Zero to Sixty Read online

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  Sam saw the hopeful look in her big, green eyes and nodded before her words registered. Anything to keep that smile there. “Sure.” Wait. She’d put her hands on him? To help him get better? Right now, just the thought of those hands got him hard. No way he’d be able to hide an erection on her massage table with just her and him in a tiny, dark room.

  The last adult flick he’d watched had been about a gal and a guy giving massage. Except in that case the dude’s hands had been all oiled up and the chick naked on the table. He couldn’t quite see Ivy agreeing to that, though God knew he was up for it. Right now, in fact.

  He prayed she didn’t look too hard at his crotch while he tried to will the hard-on away. “Ready to go see Willie and grab Cookie?”

  She nodded, still bubbly, and he let out a silent sigh. Man, staying away from her had been difficult. He’d had to forcibly stop himself from driving by Bodyworks yesterday. He wanted to be more concerned about her being a suitable dog owner, but the truth of the matter was that she’d hooked him with that kiss. A simple peck on the cheek, but she’d been so sweet about it. With him, a man not used to tenderness.

  For all that Foley’s mom had been there for him whenever he needed her, he’d always been aware she wasn’t his mom. Didn’t really belong to him, despite Eileen’s protests to the contrary.

  Ivy, however, wasn’t a friend. Wasn’t related. Didn’t belong in his world. But she’d given him a measure of hope, of longing, he couldn’t ignore.

  She’d finally called. And not just about Cookie. Sure, he was the logical choice to ask about a car problem. But if the woman had wanted to avoid him, why ask him about her car? Why not just contain their association to the dog?

  Feeling better about life, he suggested that he drive her to Willie’s and back to save her from possibly having her car lock up on the way over.

  “Okay. If you think that’s best.”

  They got into his car, and he turned toward Willie’s and said, “Actually, I think you should drop the car off at the garage tonight. I can run you home. I mean, if that’s okay. Or you could have a friend do it. Your call.” He was dying to know where she lived, but he didn’t want to come across as stalkerish. “If it were my clutch sticking like that, I’d get it fixed right away. Unless you had another car you could use.”

  “Nope. One car, just me.” She frowned. “Shelby lives in Green Lake, and Denise is in Fremont. They’re not all that close to give me a ride. I guess I could use a car service.”

  He spoke with care, not wanting to spook her. Besides, he told himself, keeping in touch with her would let him see Cookie more, to know the little dog was doing okay. He’d taken a shine to the puppy, especially after it had grossed out Foley. “Well, you know where Webster’s is, right? Are you close to that? I could always give you a ride until your car is fixed. Shouldn’t take but a few days to see what’s really wrong with it and get the parts in.”

  He waited, not daring to breathe, until she slowly nodded. They pulled into Willie’s driveway and he tried to act casual.

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind,” she said again. “You’ll really be doing me a favor.”

  He tried to downplay his victory. “Consider it my way to keep an eye on Cookie. I like the little guy.”

  She softened and smiled.

  He had to work damn hard not to lean over and steal a kiss. But then, Sam didn’t do things like that. He never made a move unless the woman told him he could. Yet with Ivy, he wanted to. And that alarmed him.

  He hurried out of the car and locked up after she’d done the same. Then he cautioned her on her way to meet Willie. “She’s a tough old broad. Says what’s on her mind. No filter. Just…you’ve been warned.”

  Ivy chuckled. “Don’t worry. If you didn’t scare me, I doubt she can.”

  “Hey, just remember I tried to tell you.” He shrugged.

  They walked up the steps to Willie’s front door. He rang the bell. Loud barking and swearing answered them.

  Ivy blinked.

  “Told you,” he murmured.

  Willie opened her door and stared at them through the screen door, her gaze lingering on Ivy. “Well? Come on in.” She moved back inside.

  Sam followed Ivy in and bumped into her when she stopped right in front of him.

  “Oh my gosh. It’s… It’s…”

  “Yep.”

