Delivered with a Kiss: Veteran Movers 4 Read online

  No, he’d steer clear of Erin Briggs except for the sporadic, uber polite hello.

  “Use these guys,” Tilly said as she returned, handing him a scrap of paper. “Call ‘em and see what they have to say.” She continued past him toward the kitchen.

  He glanced at the paper. “McSons Plumbing?” He followed her and found Erin putting something into the oven. A sauce cooking on the stove smelled of tomatoes and garlic. His mouth watered.

  Tilly smiled at him. “I hear they’re good looking and reasonable. They did some work for a friend of mine, and she recommended them.”

  “So, which is more important?” he asked drily. “That they’re good looking, reasonable, or good at their jobs?”

  “Good looking,” Tilly answered without missing a beat.

  Erin snickered.

  Smith sighed. “Fine. But they’ll have to work around my schedule if you want me to handle them and the tenants.” He ignored the way his pulse raced seeing Erin’s smile.

  “No problem. Now what are you cooking for us, Erin? Isn’t she great? An amazing cook and so smart. She has her own business, you know.” Tilly was less than subtle, staring from Smith to Erin and practically chortling with glee.

  But he had no intention of falling into whatever scheme the old woman had planned. No way in hell he’d do more than eat and be as pleasant as he could be for a guy who hated chitchat.

  So, an hour and a half later, he could do nothing but stare at Erin in consternation, wondering how in the hell he found himself sitting with her at Ringo’s Bar. On a date.

  Chapter Four

  Erin smiled at Smith. She’d been wrong about him. He did have a mode other than standoffish jerk. “Thanks again for bringing me along. I know this isn’t a date, that you were just trying to get Tilly off your case,” she said in a hurry, still embarrassed at the way Tilly had been throwing them together during dinner.

  “Uh-huh.” He frowned down at his beer.

  She took a sip of the concoction the waitress had suggested. Just Say Yes! —a mix of cranberry syrup, vodka, and two other alcohols that combined to make the potent drink both sweet and tasty. Erin didn’t drink much, but she felt entitled after that dinner. “I mean, I really like Tilly. She means well, but it was beyond obvious she wanted us to go out together.” She laughed at the thought.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She drank some more, then nibbled at the pretzels on the table. Between Smith and Tilly, they’d consumed most of the meal. They hadn’t seemed too bothered at her excuse she wasn’t hungry, finishing off what should have been leftovers while she’d picked at her small plate of noodles. Between Smith’s brooding presence and Tilly’s obvious and poorly thought out matchmaking skills, Erin had been too on edge to eat. Now she was hungry and thirsty. Pretzels and a cocktail. The meal of champions.

  “Funny?” she said to answer Smith, who sat studying her. “The thought of you and me.” She laughed again.

  “Explain.”

  “Well, for one, you’re a giant. I’m—”

  “The perfect size. I remember.” He smirked.

  “Plus, I’m nice. You don’t like people.”

  He nodded. “True.”

  “And I’m done with men. You’re definitely a man.”

  “Again, true.” He drank and watched her. “So, you going to try chicks or are you just saying you’re not dating guys for a while?”

  “Chicks?” She blinked, feeling a little muzzy. She hadn’t eaten anything besides the pot pie at lunch and a few noodles at dinner. And now the pretzels. The alcohol might just be hitting her harder than she’d expected. “Wait. Are you asking if I’m attracted to women?”

  “Are you?”

  “That’s kind of personal, isn’t it? Wouldn’t the answer be no? I mean, I just broke up with Cody.”

  He watched her carefully. “You can be into guys and girls, you know.”

  “Are you?”

  He choked on his beer. “Ah, no. I’m straight. I like women.”

  “Me too.” At his surprised expression, she amended, “I mean, I just like guys. Not women. I’m just not dating.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “What about you? Are you not dating too?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “Well, you are out with me.”

  “But you said this wasn’t a date.” The grin he shot her devastated her brain into frying on the spot. “You interested?”

  “I just said I wasn’t dating anymore.”

