Blown Away (7 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Julian

Tags: #DeMarco Investigations#3

BOOK: Blown Away
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Another nod.
 
Ooh-
kay
.
 
He was ready to launch another round of small talk before she turned to him with a determined look on her face.

“Would you teach me to cook?”

“Huh?” That was totally not what he’d been expecting but he could’ve made an effort at a more intelligible response.

She bit into her bottom lip before saying, “I never learned to cook. I never really learned to use a washing machine either. And if I’m going to learn to live a little, I need to learn how to pick up guys.”

 

Merri’s spirits perked as Jimmy’s mouth dropped open.

For the first time since she’d arrived in Philadelphia, she felt like she had some control of the situation.

For the past three hours, as she’d tried to sleep, her mind had refused to give in. She’d never faltered like this before. Why now? Why was she acting like a ditzy blond teenager?

Well, no more.

She was a brilliant mathematician with high-level clearance in a sensitive government position. So she couldn’t cook. Well, she’d learned string theory at the age of fifteen. She could by
-
God learn to cook.

And so what if she’d never really had a boyfriend? It was nothing to be ashamed of. She’d been too busy working toward her master’s degree when she was eighteen to be messing around with guys. Still, sex was a great stress reliever and she was no virgin.

She stiffened her back and refused to release Jimmy’s gaze. After a full minute, he shook his head and said, “Huh?”

She smiled and he swallowed and finally blinked.

“I said I want you to teach me how to cook, how to work a washing machine, and how to pick up men. What didn’t you understand?”

There, now his smile returned and she could see admiration and something else in his eyes. Something that made her feel like she had a hot ball of lead in her stomach.

Then he shook his head again, breaking their eye contact as he turned to shut the door.

“I think I’m going to need to eat before we have this discussion. Come on.”

A short hallway from the foyer led straight to the back of the house. To the left was a living room, done in dark forest tones of green and beige and blue. To the right, as far as she could tell, was an empty room. Farther along the hall was what looked to be a library to the right and a formal dining room to the left. At the back of the house, through a swinging door, the kitchen had rich red walls, pristine white cabinets, and gleaming stainless appliances, the kind she figured they used in restaurants. A chef’s kitchen. A kitchen for someone who loved to cook. Something she never would have guessed about Jimmy.

“Did you renovate this room, too?”

“Yeah, I did. Blew most of my budget for the house on the kitchen.”

Jimmy crossed to the center island, half of which held a cooktop. Double ovens and what looked like a pizza oven filled the wall space next to the large sink behind the island. Miles of counters and more cabinets than she could count filled the other two walls and a banquette set for dinner waited in the corner to the left of the door.

“So you like to cook?”

Nodding, h
e turned to grab a golden brown chicken and brought it to the table then retrieved a covered bowl from the bottom oven. “I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my mom when I was young. Cooking is mostly an experiment and I like to experiment. Get that basket there and bring it to the table.”

She grabbed the wicker basket off the island and walked to the banquette. He’d set the table so they’d be facing each other. A whole night staring into Jimmy’s blue eyes. Her stomach did a slow quiver and she had to remind herself that she was strong. She could do this.

Sure, learning to cook and wash clothing was important, but she really had her heart set on seducing Jimmy. And she planned to use his own training against him.

When they were settled at the table and they’d filled their plates, he asked, “So, why the sudden urge to cook and wash?”

She gave him her most innocent look. “Don’t you want to know why I want to pick up guys?”

He nearly choked on the mouthful of chicken. “Why don’t we start with the easy stuff and work up to the, uh…the more difficult.”

She let him swing for a few seconds before she let him off the hook with a casual shrug. For now, anyway. Later, all bets were off.

“Because I never learned how. I’ve always had everything done for me. I never learned how to do wash because my mom
always
took care of
it at home and, when I got to college, they assigned me an aide because of my age, and she did it.
And I never really had any urge to learn to cook. Why bother when you can make one phone call and someone delivers it to your door?”

He nodded, his gaze becoming sharper. “So why do you want to learn now?”

“I like new challenges. And I appear to have time on my hands. And you really don’t want to see me when I’m bored.”

And it’ll keep you close to me.

His lips curved in one of those smiles that made her want to sigh like a teenager. Then Jimmy dropped his gaze to his half-empty plate, and she was almost afraid she’d said that last bit out loud.

“Well, I’m sure Mom would be happy—”

“No!” She drew in a deep breath and tried to squelch her panic. “No, your mom’s going to be doing enough for me while I’m here. I thought…maybe…you could teach me.”

