Page 30 of Sunny Undone

“I refuse to believe you’re not an expert in everything. You’ve got an unholy number of degrees.”

She nods. “I do. But none of them are in…this.” Della gestures between the two of us.

“This?”

Her eyes meet mine. Expectant and nervous in equal measure. “This flirtation. Casual attraction. Whatever you call it.”

I lean closer. “I think of it as fucking someone you’d like to fuck without there being any strings attached—simply because you want to.”

Something changes in her expression. Not confidence, not yet, at least. But relief, maybe.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to be someone indispensable. The smart one. The reliable one. The person people go to for life advice.” She smiles without humor. “Men generally like talking to me until their eyes drift away because a better-looking woman has walked into the room.”

“That’s ridiculous. Let’s go.” I take her hand and lead her down the hallway toward my room. We pass photographs of old rallies and patched cuts hanging in frames, away from the worst of the noise that swallows the clubhouse whole on a night like this.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going on Operation Boost Della’s Self-Esteem.” I unlock the door to my room.

“Why is what I said ridiculous?” she asks.

“Because we all know men are as dumb as two rocks when it comes to seeing a woman for what she’s really worth.”

Della meets me on the threshold of the room. “Do you see me, Sunny?”

I’m about to say something glib and offhand to the question, but I catch the look on her face before I speak. “Yeah, Della. I see you.”

“You’ve known me for two days.”

I nod. “I know.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know you’re terrifyingly clever. And brave, or you wouldn’t be standing up for what you believe in. You’re funny when you don’t mean to be. And when someone asks you about your precious wetlands, your face lights up like a firecracker. Most people have less passion for anything in life than you have in your little finger.”

“My face does not change,” she says. “That’s a metaphor, like when someone says their smile lit up a room. Like, unless you got a massive set of uber-white chompers, there is no light coming out of your mouth.”

I stroke a knuckle down her cheek. “It does, and it’s real pretty.”

A warm flush of heat turns her cheeks the lightest shade of pink. “I thought someone like you would only be interested in women who looked like…” She gestures vaguely in the direction of the party.

“I mean, they’re beautiful, but right now, you have my whole attention.” I glance over to my bed. “So, Indy, what do you say. Are you gonna let me raid your ark?”

Her face holds for two seconds, and then she bursts out laughing like I intended, because step one is to get this woman to relax. Then, she shocks the shit out of me by pressing her forehead to my chest and wrapping her hands around me in a hug.

I nudge us two steps to the right so I can let the door drift shut, then put my arms around her. The noise level suddenly quiets. Her shoulders drop away from her ears. Stroking her back, I press a kiss to the top of her head. She fits against me in a way that feels strangely natural and familiar.

I came in here expecting to make her laugh, maybe steal a kiss, maybe convince the uptight assistant professor to do one reckless thing before she disappeared back to whatever university had been lucky enough to hire her. But I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting to hold a woman who melts into my chest like she’s finally found somewhere quiet enough to just feel comfortable being herself.

And it does something good to me, knowing I’m the man who can do that for her. Even if it’s only for the next few hours.

“Better?” I murmur, stroking her hair.

She nods against me. “Much.”

I rub a hand up and down her back. “Then we’ll stay here for a minute.”

She looks up at me. “You’re surprisingly patient.”