Two of a Kind

Page 15

He sighed heavily. “Well, if you have to be practical.”

She laughed.

The server appeared with five glasses of wine for each of them. There was only a small amount in each. She explained about the various wines and then laid out the appetizers and left.

“Dinner’s gotten complicated,” Gideon said.

“The different wines and foods allow us to find the most pleasing combinations. Salty with sweet, spicy with acidic and so on.” She pressed her lips together. Not every conversation has to be a lecture, she reminded herself. “Sorry.”

He frowned. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I have too much information in my head. Not everyone wants to know that the phrase ‘Get your ducks in a row’ in Latin is Instrue omnes anates tuas in acie.”

He picked up the first glass. “I’ll sleep better with that information.”

“You’re just being nice.”

“Ask around, Felicia. I’m not nice.”

“Actually you are. The people in town think well of you.”

She watched him as she spoke, noting the moment he stiffened, as if finding himself in a trap.

“That compliment doesn’t make you happy?”

“No.”

His honesty surprised her. “Because you’re not capable of fitting in and if they think you do, they’ll expect too much?”

He studied her. “Got it in one. I should remember you’re familiar with the warrior psyche.”

“As much as I can be. I’m not one of those who believes that men and women have the same neurophysiology. Our brains are wired very differently, and because of that, we process information differently. But I was with the military long enough to have a working knowledge of how soldiers think and react.” She paused. “As much as one can generalize from the group to the individual.”

She put down her glass of wine and thought briefly about running. Anywhere would work, as long as it wasn’t here.

“I’m doing it again,” she murmured. “I’m nervous. That seems to make the rambling worse.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. I like the facts you share. It makes me think about my world in different ways.”

“Thank you.” She hoped he was telling the truth, because not everyone felt that way.

She thought about Denise Hendrix and how the other woman hadn’t seen her as a potential wife for either of her sons. “I believe I have a clear grasp on my personality flaws,” she told him. “Ignoring them won’t make me fit in.”

“Followed by a husband and children.”

“I’d like that, yes.” She took a sip of her wine. “Some of the scientists at the lab where I was raised had family. I remember how excited they got when a child was born or a milestone achieved. These were brilliant men who proudly talked about a baby’s first step or first word. We’re hardwired to want to procreate, to pass on our DNA. More than that, being part of a close group—a family—satisfies us emotionally. I’m sure you’ve heard about the studies that show people live longer when they have a community around them.”

“I’m not arguing your goals,” he told her. “Just how much effort you have to put into it.”

“You’re a strong, tall, good-looking man. You’d never lack for female companionship, and if you let it be known you wanted to get married, you’d have tons of women volunteering.”

He dodged the compliment by pushing the plate of bruschetta toward her. “Try it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m sure it’s delicious, and I’m not going to convince you there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.”

If only that were true, she thought sadly. “If there’s nothing wrong with me, why are you here? You’ve made it clear you’re not interested in having a romantic relationship. Therefore, you’re with me to help. If I didn’t have a problem, I wouldn’t need help.”

He groaned. “Remind me not to challenge your brain again.”

She nodded. “It’s a good rule. For what it’s worth, you’d beat me in any physical activity that required upper-body strength. I work out, but I can’t achieve the muscle mass you have.”

“Small comfort. So I can win in the caveman category.”

She smiled. “You also have a very sexy voice. I enjoy listening to your show.”

“You listen?”

“Nearly every night.”

“In bed?”

“Sometimes.” His show was late at night. Being in bed shouldn’t be a surprise.

“Naked?” he asked, his dark gaze settling on her face.

“I usually wear a T-shirt and...” Information connected. “Oh.” She realized they were flirting. She leaned toward him and lowered her eyes so she had to look at him through her lashes. “Sometimes I’m na**d.”

His expression tightened and his pupils dilated.

Sexual interest, she thought happily. Which was one of the purposes of flirting. Inciting it as well as indicating one’s own.

“Should I mention I touch myself?” she asked. “Don’t men find that arousing?”

Gideon had just taken a sip of wine. He started to choke and cough. He was able to inhale, so she didn’t offer to pound him on the back. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat.

“Better?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Was that a no on talking about masturbation?”

“It was a no,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.

“There are a lot of rules to dating. Someone should write a book.”

“I’m sure you can find one on the internet.” He waved at her. “We need to talk about something else.”

“All right.” What would be a suitable topic? “I’ve been reading some papers on using Lagrangian mechanics in the flow of crowds. I thought it might be useful for the festivals.”

He studied her for several seconds, then smiled. “I want to hear all about it.”

CHAPTER NINE

“I’M CONFUSED,” FELICIA SAID.

Consuelo picked up the packing tape and used it to seal the box. “Not about moving, right? Because this office is tiny.”

Felicia shook her head. “I’m happy to be moving into the larger office. I’m going to be more comfortable in my own space. It’s about my date with Gideon.”

Her friend paused. “What happened?”

“We went to the winery and had drinks and appetizers. We talked.” She’d told him more about her time growing up at the university and he’d... She frowned. Gideon had deflected most of her questions. She didn’t know any more about him today than she had this time last week.

“Yes? He what?”

Felicia shook her head. “I don’t know why he’s helping me. I thought it was for sex, but all he did after our date is kiss me on the cheek. Based on his physical reaction to me, I don’t think he’s lost interest. So why didn’t he want to do more?”