  He knew the feeling. The first time he’d entered Willie’s, he’d felt as if he’d stepped through a time warp. The woman had a thing for orange, green, and yellow. And clutter. Foley made fun of him for collecting shit, but at least he had a sense of order to it, no matter what Foley thought. But Willie…

  “There’s so much stuff.” Ivy stepped over Tyrant, who meowed and wove through their feet. Sam had learned his lesson and glared at the cat before moving away. Pygar, Mathmos, and Cookie were playing tug-of-war with one of Willie’s shawls, and she was swearing at the animals something fierce. Of Barbarella he saw no sign.

  “Oh no.” Ivy jumped in to get Cookie’s teeth off the thing, while Sam did his best to break Pygar’s hold and shield Ivy from a nipping Chihuahua.

  Willie had gone from cursing to laughing. At Sam, no doubt.

  “So,” she drawled when she could catch a breath. “You the girl who wants my boy?”

  Ivy finally got Cookie away and stood huffing. She handed Willie back her mangled shawl. “Hello. Yes, I’m Ivy Stephens. I’m here for Cookie.”

  Willie shot Sam an amused glance, and he realized she’d been referring to him as her boy, not the dog.

  He flushed. Interfering old bat. “Willie, we’re taking the dog.”

  “Not yet you ain’t. Ivy, fetch me my sticks, would you?” She motioned to the bag on the side table.

  “Her crocheting needles,” Sam said.

  “Knitting isn’t crocheting, Sam Hamilton. You know better.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” Then he noticed she didn’t have her usual evening tea. “You want some Earl Grey or what?”

  “Yep. Ivy? Would you like a cup?”

  Ivy blinked, dazzled no doubt by the glittery, naked collectibles in various poses in the corner hutch. “Um, yes. Sure. Okay.”

  Sam glared at Willie, mouthed Be nice, then went to the kitchen.

  He didn’t hear much, but when he returned, he saw Ivy staring with rapt attention at Willie’s gnarled fingers moving like lightning with her yarn.

  “Kind of mesmerizing, isn’t it?” He brought over Willie’s tea tray, on which a delicate teapot steeped tea next to two matching cups on saucers, and a set of sugar and creamer dispensers. The tea set meant something to the old woman, because of everything in the house, this seemed the most precious. No chips or scratches, no dust or stains. The pristine set had been meticulously cared for while being used daily.

  The first time she’d offered Sam tea, he’d watched with rapt attention to the ritual of preparing it. Now he took it upon himself to make the stuff if she didn’t have any made. But he didn’t like Earl Grey. Not that he’d ever tell the guys, but Sam had a sensitive palate—according to Willie—and he now preferred a nice oolong or Lapsang souchong, which had a smoky flavor he enjoyed. Willie diluted hers with milk and sugar. He preferred his black.

  “Wow. Do you do that every day?” Ivy asked, staring at Willie’s fast moving fingers in awe.

  “Yep, right as rain.” Willie continued to knit like a woman possessed. Frankly he’d rather have his fingernails pulled out than have to perform such banal repetition, but it kept Willie busy and out of trouble. Speaking of which…

  “You been having any problems with the burglaries in town?” he asked her. “I heard the thieves have gone from hitting businesses to neighboring houses. Somebody looking at this place from the outside might think there’s something valuable in here. But, boy, would they be w
rong once they got in,” he added, half to himself.

  “Asshole,” Willie snapped at the same time Ivy admonished, “Sam.”

  “No manners at all. If you take him on, you’re gonna have to fix him up nice. Not sure what he can do in the sack, but you’ll know goin’ in that he’s something in the rough. Not sure I’d call him a diamond. More like a lump of coal that needs a lot of grindin’. You get me, girl?” Willie looked at Ivy’s wide eyes and open mouth and laughed so hard she got the dogs going.

  Even Cookie howled before starting marathon laps up and down the stairs, joining Pygar and Mathmos. Barbarella appeared and sat in the dog bed, vacillating between disdain and boredom for the humans in her space.

  Ivy coughed and stood, her face aflame. “I’ll get him.” She darted away before Sam could.

