His brows stayed knit and his eyes got dark. “You got what?”
“Highlights,” I snapped, jerking a pointed finger to my hair.
He looked to my hair and muttered, “Fuck, thought something was different.”
I blinked.
He looked back to me. “Looks nice. Definitely like the bangs.”
I blinked again.
Then I took a step his way, got up on my toes and accused, “Do not stand there and tell me you didn’t notice my highlights or my new clothes.”
He looked down his nose at me. “Noticed the haircut, babe, like I said, it looks nice. Definitely noticed the clothes but didn’t think they were new. Thought the old shit was shit you were usin’ because you hadn’t unpacked all your stuff yet ’cause when you did, it was more you.”
“So you’re saying this newfound attraction to me isn’t about my highlights and clothes,” I scoffed.
“Babe, don’t hand me that crap,” he growled. “You’re old enough to know you got it. And you’re also old enough to know a man does not get in the face of another man and then offer to help around the house unless he’s into the woman he’s offerin’ that shit to.”
My heart jumped, my teeth clenched and Lawr was proved correct.
However, I could not let this get to me.
Instead, I found it was time to share something with him.
“I am aware that your preferences run to tall redheads with big breasts.”
Surprise washed over his features as he asked, “What?”
“I saw you,” I spat. “With that beautiful redhead at the movies.”
That was when his features turned smug.
I felt pressure build in my chest, throat, but especially in my head. “You like that I saw you?”
“May not say much for me, Amy, but after watchin’ you make a date with Stone right in front of me and make out with that douche, yeah. I like it that I gave you a little of that torture you handed me, seein’ me with Bridget.”
That torture you handed me.
That hurt him.
God, he was into me.
I couldn’t let that get to me and leaned deeper into him in order to remind him, “I kissed you and you pulled away.”
He bent his neck to get in my face and called sarcastically, “Hello, Amy. First, fightin’ your pull because I didn’t need to be fuckin’ the woman across the street, and if that shit went south, puttin’ myself in an awkward situation when I got my kids every other week…or puttin’ myself in that situation at all. Second, fightin’ your pull because you’re you and you’re loaded and I had my head up my ass about protectin’ me and my family. But last, not gonna fuck some cute brunette with great tits on my couch while my kids are in their beds.”
“I’m not cute,” I snapped waspishly.
“No, you’re not, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. But when you wake up on my couch after playin’ Frisbee with my kids, you’re cute.”
I rocked back, staring up at him, lips parted, liking too much the way all of that made me feel.
“Now, are we done givin’ the residents their afternoon entertainment and you’re gonna let me take you out and make it up to you or are we gonna go a few more rounds?” he asked.
When he did, in horror, I turned to look over my shoulder to see all the windows had been opened and the seniors had their faces in them. Mrs. McMurphy even had a cheek pressed to one of the bars.
It was then I realized that quite some time early in our conversation, both our voices had started rising.
Mortification seeped through me.
I slowly looked back when Mickey kept on and he didn’t do it quietly.
“I’ll warn you, might make me crazy, might make me a dick, don’t give a shit, but I get off on goin’ head to head with you. So if you feel like keepin’ your gloves up, baby, bring it. ’Cause I know after doin’ it for a while and then gettin’ that kiss from you, you keep doin’ it, when I finally fuck you it’s gonna,” he leaned deep into me, “wreck you.”
I stared into his eyes and that got to me.
I wanted to be wrecked.
I wanted to be wrecked by Mickey.
Needed it.
Thankfully, I didn’t say that because my lips wouldn’t move.
“Michael Patrick Donovan, I’ll be sharing your liberal use of profanities with your mother and Father Riley!” a female I was pretty sure was Mrs. Osborn, who wandered the home with her rosary beads daily, shouted.
Mickey ignored that and I watched his eyes change in a way that made me wish I could fall into them and swim in that blue forever.
“Have dinner with me,” he whispered.
Oh God, I wanted that too.
I felt his hand curl around the side of my neck and the feel of his strength, his heat through that simple touch made me want it more.
“Amy,” he prompted.
“I need to think,” I whispered and watched his eyes flash and they did this with victory.
It was fabulous.
Then his hand on me tightened and he murmured, “I’ll give you what you need.”
I didn’t lie. I needed to think.
I also needed to call Robin and discuss.
Thoroughly.
And, possibly, Lawrie.
Mickey lifted up and kissed my forehead in a way that was unbearably sweet.
Then he let me go and I felt bereft in a way that was intensely troubling.
In a haze caused by Mickey, I felt him move beyond me and whirled quickly.
“Mickey,” I called.
He turned to me.
I looked at his beauty and swallowed.
Then I said softly, for only him and no audience to hear, “If I decide to give this a shot, before I share that with you, you need to think too. You have to have your head straight. I know you’re still dealing with Rhiannon’s issues and I hate that for you and the kids. But they’re hers, not mine. And if you do anything like you did to me last night ever again, I’m sorry, it might not be fair, but I have to tell you, there won’t be any more second chances.”
“Don’t have to think,” he returned instantly and also quietly, only for me. “If you give me that shot, I don’t know what’s gonna happen. If this goes somewhere, we both gotta know that won’t always be smooth. That happens, that’ll be ours. But what I handed you last night that you didn’t do shit to deserve, swear to Christ, Amy, I won’t need any second chances.”
Swear to Christ, Amy, I won’t need any second chances.
That’ll be ours.