  He laughed. “Honey, there’s dating and there’s the rest of the way the world works. You don’t have to date to have sex.”

  She sat up straighter, gaping. “Are you telling me you want to have sex with me?” came out louder than she’d intended.

  A few guys near their table laughed. “If you don’t want her, I’m game.”

  “Pick me, pick me!”

  “Oh man. She’s so cute.”

  Smith turned and glared at the table, who toasted him then turned back to one another.

  Erin’s face felt hot enough to leave burns. She finished off her drink and waved down the waitress for another.

  Smith ordered another beer for himself as well. “You’re a lightweight. Better lay off the booze.”

  “You’re not my father,” she snapped, not liking how she continued to come across as pathetic or weak in front of him.

  “Christ, no. Fine. You want to drink and get stupid, go ahead.”

  “I’m not drunk, Smith,” she said primly. “I had one glass. I’m old enough to know my limits.” She really shouldn’t get another, but now she had to drink it to prove herself. She’d just eat more pretzels to counter the emptiness in her belly. Right.

  “So how old are you anyway?” he asked.

  “Twenty-five. You?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “Ah, an old man.” She sneered at him.

  He only laughed. “An old man who can hold his drink.” He took the bottle the waitress dropped off. “Thanks, Lisa. You’re the best.”

  Lisa smiled, a little too friendly, Erin thought, as she set a new cocktail in front of Erin before strutting away. She muttered under her breath, “Nice that he flirts with her and not me.”

  “Huh?”

  Gah. He had ears like a bat. She took the drink Lisa had left her and sipped. So fruity. Yum. “I said I bet you get in fights a lot.” She studied him. “You’re big. What are you? Six-two or something?” Anything over five ten was a blur to her.

  He leaned back in his chair, king of the bar. “Six-five. Two-twenty. All muscle. What about you?”

  “That’s none of your business.” She frowned at him.

  “You know, you really are cute.”

  She blushed.

  He grinned. “So how are you doing since moving in?”

  “Okay, I guess.” She sighed.

  “What?”

  “You’ll make fun of me.” Man, he’d been right. She was a lightweight. One drink and she felt wobbly, talking like Tilly with no filter. Erin never had been one for keeping secrets, and she was even worse when drinking.

  “I won’t.” Smith leaned in closer, his expression serious. So handsome.

  “I’m lonely.” She drank more, focused on feeling good. “But it’s natural. I’m new to the city, and the only people I know are Tilly and you. And you’ve been ignoring me.”

  He looked uncomfortable. “I, ah, sorry. I’ve been busy at work.”

  “Please. You were avoiding me. But it’s okay.” She smiled at him, knowing exactly how to get under his skin. “I probably scare you.”

  As predicted, the arrogant lunkhead scowled. “You don’t scare me.”

  “I do too.” She sipped again and giggled. Oh boy. Erin never giggled. “You’re afraid you’ll get to like me too much.” A total reach, but what the heck, Erin had a right to be obnoxious after dealing with both Tilly and Smith in the same night.

  “Yeah, right. I just don’t want you falling for me when
I’d only break your heart.”

  She stared, wondering if he’d said that or her slightly inebriated self had heard wrong. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you’re worried you’ll break my heart?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Man, you have some kind of colossal ego.”

  “That’s not all that’s colossal.” He wiggled his brows.

  Torn between laughter and disgust, she blurted, “You’re so conceited. I mean, sure you’re handsome. It’s obvious you’re tall and have muscles. But you’re an antisocial jerk.”

  “I am not.” Now he looked insulted when earlier he’d agreed he didn’t like people.

  “You are too.” She finished off her drink, needing to use the restroom.

  “I’m honest.”

  “Well, you can be honest and be nice about it.”

  “Hey, I didn’t tell Tilly to shut up at dinner when she went on and on about how great you are.”

  “I am great at cooking. I could cook everyone at this bar under the table.”

  He frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m a great cook. And someday when my YouTube channel has a bazillion followers and I have a cookbook and a show on TV, you’ll regret you never tried to get sexy with me.”

