Authors: Tina Bass
Shaking her head, she walked back to the sink. “It’s not that hot.” She stuck her hands in the water and started washing the plates. “You need to get that water up, Mr. Clean, before someone slips.” She turned back to finish what she was doing.
He stood there for a second before he even moved, using paper towels to swipe across the floor. “I’ll rinse.” She felt the water that was running, reached out and turned the hot off, waited a second and felt the water again, then handed him a plate. “Fuck,” he hissed when his hand hit the running water. “Freeze or burn, there is just no middle with you, huh?”
“Hot water kills germs; cold water keeps germs off if you air dry,” she informed him. “How did you learn to cook, if you don’t even know how to wash a dish correctly?” She had to admit he most definitely could cook, if what he fixed tonight was anything to go by.
“Dishwasher,” he mumbled.
When she handed him the last dish, she moved to wipe off the stove, then the table. Picking up the DVD, she thought she should really leave, but she had wanted to see this movie ever since she had first seen the preview months ago, before it was even at the theaters.
“All done.” She heard and turned to look back at Draco, who was leaning back against the counter, ankles crossed, thick solid thighs stretching the material of his jeans, muscled arms folded over his wide chest, just looking so freakin’ sexy, and damn it, did he have to add the grin too?
She put the dish cloth back. When she got a closer view of his tattoo, without even thinking first—because if she was thinking at all she would never be in a cop’s house to begin with—she reached out and pushed the sleeve up to see the whole tattoo. It looked like a wide black band with three parts splinting off in different directions. Again, without thinking, she rubbed her finger lightly across it, then traced each part that splinted off from the original and looked up at him to see him watching her fingers move. She looked back down at the tattoo. “What’s it mean?” she asked huskily, then cleared her throat. “I mean, to you, not in general.” She clarified, and then dropped her hand away.
She liked the feel of his skin way too much, so just to be on the safe side, she took a step back. “Yeah, like there is a safe side anywhere around him,” she murmured, then caught his eyes and there was humor and something else, something she had never seen on a man’s face before.
“Maybe we should start the movie,” he said abruptly, then moved quickly past her, so fast that if she had been even an inch closer, he would have knocked her down.
By the time she turned around and took a step, he was already in the living room putting the DVD in and grabbing the remote. “Wait!” she said as she hurried into the living room.
He stopped on his way to the sofa and turned only his head to look at her.
“Snacks,” she said and again got that ‘you’re crazy look’ from him.
“What?”
“You can’t watch a good movie, well, any movie, but especially a good movie, without snacks.”
“Snacks?” he repeated.
“Uh, yeah, Brawny Man. You have heard of snacks before, haven’t you?” she asked back.
Please tell me he eats some kind of junk food every once in a while.
“You just ate,” he stated.
“Yeah?”
“Aren’t you full yet?”
What
? He did not just say that. “Are you saying I’ll get fat? Or are you saying I am fat?” she inquired with one hand on her hip, meant to emphasize that he best think twice before he answered.
“No!” he squeaked, right before she heard him—very loudly—clear his throat. “No, I just meant if you were still hungry you could have had some more, it’s plenty left over.” He corrected quickly.
“No, I’m not hungry, how much do you think I eat?” She didn’t wait for an answer before adding, “Besides, it’s not really eating, it’s like…snacking.”
He just stood there and kept staring at her. “Snacks,” he finally repeated.
“Yes.”
“Okay. What
snacks
go with a good movie?” he asked, but it came out sounding like he was thinking,
just humor the crazy person.
It took her a moment to realize he was serious. She shook her head at the thought of anyone
not
knowing about ‘movie snacks.’ “Uh, the usual, popcorn, M&M’s, plain, not all that new crap they’re now doing with what used to be a simple candy. Oh, and Reese’s pieces,” she told him and yet again got that ‘crazy look’ from him when she said nothing else and just stood there staring at him.
“I don’t think I have any of that,” he finally admitted, sounding apologetic.
“Oh,” she said and tried to keep the hint of disappointment out of her voice.
“I can go get some,” he added quickly.
“No, no, that’s okay.” She sighed as she walked over to the sofa and flopped down.
“No, really, it’s not a big deal. There’s a store just down the block and it will only take me a second to run there and back.” He almost pleaded.
“You don’t mind? Because, really, I guess I could watch
one
movie without snacks,” she said sadly, but honestly. Why was she trying to appease this cop?
Remember he is a cop!
She reminded herself for like the umpteenth time.
“No, really, I don’t mind. Make yourself at home, and I’ll be right back with snacks.” He reassured her as he was moving toward the front door and punching in a code on the box beside it.
“Make sure it’s microwaveable, extra butter popcorn,” she yelled just as he was walking through the door. Then he was gone.
She stood for a second staring at the now closed door when her eyes caught the keys hanging next to the door.
Are those his car keys
? “Was he serious about the running part?” she asked herself. “No, he couldn’t be.”
Shaking that thought away, she turned back to look at the sofa. It was one of those huge overstuffed ones that would be really comfortable if it wasn’t that leather-like material. “He did say make yourself at home.” She reminded herself. So, grabbing the blanket that was on the back of the sofa, she did just that.
* * *
Draco was standing in line, waiting to check out, making sure he had everything. M&Ms plain, Reese’s pieces, extra butter microwavable popcorn, and he picked up a pack of Mountain Dew—bottles, not cans—because she had drunk the last one. Actually the only one, being that he didn’t drink it, so one of the guys must have brought it over the last time they played poker or was it shooting pool? He wasn’t sure, but he was glad he had had it, since it was her favorite.
He looked at the items again to double check he got everything when it hit him. “What the fuck!” he muttered, maybe a little too loudly, as the older woman in front of him turned around and gave him, ‘the look’ of complete disapproval.
