Page 32 of Floored (Frenched 3)
In less than half an hour, we finished the job and stood next to each other beside a huge scrap pile in the center of the room. “Do you have a dumpster coming?” Charlie asked, pulling his gloves off.
“Yes, on Friday. I wouldn’t have thought of it, but Nick did.”
“Who’s Nick? Another pretend boyfriend?” He bumped me with his hip.
“Haha. No, he’s the fiancé of my friend Coco. The one you met at my house the night of the burglary. They’re actually getting married next month.”
“Right. Dark hair. Big…” He grinned sideways at me. “Smile.”
“Come on, you can say it. Boobs. You noticed her boobs, everyone does.” Turning away under the guise of gathering up the tools, I tried to ignore the zing of jealousy that shot through me. Not even the pushiest of push-up bras would give me the kind of luscious curves Coco had up top.
“Well, I was gonna say tits, but actually I think I’ll stick with smile.”
“Why? Don’t tell me you’re not fascinated by big boobs. All men are.”
“Not true.” Charlie tossed his gloves and hammer into his toolbox before kicking it shut. “I don’t have anything against them, but I don’t have a preference for them either. I think yours are perfect, so you don’t have to get all annoyed with me.”
“I wasn’t getting annoyed.” I was, but his compliment took the edge off. “Just stating a fact: Coco has big yummy breasts.”
“You’ve tasted them? Because I am fascinated by that.”
I gave him a flat look. “I meant, she has voluptuous curves that most men drool over and up-and-down girls like me envy.”
“I know plenty of women who would envy your cute little ass too, so it goes both ways.”
He thinks my small ass is cute. “Thanks. I guess it does.”
“I’m surprised they agreed to bring a dumpster here the day after Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, yeah. Nick called in a favor. Some kind of Italian thing.”
He nodded. “That explains it. Are we done here?”
We were, although I almost wished I hadn’t insisted on finishing tonight. When would I see him again? In that moment I found myself wishing a few things, actually—I wished he weren’t so handsome and funny. I wished we weren’t so different. I wished we didn’t have the spark. I wished I had the nerve to say fuck compatibility—you and I could be good together. Tell me your secrets. I’ll tell you mine. Let’s take a chance.
But I held my tongue and nodded.
After I locked up the studio, Charlie walked me to my car. It felt as if the temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees in the last few hours, and I shivered. “Brrr. Is it supposed to snow tonight?”
“I think so. Roads will probably be bad tomorrow.”
“You working?”
“Just half a day. I’m not traffic, though.”
“Will you get Thanksgiving dinner somewhere?” I wrapped my arms around myself, hopping from one foot to the other to keep warm.
He shrugged. “Somewhere. I have to go see my granddad. Maybe we’ll go out.”
On the tip of my tongue was an invitation to come to my mother’s house, but I thought I better not. Family holidays were probably reserved for compatible people. “Well. Thanks for helping me,” I said, my breath frosting the air.
“You’re welcome.” Charlie pointed his nose at my
car. “Go on, get in. It’s cold.”
Seriously? Not even a hug? Sheesh, he really was afraid of sending the wrong message. Taking a page from his book, I decided to mess with him a little. Rising on tiptoe, I threw my arms around him, tight, pressing my chest and stomach against his. “I mean it. I’m really grateful for what you did.”
He gave me a quick squeeze around the middle and let go, but I didn’t.