  He just stared at her. Then he sighed. “Yeah, you’re done. Wait here.” He left and returned moments later.

  She’d been stacking pretzels on the plate, no longer hungry. She felt a little sleepy, a little loopy, and dang it all, happy. For once she hadn’t been wallowing alone in her apartment watching reruns of The Great British Baking Show.

  Smith loomed over her like a thundercloud.

  “Man, are your eyes pretty.” A hiccup came out of nowhere and made her want to laugh again. “Whoops. Not sure where that came from.” She paused. “I need to pee.”

  “Time to go.” He gently helped her to her feet, not hauling her around, as she’d expected. He marched her toward the restroom and waited outside while she did what she needed to. Afterward, he walked her to his truck. He had to lift her into the thing since she had a tough time getting in herself.

  “Do they make these for giants or what?”

  “Good thing I drove,” he muttered.

  The drive back to the apartment building didn’t take long, but it was enough to even her out. “I’m not drunk, Smith. I’m happy and enjoying myself, for once. It’s been a while since I went out.”

  “I didn’t know that. So, you’re not a barfly?”

  “No.” She grinned at the thought. “I’m pretty much what I look like. A homebody. I like my family. I like to cook. I like reading and finding new things to try. I had a bunch of friends at home, you know.”

  “So why did you leave?”

  “I was bored. Cody and I were never together much. I did think I loved him.” She blinked back useless tears as he parked the truck.

  But she must have missed one because Smith wiped her cheek with a finger. “Aw, don’t cry.”

  “I’m not sad. Well, I am a little. But I’m more angry I let him get to me. When I think about how much I tried to be good and let him be the all-important part of our relationship, it just makes me mad.”

  He helped her out of the truck and walked with her into the building toward their apartments. But he paused in front of his unit, glanced at her, and frowned.

  “Well, thanks for—” She stopped when he opened his door.

  “Still game for some conversation?” He nodded for her to enter.

  Curious about his place, she preceded him inside. He shut and locked the door behind them, but he didn’t worry her. She trusted Smith on a level she’d have to consider later, when she wasn’t so affected by him.

  To her shock, his apartment looked homey. He had laminate floors that looked like hardwood, not crappy tile, she noted with envy. A big brown sectional couch and chaise sat over an area rug and faced a large television mounted to the wall. Two bookcases flanked the TV, filled with books. She walked up to one and touched it, stunned to find it a real book and not a place holder. Fiction and nonfiction lined the shelves.

  “Wow. You read?”

  He glared. “Yeah, I read. And I can count on more than my fingers and toes too.”

  She chuckled. “Who would have guessed?” She walked past him, studying her surroundings.

  “Make yourself at home,” he said with no small amount of sarcasm.

  “Thanks.”

  The apartment had a lot more space than hers. She noted a bathroom off the hall that led back into his bedroom. Knowing she’d probably never be allowed back in after annoying him tonight, she peeked inside to find the small space dominated by a queen-size bed, which must be tough for such a large man to sleep in. But she didn’t think a king would fit. He had one dresser and a closet. Everything looked neat, dusted, and the bed had been perfectly made, not one wrinkle on the comforter.

  The bathroom had towels hung perfectly straight, no messy toothpaste all over the counter, nothing but a cup and toothbrush holder with one toothbrush standing straight in it. A picture of a comic book hero had been framed and set on one wall of the small area. He had a full tub and shower, as opposed to her tiny standing corner shower. The toilet had a fuzzy blue cover to match the blue floor mat and blue towels.

  “Huh.” She never would have expected Smith to be so neat. Or so color coordinated.

  She walked back to the kitchen to find him standing, arms akimbo, waiting. “Seen enough?”

  “Not yet.” She stared in awe at his kitchen. It had an L shape, plenty of counter space, and a glorious kitchen island that he probably used as a table, because in the open space where a dining table might have been sat a bunch of free weights and a weight bench instead.

