Page 95 of Just Watch Me
“We should lock the door,” he said, “and let me get my hands all over you.”
“It’sdinnertime,”she said.
He laughed, and after a moment, so did she. “You’re so bad for me,” she moaned. That was probably because he was laying her down on the couch so he could—well, get his hands all over her. And take off her clothes.
“Zane.”She pushed at him, and he pulled back. Reluctantly.
“What?” he said. “We discussed the problem. I apologized. Twice. We agreed on a better way. Job done.” She looked so pretty and mussed down there, so he gave her soft mouth a kiss. How could a man help it?
“We need a … plan,” she said, when they came up for air. She gasped it, actually. That could’ve been because his hand was under her shirt, stroking up her ribs. Nearly there.
He stopped his hand. It was a sacrifice, but a man sometimes had to make sacrifices. “OK. Let’s make a plan, then.”
She blinked those green eyes at him. Slowly. “Just like that?”
“What the lady wants,” he said, and pulled her up by the hand. “Right. Outline. Go.”
“Geez,” she said. “I see why you just charged in there and laid it out to Monica. Do you evernotjust charge forward?”
“No. I told you, it’s how I’m made. Plan?”
“Right.” She patted at her curls—hopelessly, because she was pretty disheveled by this point—pulled her shirt down, took a breath, and said, “First. Georgia.”
“Georgia,” he agreed. “Georgia what?”
“Zane.Have you talked to her about moving her?”
“Oh. No. Not yet. I was going to do it after tea.”
“Oh. Tea. I’m sorry. I interrupted. Do you need to?—”
“We’ll do this first. What about your own tea? Have you had it?”
“No. I asked Granddad to come eat with the kids tonight. Not sure he was best pleased, but?—”
“But you needed him to,” Zane said. “Our grandparents have done heaps for us, yeh. Now they want to spread their wings. Fine. But it’s not wrong to ask a favor of your whanau.”
She rubbed her temples. “You’re right. Probably. Maybe.” She sighed, then. “Do you think this may just be too complicated? I mean, what are we doing here? I never asked that first time, with Michel, so?—”
“Michel? Who the hell is Michel?”
“My professor. I didn’t tell you his name? Michel.”
“Sounds like a girl’s name.”
“It’s aFrenchname.”
“Oh. Well, I hate it. I’m also glad we beat the French in Christchurch. What does he have to do with it, though?”
“I never asked him what we were doing, that’s what. I was afraid to, like I’d pop the bubble. The bubble popped anyway, as I may have mentioned, and I hope I learn from mymistakes. What are we doing here, that we’re rearranging our lives like this? I thought it was probably just once, but you seem to want to go on with it, and I apparently do too, as stupid an idea as it probably is, so … is it an … an affair?” She grimaced. “Why am I so old-fashioned? A … situationship? Friends with benefits? I have to say, I’m not sure I can do that. I think I must actuallybeold-fashioned. If I’m sleeping with you, and seeing you in the papers at an awards night with some blonde model? No. Doesn’t work for me. And that would be bad for the kids, too. Too confusing. And yes, I know that’s how it’s done now, but?—”
She stopped. That was because he had a hand over her mouth. She glared at him, and he took the hand away. “Sorry,” he said, “but what kind of road are you driving down here? Arriving at a pretty startling destination, if you ask me. We’re doing this thing, our kids know we’re doing it, apparently, you’re over here at my house at this very moment, being …”
“Enmeshed,” she said.
“Thank you. Enmeshed with my whanau, and I’m over there being enmeshed with yours, and we’re having a situationship? What the hell is a situationship?”
“What you normally do, I imagine. Sleeping with somebody without commitment. Sleeping with them on an ongoing basis without commitment, I guess. I think that’s what it is, anyway. What do I know? I’ve only been married. Well, except for Michel.”
