Jackson smiled as she fished for his age. The age thing mattered to her.
“Yes. I’m older.”
Her smile grew with a look of relief.
“By seven minutes.”
That look of relief quickly faded. “Really, twins?”
“Yes. So how old are you?”
She tapped the toilet brush on the edge and returned it to the bucket. “That’s kind of a bold question. You know it’s not polite to ask a woman her age.”
“You asked Jillian’s.”
“Let me rephrase, it’s not polite for a man to ask a woman her age.”
“Sounds like a double standard.” He chuckled. “Besides, I’m a bold guy, so it’s fitting that I ask bold questions.”
Ryn cleaned the mirror, occasionally meeting his eyes through the reflection. “How old do you think I am?”
“I’m bold, not stupid, so I’m not answering that.”
“I’m in my thirties as well.” She rolled her lips between her teeth to contain her smile.
He felt bad for playing her, but he wanted her to think of him as a normal guy. Telling her that he’d already done a full background check on her would not get him past his celibacy phase. Women were sensitive about the whole invasion-of-privacy thing.
“Can I be honest with you?” he asked.
“Honesty’s good.”
“I told Jillian I’m interested in you.”
She gulped—loudly. Then her hands doubled their pace, working at record speed. Her eyes remained focused on her task. He enjoyed seeing her uncomfortable. It meant she was attracted to him.
“She wasn’t too pleased because she doesn’t want you to quit cleaning our house or AJ’s.”
Another gulp. She had an excess of saliva.
He continued since she didn’t have anything to add yet. “So she said I should make it clear that we’re going to just have sex or else I need to marry you.”
“Oh my God! What?” She turned, holding the cleaning rag against her chest as if she were standing there topless.
A grin dominated his whole face and nothing had ever felt so good, which was weird because his dick remained in his pants. He worked her for a reaction the same way he had done for years with Jillian.
“I agree. Marriage might be too soon. I wouldn’t dream of proposing without asking for your father’s blessing.”
“I’m almost forty!” she spewed out the words like a last-minute confession with a gun pointed to her head. Even her face scrunched into a frightened grimace.
“Great, so you have a birthday coming up. We should celebrate.”
“I have a daughter. She’s twenty-one.” Another rushed confession.
“I’d love to meet her.”
Ryn narrowed her eyes. “As in … you want me to fix the two of you up?”
Jackson chuckled. “I’m keeping you from working. We should have drinks later and discuss what I want in further detail.”
“I have to take Gunner for a walk…” she hugged the cleaning rag to her chest even tighter “…later.”
“Your ferret?”
The hardened statue in front of him relaxed a little. He enjoyed the smile that reacquainted itself with her lips. “No.” She laughed. “He’s my dog.”
“Ohhh … gotcha. So leave me your address and I’ll come walk with you.” He knew her address, but once again, it didn’t seem like a good idea to tell her that.
“You’re relentless,”
“You have no idea.” He made a point of letting his gaze drag slowly up her body until he could see a small sheen of perspiration on her brow. Mission accomplished.
*
Leaving an ass print on the beach carried less intimidation when Jackson Knight seemed unattainable—celibate. Sex or marriage. Who says that? Definitely not a thirty-year-old guy with the most unique eyes Ryn had ever seen, a body sculpted for the front cover of a fitness magazine, and tattoos that were clearly on display for the sole purpose of her enjoyment. And a guy like that definitely did not say that to a nearly forty-year-old woman losing her battle with gravity.
Perhaps she’d hallucinated the whole conversation. It was hard to say for sure. There had been heart palpitations, sweating, and foggy-brained confusion. Had she also imagined the inappropriate way he looked at her? Ryn hoped not. She rather liked how he looked at her. He made her feel a hundred times sexier than she imagined possible.
Clothes were strewn all over her room. It was a walk, not dinner with the president. She didn’t need to try on ten different outfits, but she did anyway. After settling on the most boring choice ever—gray yoga capris and a white tank top—she waited on her porch swing with Gunner at her feet.
“You’re smiling at no one in particular.”
She turned. “Hey, Drew.”
“Good day?”
She snorted out a laugh when a wood-paneled PT Cruiser pulled into her driveway, the perfect visual to temper her attraction to Jackson. Then he got out and the PT Cruiser might as well have been a Ferrari. Jackson exuded sexiness. He made ugly beautiful. Could he make her feel half as desirable as he looked?
Drew chuckled. “He’s young.”
“Yup.” Ryn couldn’t take her eyes off Jackson as he navigated up her driveway like a catwalk, wearing faded ripped jeans and a fitted black tank top that showed more of his tattoos than she had ever seen.
“Hi.” Jackson first acknowledged Drew.
“Hey there. Well, you two have fun at the beach.” Drew’s steps faded into the distance.
Warmth surged along her skin, overheating her whole body. Someone needed to throw some ice water on her.
“The beach?” Jackson questioned.
“Inside joke.” Her eyes took their first blink since he’d pulled into her driveway.
“Hot car.” She grinned.
Sex in the flesh shoved his hands deep into his pockets, flexing the muscles along his arms, but her eyes latched onto the wide black waist band of his underwear exposed in the front from his hands pushing down.
“Thank you.”
Ryn shook her head with an embarrassingly huge smile plastered to her face. “Are you conducting some sort of experiment?”
“On?”
“What makes a man sexy.” She snapped her finger and pointed to the ground beside her. Gunner took his position on command. “Because before you pulled up I would have said no man could look sexy driving a PT Cruiser. I stand corrected.”
Jackson cocked his head to the side, watching Gunner. “I’m not part of any experiment.” He continued looking at Gunner as if he were talking to him. “But I do know the answer to that question.”
“I have no doubt that you do. I’m sure you see it in the mirror every day. Walk.” She started toward the sidewalk with Gunner right at her side.
“Nope. But don’t stress over it. I’ll tell you someday. By the way … I think I’m in love with your dog.”
“You’ve only just met.”
“Well he’s beautiful and well behaved. No leash?”
“He doesn’t need one.”
“What if a rabbit or squirrel runs out in front of him?”