Satellite of Love. Christa Maurice

wasn’t?” He worked his fingers under her palm and started drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

      “I was thinking about hobbies and interests.” She couldn’t manage a decent breath. Only the top third of her lungs were operating and it was making her dizzy. Or maybe it was his touch making her dizzy. Either way, she needed to put down her coffee cup before she dropped it.

      “You’re interesting.” He leaned over, set his coffee cup on the table and when he sat back, turned toward her.

      “Not that interesting.”

      “You’d be surprised.” He brought her hand to his lips.

      The fingers around her cup got very jealous and distracted, but just as they mutinied, Michael caught the cup and put it on the table. Maureen shivered as he leaned in closer.

      “I think you’re fascinating,” Michael murmured just before pressing his lips to hers. He cupped her cheek, and still held her hand.

      Maureen parted her lips under his gentle assault. Her free hand strayed across his chest, exploring the tempting hardness she’d been sneaking peeks at all day. Exactly as hard and molded as she’d thought. He groaned against her mouth. The sound vibrated through her and raised her temperature. The turtleneck was a bad choice. Too hot. She needed to take it off right now. Bunching her fingers in his shirt, she decided his shirt was too hot too, and she needed to know what his bare skin felt like. No other man had ever made her feel this reckless. She couldn’t decide whether she should push him onto his back or lean back, pulling him on top of her.

      Michael made the decision for her. He sat back, still holding her hand and blinking. “Well, that’s some coffee.”

      “Yeah.” Was he up to innuendos about dessert, and was she really up to offering? This was a second date. She had a reason for resisting. Was she prepared to toss that reason out the window?

      “I should probably go.” Michael stood, a little unsteadily. “Are you coming to the garage in the morning?”

      “Only if you come get me. My car is still there.” She stood too. There was still time to offer dessert. It would save him a trip.

      “Great. I’ll get you for lunch again.”

      “I’ll have to bring some work with me.”

      “Oh.” He frowned. “I am being a big time suck, huh? Do you—are you sure you can afford to lose the time? I can just bring the car over tomorrow afternoon when I’m done. You don’t have to be there.”

      She knotted her hands behind her back. Dang it, he was doing it again. Mixing his signals. Assuming she wanted to be at the garage and then telling her she didn’t need to be. Push, pull. That alone should have been enough to make her remember she was fixed here probably with his nephew in her class next year while he’d be leaving. Imagine the parent teacher conferences with Tony and Pam D’Amato sitting across the desk from her.

      Imagine missing out on Michael. “Don’t you want me at the garage?”

      “Yeah, but not if you don’t have the time. I mean, I don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

      “I can bring what I need.” Except the computer to put the grades into. Lugging her desktop to the garage would be overkill. It was early enough to get some done tonight.

      And after he left town, she’d have plenty of time.

      “I’ll just bring along what I need. Unless you don’t want me there.”

      He gave her a crooked grin. “Baby, I’m starting to want you everywhere.” Dragging her into his arms, he kissed her again, bending her back.

      Maureen sunk her fingers into his shoulders as a tide of heat engulfed her. Parent teacher conferences with the D’Amato’s were a long way away and her personal life wasn’t any of their business. She wanted this, now. To hell with the consequences. Maureen wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself up his body until he groaned. His fingers clutched the back of her shirt.

      “You are no average, ordinary girl,” he murmured, brushing his lips along her jaw.

      “I never claimed to be anything I wasn’t.”

      “No, you didn’t.” He lifted his face from hers. “I better get out of here before this gets out of control. I really am trying to be a good guy here.”

      “Is that what you’re doing?” She’d tried to sound playful and did manage a smile to go with it, but the question rang through her mind with anguish.

      “Can’t fuck with the locals.” He put his hands on her shoulders and took a step back. She thought she heard the sound of Velco separating, but she might have been imagining it. “Tomorrow. Lunch, and then you can hang out at the garage while I tune up your car.”

      Maureen followed him to the door. “I’ll be ready.”

      “Good.” After he opened the door, he kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pulled the door closed behind him, leaving her staring at it.

      Can’t fuck with the locals? What did that mean?

      * * * *

      Bear backed the Satellite out of the driveway. Early evening again. Maybe not for her, but nine o’clock was pretty early for him to end a date.

      If he hadn’t ended this date when he had, he would have to regretted it. Damn, two days into this charade and it was already rubbing him raw.

      He wanted her. In fact, he was starting to think he wanted her every day, morning, noon and night in a permanent, legal kind of way. Lust was part of it. That cute little bob and flowered turtleneck look covered a hot chick. The body, the responses, the innocent delight in her eyes. Such a turn on. Way past the fuck-me heels and nothing left to the imagination cleavage he was usually treated to.

      Another component too. One that upped the ante into something he didn’t recognize. This settled quiet, a calm center. There had to be a word for what she had, but he didn’t know it. She knew who she was. Really knew.

      That went well beyond the fact that she didn’t know who Rick Allen was. Which meant she might not know who he was. Not that he was in the same league, but she wasn’t going to know anything about his band. She seemed to be clueless about any pop culture that didn’t impact little kids. A quick scan of her living room while she’d been in the kitchen had revealed lots of dinosaur books, a coffee table book on Disney World and a stack of gardening magazines. She didn’t appear to own a single compact disk. Not even a soundtrack.

      If he’d told her who he was last night when she walked into the garage, she probably would have cocked her head, told him it must be interesting and asked if he could still fix her brakes. He’d really screwed himself there. If he’d just ’fessed up in the first place, he could have been doing all this aboveboard and maybe had a chance at something real. But no, he’d decided to be a genius and pretend to be someone he wasn’t. Someone ordinary. Now if he told her who he was, she’d think he was either insane or a liar.

      Tony and Pam would have killed him if he hadn’t come home tonight. They might anyway. Watching Maureen with that little girl today, Bear could see why they wanted her to be Nicky’s teacher. The kid had come at her out of left field and she’d been nice and attentive. Not at all bothered by them bugging her on her day off. Nicky would shine under that influence. If Bear got in too deep with Maureen, she wouldn’t be teaching Nicky. She’d said dating the father of a student was an ethical violation. Dating an uncle probably was too.

      He’d rolled his own loaded dice and still managed to get snake eyes.

      * * * *

      Maureen peeked down the hall to the garage and tried to figure out what she was doing here. The obvious reason—getting her car tuned up. Important regular maintenance. Then there was the less obvious. Hanging out with Michael.