanessa had given him a head’s up on the amount she’d advised the family to list the building, so that he wouldn’t lowball the amount on his loan application. She’d promised to let him know as soon as the property hit the market. He’d have to have Dale ask her about her favorite wine. She deserved a special treat for the way she’d gone above and beyond to help him secure his dream.

Ian minimized the window with the business card designs and went back to searching for Kimmie’s birthday present. He’d bought the Go Pro video camera and the new iPhone she’d been clamoring for since Christmas several weeks ago. Both were in the safe where he kept his important papers and extra cash, tucked in the back of his closet.

Picking out the phone had been the easy part. Finding the perfect phone case had turned into the biggest pain in his ass. He’d automatically gone for a Disney Princess, but he soon realized that as a thirteen-year-old, Kimmie may think she was too old for princesses.

The thought made Ian’s stomach twist. He wasn’t ready for her to be too old for princesses.

He’d searched through dozens of flower prints, skulls and crossbones, glittery ones covered in fake gemstones. How was he supposed to know what kind of phone cover to buy a thirteen-year-old girl?

You could ask Sonny.

No. No he could not ask Sonny. He’d taken an oath to avoid all possible contact with his tenant. Her nearness, even in the most innocuous circumstances, was too much of a temptation.

Why had he insisted on this hands-off thing again?

It had seemed like the adult thing to do at the time. He needed to be a good role model for Kimmie. What kind of example would it set for his sister if she caught him sneaking out of the garage apartment in the middle of the night?

Nevertheless, Ian was getting some serious pressure from his libido to say to hell with being a good role model, especially when he thought about the potential block of uninterrupted hours with Sonny’s naked body stretching ahead of him.

But the off chance of Kimmie catching him and Sonny in a compromising position was just one reason sleeping with his boarder again wasn’t the wisest idea. If he and Sonny started something up, how awkward would things turn when he had to collect rent from her at the end of the month? Could he really accept money from a woman he was sleeping with?

Yet, if they started sleeping together and he refused to take rent money from her, then it would seem as if he was paying her for services rendered by allowing her to live in the apartment for free.

Shit
. He was finding complications and nothing had even happened yet.

Hearing the squeak of Kimmie’s bedroom door hinge knocked Ian out of his internal debate, and reminded him that he needed to hit those hinges with some WD-40. He quickly minimized the webpage with the iPhone cases. Seconds later he heard Kimmie pounding down the stairs.

She rounded the half wall separating the computer nook from the rest of the family room and hooked an arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, Ian, you know Anesha’s older sister, Tamika, right? Well, she’s home from college and she brought all kinds of videos from their homecoming party. Can I go over there and watch?”

Ian peered up at her. “Are these college party videos R-rated?”

“Noooo,” she answered with the requisite eye roll. “It’s a video of the step show between the college sororities and fraternities. Tamika’s sorority won first place. I’m going to join a sorority when I go to college, but I’m not sure I’m going to join Tamika’s. I like the one with the pink and green colors. I don’t know if they are as good in the step shows, but I don’t care. So, can I go watch the videos?”

She’d lost him at
college
. Ian was on the verge of hyperventilating whenever he thought about her becoming a teenager in a few weeks. He couldn’t handle thoughts of college.

“Be back by six,” Ian said.

“
Siiiix
?” She dragged the word out by four syllables. “But Anesha’s mom is making lasagna tonight.”

“If that’s the case, ask her to send me a plate,” Ian said. “But I still want you home no later than seven thirty. Mrs. Linh sent an e-mail about tomorrow’s social studies test. You need to make sure you’re prepared.”

That got him another eye roll as she slipped on the high-top Converse she’d brought down from her room.

The moment Kimmie was out of the house, Ian opened up yet another screen he’d minimized earlier, the Google search he’d been doing on birthday parties for thirteen-year-olds. The quest to find a phone case was nothing compared to the nightmare of planning a birthday party.