  “Damn it, woman. Be nice,” he hissed at Willie. “Don’t scare her away.”

  “Before you can, you mean?” She sighed. “Boy, you got to go easy with this one. She’s pretty but soft. Not your usual type.” Willie watched him. “I like her though. She took to Cookie, and Mathmos didn’t bite her. That’s a good sign.”

  Probably because the dog was going blind and couldn’t see her; plus Sam had intercepted the Chihuahua’s tiny jaw earlier. But hell. If Willie liked her, she’d be nicer. He hoped.

  Ivy came back downstairs, her face beet red, holding Cookie. “Um, Sam, I think we should go. It’s getting late.”

  “You okay?”

  Willie wore a big grin. “Did he happen to go into my room? With all the straps and things?”

  Ivy nodded, and he worried she might choke.

  “You okay?” He glanced at the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

  “No.” She gripped his arm. “I’m good. Just thought I saw a spider.”

  “Caught in a silky, black web, eh?” Willie hooted with laughter and slapped her thigh. “Don’t worry about none of that, Ivy. That’s for me and my friend Rupert to play with. But if you have any questions, let me know. I’m happy to help educate today’s youth.” That set Willie off again.

  “Drink your tea before it gets cold,” Sam scolded, curious as to what had made Ivy’s face that red. He worried she might pass out, and her grip on the dog said it was time to go. “Thanks for watching him. I’ll see you in a few days. Call if you need anything.”

  “Get out. I’m done with you.” Willie waved at the doorway.

  He tugged Ivy with him and shut them all in the car. After a moment, Cookie settled on her lap and took a snooze. “What the hell did you see up there?”

  She shuddered. “You don’t want to know.”

  They drove back to her car, listening to the radio. Then she followed him to the garage. He had her park her car close to the bay doors. He planned to go in early in the morning and work on it before the day began. That way Del couldn’t bitch him out for doing a personal job during working hours. Not that she would, but he liked to cover all his bases just in case.

  Besides, he had a real urge to help Ivy.

  She rejoined him in his Challenger, with Cookie now sleeping in the backseat, and they drove toward her home. To his delight, she didn’t live that far from him at all. Maybe fifteen minutes. Perfect for a midnight rendezvous.

  If only.

  She still looked to be in shock.

  “Okay, I have to know.”

  She glanced at him. “Are you sure? It’s in my brain permanently now, and I don’t know that it’ll ever scrub free.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I found Cookie caught up in a contraption hanging from the ceiling.” She lowered her voice, which made him want to laugh. Like him, she tried to protect the baby canine’s virgin ears. “It was a sex swing. And before you ask how I know what that is, she had pictures of herself using it, right there on her nightstand. Of her and her friend Rupert. Naked. Wrinkly and naked. And using the swing and, um, other stuff.”

  “No shit?” He let out a bark of laughter that woke the dog. “Sorry, buddy. Seriously though. Willie and Rupert swinging and getting nasty. Damn. Now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “Welcome to my world.” Ivy leaned her head back against the black vinyl seat.

  He chanced a glance and quickly looked away. With her parted lips, her flushed face, and her eyes closed, she appeared as if asleep. Or flush from an orgasm that had left her breathless.

  Man, not good thoughts with her right damn next to him in the car. He could smell her perfume, a floral type that seemed to go with the natural, intrinsic scent that was Ivy.

  “You wearing perfume?”

  “Oh, no. Sorry. That’s probably leftover from the aromatherapy I used with my last client today. It tends to linger. I don’t wear perfume much. Mostly because we don’t wear it for work. A lot of people have issues with strong scents.”

  He hadn’t known that. “How long have you been doing massage?”

  “Seven years. Eight if you count my hours during schooling. At first it was a way to make money while I decided what I wanted to major in. The certification only took a year, and it soon paid the bills. But then I found I really liked it. I love my job, but it’s not easy. There are so many massage therapists in Seattle.”

  “Yeah? Well, there are a lot of mechanics in Seattle too. But if you’re good, you’re good.”

  “Like you?” she teased.