Then she gave him her best imitation of a sexy smile.

 

Jimmy fought opposing urges to run like hell and agree to Merri’s scheme before she changed her mind.

And holy hell, was she smiling at him like that to make him get on his knees and beg her to stay?

But more importantly, he wanted to know why. Why had she decided to stay with him? And why the hell had she asked
him
to help her learn how to pick up guys?

Had she figured out that he wanted her? Had he made it obvious?

So why wasn’t she running like hell in the other direction?

Something about the bravado in her expression didn’t quite reach her eyes as she waited for him to answer.

Jesus, how the hell could he agree to this? She was so vulnerable right now, angry and upset and hurt. He didn’t want to do anything to contribute to that.

But if he didn’t, she was over the age of consent. She could head to the nearest bar and pick up the first guy she laid her eyes on.

And he knew enough about Merri to know she didn’t have a lot of experience with guys. At least not in romantic relationships. She could get seriously taken advantage of.

Then there was the fact that he didn’t want to say no.

He wanted her. Had since he’d first shaken her hand when they’d been introduced at the office several months ago.

She’d stared up at him with those huge green eyes. He hadn’t been able to tell if she’d been terrified or fascinated.

And he couldn’t read her now either. He really didn’t have a clue what she was up to.

“Let me get this straight. You want me to teach you how to cook and use a washer?”

“And teach me how to pick up guys. Don’t forget that.”

He was ready this time and managed not to have his mouth drop open in astonishment. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

Finally she dropped that cat-green gaze. “Well, you’re an older guy, so I figure you have experience—”

He held up one hand and swallowed fast. “Wait a minute. ‘Older guy’?”

She shrugged. “You’re what? Close to forty? I thought—”

“Forty?” He glared at her. “Hell, I’m only thirty-three.”

She lifted her gaze, humor sparking in the depths. “You’re still eight years older than me.”

Well, yeah, but that didn’t make him ancient— Wait. Was she flirting with him? His gaze narrowed but she still had that innocent look going. “What is it exactly you want to learn?”

She shrugged again, eyes going wide and fast losing their innocence. “You’re the one with the experience. I guess you can make that determination.”

He had no idea what to say to that, just sat there looking at her as she went back to eating.

Thankfully, she let the conversation die, but of course he thought of nothing else as they finished dinner.

He had no problem teaching her to cook or use a washing machine. But helping her pick up guys?

The only guy he wanted her to pick up was him. He’d be damned if he’d set her on an unsuspecting bar, practicing her pickup skills on guys who’d be more than happy to take advantage of her. Just the thought made him furious.

By the time he sent Merri into the study with the brownies while he put the dishes in the dishwasher, he’d convinced himself her plan was a good idea.

Despite the fact that his parents, Janey, and Mal would all cut off different parts of his anatomy if he hurt her.

And what if you get hurt?

Very real possibility there.

Because he liked her. A lot.

But she lived and worked in Washington DC and had a job that might actually be more time-consuming than his own.

And other than a few stray glances, he had no idea if she had any interest in him other than as research material.

“Jimmy? Everything okay? Do you need help?”

Hell. Merri stood in the doorway to the kitchen, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. As he straightened, he glanced at the time on the microwave. He’d lost fifteen minutes. She’d probably thought he’d left. Or was avoiding her, which might not be far from the truth.

He tried a smile, which felt more like a grimace. “Sorry. Lost track of time.”

Another woman might have taken that as a slight. Merri commiserated with a smile. “Do it all the time. I should probably get out of here, anyway. It’s been a long day, and I’m sure you have work to do instead of entertain me—”

“No!” Whoa, tone it down, buddy. “No, don’t go. I—I thought we’d start tonight.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and he retreated immediately. “I mean, how about we tackle the washing machine tonight? That’s an easy one.”

Her apparent relief put a true smile on his face. Maybe she wasn’t as blasé about this as she’d made it sound.“Sure. That’s sounds great.”

Two minutes later, Merri had her hands on his pants and he had a hard-on. He’d never had a hard-on in his basement before, and it was really kind of weird.

“So, all the like colors go together?” She glanced up at him, a pair of khakis in one hand and jeans in the other. “Darks and lights in separate piles. What about colors?”

Jimmy moved behind the former island he now used as a folding table to hide the bulge in his jeans. “Well, light colors, like light blues and light greens and tans, they can go in a load.
 
Brights
like reds and oranges and pinks
¾

“You wear orange and pink clothing?”

He thought about his bright orange boxers with grinning pumpkin faces and neon pink boxers with lipstick-red lips all over them.

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