Yeah, screw you, lady, I just literally ran almost a block down the street for shit I don’t even eat so I could have fuckin’ ‘snacks’ for a bitc—
he thought, then caught himself, before he referred to Bree as a bitch. She was not that. She was funny and cute and sweet and sexy as hell.
Damn, when she was rubbing her fingers across his tat, he was getting hard.
Fuck!
Just from a woman touching the skin on his arm while she was fully dressed. Yeah, he had to get her the hell out of his house, and fast.
Just as soon as the movie’s over she’s got to go.
He checked his items one last time as he laid them down at the register and turned back to the candy rack. He grabbed a pack of peanut butter cups, Hershey’s Kisses, gum, mints, and some kind of fruit chew things and added them to his purchases.
Just in case
.
“Will this be all?” the cashier asked, and he froze. He looked down at the bags she had already put his stuff in, like he could see through them if he looked hard enough. Was that all? He tried to think if there was anything else she might want. Was that all she said?
“Think, man! Think!” He scolded himself.
“Sir?” He heard the cashier and jerked his head up to her.
“Yeah,” he said, then paid for his shit, grabbed the bags and got the hell outta there just as fast as he could.
Insane man, fuckin’ insane,
he repeated to himself all the way home.
When he reached his door he paused, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly.
Just as soon as the movie is over, she’ll be gone.
He reminded himself, then just to be sure, he repeated it again and ignored that slight ping in his chest. “Indigestion,” he said aloud and walked through the door, then missed a step and stumbled, fumbling the bags in his hand.
What the hell did she do
? The coffee table was moved to the other side of the room; in the middle of the floor was the blanket he kept on the back of the sofa. Pillows from the guestroom were on the floor, propped up against the sofa, and the only light was from the kitchen and his floor lamp, which was now moved to the hall and was sitting right in the middle of the floor.
“Hey, you’re back.” He turned his head from the living room toward the kitchen where she stood smiling back at him. “I hope you don’t mind,” she started as she waved a hand to indicate the living room. “I promise I’ll put everything back exactly the way it was after the movie.” But when he didn’t say anything, just stood there staring at her, the smile that she was aiming at him started to fade. “Or I can do it now, if you want,” she spoke quietly as she averted her eyes from him and pulled her bottom lip in. And fuck, she could have kicked him in the balls, and he would have felt better than to see her looking…sad? Unsure? He wasn’t quite sure which emotion, but the one thing he was sure about was that he was the cause, and he had to change that pretty damn quick.
“No! No, it’s fine! Great even! Perfect.” He walked toward her, holding out the bags. “Snacks.” He shoved the bags toward her and watched that smile grow again. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“Great! Do you have a big bowl?” She took the bags from him and walked to the table sitting the bags on top.
“A big bowl?” he asked and even to himself, he knew he sounded like an idiot.
She just looked over at him and smiled that damn smile. “Yeah, for the snacks. It has to be pretty big but not really huge, huge.” She talked as she was pulling stuff out of the bags.
“Yeah, I got a couple.” He walked over to get her the type of bowl she wanted.
When she turned around she had a bag of popcorn ready for the microwave. She grabbed the bowl from his hand and held out the popcorn. “Here, pop this.” She turned back to the shit she had now spread out all over his table.
He looked down at the popcorn bag in his hand and then back at the microwave. “How?” he asked, baffled.
“What?” she responded to him, but didn’t turn around to look.
“How do I…pop this?” he inquired again, waving the bag back and forth.
She turned around and looked at him like he was an idiot. “You don’t know how to make popcorn?” Her voice reflected her disbelief and wonder.
“Not this kind.” He frowned.
“How do you normally fix popcorn?” She crossed to him, took the bag from his hand, and turned toward the microwave.
“Open a bag and pour it in a bowl.” That was the way he’d always done it, or if it was just him, he opened the bag and started eating.
She stopped to look at him. “Bag popcorn, like already popped and put in a bag?” She sounded as if the whole idea was a foreign concept.
“Yeah.” What else could he say?
She started shaking her head and walked the rest of the way to the microwave. “You, my poor deprived soul, are in for a treat.” She hit a button on the microwave, smiled at him, then shuffled over to the table. “You got other stuff too. Did you want me to put it away for you?” She looked up at him with her hands full.
“I just picked it up. Just in case. If you, I don’t know, changed your mind or wanted somethin’ else.” Draco stumbled and stuttered his words, finally managing to finish speaking, then shrugged his shoulders, trying to cover his idiot-ness. “I picked up some more drinks too.” He moved to grab them off the table and put them in the refrigerator. “I’ll be right back,” he said after damn near throwing the drinks, bag and all, in the refrigerator and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room again, looking around at what she had done.
He must have been standing there for some time because when he turned around she was standing right there, holding the bowl now filled with popcorn. “Here, try this.” She held a piece of popcorn to his lips and when he opened his mouth her finger just barely caressed his bottom lip, and he felt his dick twitch.
He turned and stalked to the sofa. “Can we start the damn movie now?” he asked abruptly, snatching up the remote.
“Oh…umm…okay.” He heard the uneasiness in her voice, but he couldn’t look at her, keeping his eyes glued to the TV that wasn’t even on yet. He sat down on the sofa, pointing the remote at the TV and turning it on along with the DVD player.
He knew when she moved. He knew when she sat down on the floor. He also knew she just sat there, not moving, not eating the big ass bowl of snacks that she had just had to fuckin’ have. He dropped the remote on the seat beside him, scrubbed his face in his hands, and slid his ass off the sofa onto the floor. “So you haven’t seen this movie?” he asked.