  He liked her feeling comfortable enough to tease him. “Like me,” he agreed. “And you too. You seem like you’re busy a lot.”

  “I am. I also teach some workshop classes, which helps. And I might be getting a shot at teaching a class at a community college.” She sounded pleased about that fact.

  Sam hadn’t gone past the twelfth grade and had no intention of going back to school. Sure, he took the occasional auto class to keep up-to-date on work. But that was different. He actually used what he learned. Not like the nimrods in college studying freakin’ French literature and theoretical ass wiping.

  But this wasn’t about him. It was about Ivy. “That’s cool.”

  “What about you? How long have you been working at Webster’s Garage?” She pointed to a spot where he pulled the car in.

  He parked and followed her out, locking up behind them once he saw Cookie in her arms. “About four years. Foley and I moved around a lot after high school. But Seattle’s home, you know?”

  She nodded. “I grew up in Portland, but once I came to this city, I just knew. I like it here.” She shifted the dog, but he plucked the puppy from her arms so she could grab her keys. He wondered if she’d invite him in. If he should say yes if she did.

  She unlocked the door and turned to him. He had to glance down to meet her gaze; she was smaller by more than a head. But as soon as he saw her eyes, he could look nowhere else. Until her mouth curled into a shy smile.

  “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? I hate to say it, but I’m not a fan of Earl Grey. I just accepted Willie’s offer because I didn’t want to be rude.” Then she paused. “I have beer too, or iced tea.” Then she flushed. “But you probably have a lot to do so—”

  “Tea sounds great. Got any oolong?”

  She blinked in surprise, then gave him a warm smile. “You know, I think I do.”

  Chapter 5

  Ivy wondered if she’d made the wrong choice by asking Sam to come inside. She hoped he wouldn’t take her invitation the wrong way, even if she had no idea in what way she’d actually meant it. She just knew she wanted to spend more time with him.

  He set Cookie down, and the dog went exploring, disappearing into the short hallway leading to her bedroom and the bathroom. Not a whole lot of options for Cookie.

  “This is nice.” Sam glanced around.

  “It’s not much, but it’s home.” Trite but true. She’d moved into the apartment two years ago, changed the paint to a buttery yellow, added a dar
k blue to her bedroom walls, and hung a few pictures. Since it was just her, she didn’t need much. The open floor plan made up for the small size of the place. At just under seven hundred square feet, it felt roomy enough to her—unless she had a big man like Sam standing in the middle of it.

  He glanced at her small TV mounted on the wall above the tiny but functional gas fireplace, at the bookshelves on either side of it, and at the small table against the wall near the kitchen that served as her dining area. Both leaves in the table had been folded down to make the room appear more open, but she could always put them up when she had company.

  Like now.

  Ivy dropped her purse and keys onto their spots on her funky, tiled hall table, took a quick glance at herself in the mirror above it, and knew she looked as good as she was going to get. Her hair seemed somewhat tame; her makeup remained tidy. Not that it should matter. It was just Sam over for a cup of tea, after all.

  After kicking off her shoes and hanging her jacket, she joined Sam in the living room.

  “Need to use your bathroom.” Sam raised a brow in question.

  “Oh, it’s right there.” She pointed to the hall. “If you find the bedroom, you went in the wrong door.”

  He grunted and walked away. The door closed shortly after.

  She hurried to turn on some music, so she wouldn’t hear him doing his business. The downside of a small space—she could hear everything in her apartment. Yet because she had an end unit in the fourplex, she hardly ever heard her neighbors. The landlord had informed her that a big plus of this unit, in addition to the price, was the upgraded soundproofing. She had to admit he’d been right. She rarely heard noise from the high school across the street or the musicians two doors down. Plus, she could walk right across the road to Seward Park, overlooking the water. What wasn’t to love?

  She set the kettle on the stove and dragged out two mugs and two tea bags. She liked a bit of sugar in her tea, so she put out a small bowl. Then she waited, humming to some funky jazz while she played a game of fetch with Cookie and his red rubber ball.