Page 27 of Handle Me

I followed behind her, enjoying the view as she swayed her hips. Did she realize she was doing it or was it a simple holdover from some prehistoric time when females shook their rears as a mating call? I wasn’t sure, but I definitely felt the urge to throw her over my shoulder and answer.

“You probably won’t find much,” I warned her as she began opening cabinets, looking for an appropriate vessel for the bouquet.

“Don’t you eat?” she asked.

“At the pub or my mum’s.”

She snorted as if this explained something. “I guess you usually take flowers to your dates at their houses.” She gave up and closed the cabinet. “We can leave them in the sink.”

“I don’t usually take women flowers,” I said.

“Never? I thought you were proving me wrong.”

“I don’t have much time to date. I’m on the road a lot,” I reminded her.

“Oh, I thought…”

“What?” I asked, leaning back as she reached for the faucet and began filling the sink with water.

“There was some lipstick and stuff in the loo. I thought they were from an old girlfriend.”

“Do you think I bring a woman home and tell her to sleep in another room?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe I needed to show Lola exactly what I did to the women I brought home. The trouble was that she’d brought herself here. Not the other way around.

“I don’t know,” she said defensively.

“Boss, when I bring a woman home, I take her straight to bed until morning.” Let her think what she wanted about that.

“I just thought maybe you liked to sleep alone.” She lifted one petite shoulder.

“Sleep is for times when there isn’t a beautiful woman in bed with you.” My response earned me a small gasp. It reminded me of how she’d sounded when she came this morning.

“Well, someone left their shit in your bathroom,” she said stiffly after a long pause.

It took me a second to realize what shit she was talking about. “My mum stayed here after my accident to help me get back on my feet. It’s probably her stuff.”

“That makes sense.” Lola didn’t turn to look at me. She just arranged the roses in the sink quietly. “You two are pretty close, huh?”

“Yeah,” I grunted. It felt weird to talk about my mother with her. Yet more proof that this wasn’t a real date. I’d never discuss my mum on a first date. In fact, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever brought her up with a woman.

This was the problem with having Lola here acting like lady of the goddamn manor. She was prying into my business. She’d already gotten rid of half of my shit. Hell, she’d woken up in my bed this morning! I was about to let her know that some lines needed to stay firmly in place if this was going to stay a no-touching relationship when she sighed.

“That’s nice.”

“Sorry, what?”

“You and your mother. Mine can be a bit much,” she explained, tossing a grin over her shoulder. “Pray you never meet her.”

“She can’t be that bad.” Now we were talking about her mother? Yeah, this was clearly not a date. Or it was the worst first date ever.

“She told me only call girls shave their legs before business dates,” she informed me dryly.

“Was it that kind of business?” I asked before I could help myself.

Lola turned and flicked water at me. “She called today while I was getting ready. I couldn’t get her off the phone.”

Two things occurred to me simultaneously. Her phone call with her mum was the reason she’d taken so long to get ready. Not because she was trying to impress me. But the other seemed to completely negate the first thing. “You shaved your legs for our date?”

“Ugh!” She groaned and turned back to her sink of flowers. “Now you sound like her!”