Page 5 of The Hook Up
“Definitely. I’m happy to help brainstorm.” He leaned forward in his chair again, and Ellie dropped her gaze to his chest. God, the man was ripped. What would he look like with his shirt off?
“I need to do a little more research on this one, but what about something on PAP?” he suggested.
“That’s a great idea,” Ellie said, relieved to be off the video track. “Women’s health is extremely important to the company. Maybe we could even do some sort of annual reminder.”
Ty cocked his head. “I didn’t realize that’s something you need to check every year.”
“Well, the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology changed the recommendations to every three years, but a lot of gynecologists still suggest doing it annually to be safe.”
“Wow.” He looked befuddled. “I no idea the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology weighed in on bowling.”
Ellie blinked. There was a funny buzzing sound in the back of her brain, and it occurred to her there was something strange about this conversation. “Bowling?”
“I mean, I guess it makes sense,” Ty continued, oblivious to Ellie’s alarm.“From what I’ve read, knowing your Positive Access Point—your PAP, I mean—that’s such a key part of understanding the axis your ball rolls on as it travels down the lane. I can see how getting it checked regularly can help prevent injury to?—”
“Ty?”
“Yeah?”
Ellie gripped the armrests again. Her palms had started sweating, and her tongue turned to sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. “What are you talking about?”
Ty frowned. “I’m sorry, am I pronouncing it wrong? I guess I assumed it rhymed with snap, but maybe you spell it out as P-A-P or just?—”
“We’re not talking about Pap smears?”
“What?” He blinked, horror flashing across his face. “No! I’m so sorry if I offended you. I just thought?—”
“You thought we were talking about…bowling?” Her brain did a slow rewind through the last ten minutes, replaying snippets of their conversation. “Oh, dear Lord.”
“Is there a problem?” He frowned. “You are L.E. Birmingham, right? Owner of Pin Action Bowling Supplies?”
The ground shifted beneath her, and Ellie couldn’t breathe. “I’m EllieSanders, owner of Madam Butterfly. We sell sexual aids and adult products and?—”
“Oh, Jesus.” Ty slid his hands down his face, which had gone unusually pale. He grabbed his laptop and started clicking keys, muttering softly under his breath.
“Goddamn chode-stroking jackwad…”
Ellie sat quietly, hands on her lap, while Ty produced the most creative string of expletives she’d ever heard. It made her feel better, knowing she wasn’t the only one who’d talked dirty in this meeting. On purpose, anyway.
When Ty met her eyes again, his expression was grave. “You’re Miriam’s sister-in-law,” he said slowly. “And you emailed me about coming in today.”
She nodded, not sure how their wires had gotten crossed. “That’s right.”
His throat moved as he swallowed hard. “I’m so very sorry, Mrs. Sanders.”
“Ms.,” she said without thinking. “Ms. Sanders. I’m not married. But you can call me Ellie.”
“Ellie,” he repeated. “Not L.E.”
She offered a weak little smile. “I did wonder why you were enunciating it so clearly.”
Ty stared at her, and Ellie tried not to liquefy under that dark-chocolate gaze. At last, one corner of his mouth tilted up in a funny half smile.
“So, I guess I’ll hold off on my spiel about double wood,” he said. “That’s when you leave two pins standing after the first ball, in case you’re wondering.”
Ellie gave an unladylike snort-laugh and buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe this conversation just happened.”
“I kinda wish I’d gotten it on video,” Ty said. “Again, I’m very sorry.”