  The kitchen didn’t look high end. No granite counters or stainless-steel appliances, not that she would have expected those in Emerald Estates. But everything looked exceedingly clean and organized. It even smelled lemony fresh.

  “Wow. You’re a clean freak.”

  “I like things neat. Sue me.”

  “I might.” She sighed, running a hand over his countertop. “I miss this.”

  “This?”

  “My kitchen. My home cooking channel is a real thing, you know. I teach people how to cook and vendors pay me—not much, I admit—to advertise on my channel. Plus, I’m creating a cookbook at some point. I hope.”

  “Well, you killed the spaghetti tonight. Tilly loves bragging about your skill in the kitchen.”

  They stared at each other as a sudden silence settled over them. She thought he looked to kick her out of his apartment. And Erin didn’t think she could bear the quiet, being alone and lonely tonight after being in Smith and Tilly’s company. Going out with Smith had been fun and exciting, even if he did sometimes get on her nerves.

  “So, ah,” he said. “Do you,” she started at the same time.

  They broke off. “You first,” he offered.

  A glance at the microwave showed the hour had reached eight thirty. Did he need to get to bed early?

  “Do you want to watch TV together or something? Or do you need to get to bed? I’m not keeping you up, am I?” she asked.

  * * *

  She’d had him “up” since he’d been forced to watch her full lips nurse those drinks at the bar. God, the woman had no business looking so innocent and putting such carnal thoughts in his brain. He didn’t know what it was about her that had him thinking about sexing her up so damn much.

  “Bed?” he repeated weakly, having homed in on that one word. Sure, he’d be happy to make use of his bed. If she’d join him in it.

  Unfortunately, not only was she his neighbor, a naïve sweetheart from a small town in Kansas and just getting over a broken heart, she was also buzzed. He had no doubt she’d tied one on. In just two cocktails.

  He bit back the smile that threatened. Tonight she’d worn jeans and a pale blue short sleeved shirt that hugged her curves just right. Erin might be small, but she was definitel
y all woman. So fucking pretty, was all he could think as he stared into those bright eyes, now shadowed with uncertainty.

  What had she asked him? “Oh, I don’t go to bed until closer to eleven. Um, sure. You can hang out. We could watch TV.” Or something, like Netflix and chill like fucking bunnies until dawn. Man, this is hell. Send her home and go take a cold shower.

  Yet her admission that she was lonely hit him hard. He felt that way all the time. He’d just gotten better about sitting with it until the feeling passed. Although… Since working at Vets on the Go!, he had Ringo’s Bar to call a second home, the same place the gang liked to hang out on the weekends. And then there was Evan and Aunt Jane, who kept insisting he come to Sunday brunch to join her and her new beau in Bainbridge Island.

  He hadn’t taken her up on that yet, but knowing he had people to spend time with, who wanted his company, filled that emptiness he’d learned to live with. Erin didn’t have anyone. While a big part of him—and growing bigger—wanted to have sex with her in the worst way, the better part of him insisted he give her a friend.

  “What kind of TV do you watch?” she asked. “Military shows? You were in the Marine Corps, right?” She’d seen his last promotion framed on the wall, apparently. One of the proudest days in his life had been making Staff Sergeant in the Corps.

  “Yeah, I like military shows. But I’m into all sorts of things.” Action, fantasy, porn… He cleared his throat, grateful for the constrictive jeans and long tee-shirt hiding his enthusiasm. “You pick.”

  He waited for her to sit down then grabbed them both glasses of water to drink. Though two beers didn’t do much but soothe a parched throat for him, the water would help. He needed a clear head around Erin.

  He handed her a glass then sat on the couch, keeping a few throw pillows between them. He liked the sectional, typically making use of the long chaise, where he liked to relax. Erin could sit on the couch. No way he could get into any trouble if he lay away from her, facing the TV. Two friendly neighbors watching mindless entertainment…

  Erin watched him as she sipped, and he wanted nothing more than to be a glass of water. She put the glass down, and he stifled a groan. “No, you pick what we watch since it’s your apartment. Something fun though. No romcoms or dramas.”