Consuelo shrugged. “Men are strange and fragile creatures. They pretend they’re all macho, but it’s not true. Did you ask him what was wrong?”

“No. I wanted to, but I didn’t know what to say. I felt confused.”

“Welcome to the world of dating. But you like him?”

“Yes. I enjoy the sense of anticipation I feel when I’m going to see him. He’s easy to be with and I like how being around him sexually arouses me.”

Consuelo laughed. “I just love you so much.”

Felicia knew her comment didn’t warrant her friend’s response, so she must have been inadvertently funny. Again.

“Should I not mention being aroused?”

“No, it’s not the share, it’s the language choice.”

Felicia considered that. “I like how he turns me on? I like how he’s hot?”

“Better. Do you have another date scheduled?”

“Yes. Gideon’s going with me to the Sierra Nevada Balloon Festival. Then he’s my date for Charlie and Clay’s luau. He doesn’t seem to mind spending time with me.”

“He obviously enjoys your company. That’s a good thing.”

“I know, it’s just...I’d like it better if he couldn’t control himself around me.”

Consuelo grinned. “What? Just push you to the floor and do it?”

“I’d like a little more finesse than that, but it would be better than a kiss on the cheek.”

“See, this is what guys complain about. If they want us, we call them animals and pull back. If they don’t attack us, we think they’re not interested. Men can’t win.”

“I’m not being deliberately difficult,” Felicia told her. “I just wish there’d been more.” She’d wanted to make love with Gideon. She’d wanted him in her bed. Not just for the orgasms, but because she liked touching and being touched by him. “Maybe he’s afraid I’ll get too emotionally connected, although I have told him that if that happens, I’ll deal with it myself. He’s explained he’s not the type to want a relationship, so if I fall in love with him, isn’t that my problem and not his?”

“You’d think so, but it’s rarely that simple.”

“Maybe I should fall in love with him. For practice.”

Consuelo winced. “Don’t go looking for heartbreak, kid. It’ll find you fast enough on its own.”

Maybe, but it would be wonderful to know what love was like—just once.

She glanced at the clock. “The guys are due to arrive shortly. We need to get finished.”

The office was nearly packed. There were two more boxes to fill. Felicia had arranged use of the service elevator, which meant the file cabinets could be moved with their contents in place. She’d already emptied the desk and storage cabinets, not to mention the small closet. With Justice, Ford and Angel each wielding hand trucks, she calculated the move would only take three hours. As long as everyone did what she said, things would go smoothly.

She and Consuelo finished packing about three minutes before Justice, Ford and Angel arrived.

“You couldn’t hire movers?” Ford asked as he took in the stacked boxes, with neat numbers written on the side.

“The city provides movers,” Felicia told him. “However, they have other responsibilities, and I didn’t want to wait. So you volunteered.”

“I don’t remember volunteering,” Ford grumbled.

“Me, either,” Angel said.

“Your lack of recall isn’t my problem,” she said firmly. She’d actually told them when and where to report. Which was almost like volunteering.

“Consuelo will supervise this end of things,” she continued. “I’ll be at the new place. When you take the boxes, please do so in order.” She paused for emphasis. “Once you are in my new office, you will stack them in order. Not all the odd numbers in one section and the evens in another. Not by prime numbers or weight, but in numerical order. Is that clear?”

Justice grinned. “I’m not sensing a lot of trust.”

“I know you. All of you.” She did her best to glare at them, not that she’d ever been especially intimidating. But a girl could dream.

“If you don’t listen to her, you answer to me,” Consuelo said firmly. “Got that?”

Angel and Ford exchanged a look, then nodded.

“The desk stays,” Felicia said, picking up her tablet and tapping on the screen. “So do the bookcases. You have the address. You may begin now.”

She started for the door, then turned back. “Thank you very much for your help. I’ll have beer and pizza waiting for all of you when we’re finished.”

Two minutes later she was on the street. As she exited the building, she was surprised to find several women on the sidewalk. They weren’t walking, and there wasn’t a festival. Instead they seemed to be waiting.

“Is it now?” one of them asked her.

“I wish it was hotter,” her friend said. “Then they’d want to take their shirts off.”

Felicia looked to the left and saw more women waiting. “I don’t understand.”

A woman wearing a bright purple tracksuit walked over. “We’re here for the parade,” she said cheerfully. “You’re Felicia, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m Eddie Carberry. Your bodyguards are moving your office today. We’re here to watch the show.”

Felicia still didn’t understand. “You want to watch men use hand trucks to move boxes and file cabinets?”

Eddie smiled at her. “We want to stare at rippling biceps and great butts. The boxes are just the delivery system.”

“Okay,” Felicia said slowly, thinking there was so much about small-town life she still found confusing.

She walked along the sidewalk. The gauntlet of women stretched to the corner, and when she made the turn, she saw it went on even longer. Her new office was on the other side of City Hall. As she approached that building, Mayor Marsha came out and started toward her.

“I don’t know how word got out,” the mayor said with a sigh. “I swear, the women in this town are like children. Promise them a half-naked man and they go wild.”

“The men won’t be half-naked, so I’m not sure they’re going to get what they came for.”

Mayor Marsha looked grim. “Honestly, I doubt that will matter.”

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