Complicated Girl (Baker Street Romance #2)(4)
Author: Mimi Strong

I feel the way I did the first time I watched Dirty Dancing.

Drew keeps looking at me like he feels it, too.

Yes, this attraction is real, and it’s bigger than both of us.

Chapter 3

My insides are fluttering for the second time of the day when the formal part of tonight’s session ends.

We have twelve members present tonight, but they sound like three times as many when they stampede to the back table for refreshments. Everyone dives into the snacks and thermos of half-decaffeinated (or half-caffeinated, if you’re an optimist) coffee.

The cinnamon buns are a hit. As usual, people joke about calling our little group Carbohydrate Lovers Anonymous.

Abbie wields a shining spatula, her big grin taking ten years off her face. “I’m Abbie, and I’m a Carboholic! Oh, Meenie, you spoil us so good.”

The object of my Patrick-Swayze-like affection, Drew, pauses mid-pour of a half-decaf. His brown eyes twinkle as he says to Abbie, “Excuse me, but did you just call this nice girl a meanie?”

Abbie excavates cinnamon buns and distributes them on paper plates. “She’s Meenie with two E’s.” She blinks at me, frowning. “Sorry, love, I don’t remember if that’s your real name or a nickname. Is it ethnic? You don’t look ethnic to me, but I don’t see color. I adore everyone. Unlike my sister, who has a problem with the kinds of ethnic people working at the seniors facility.”

Feather interrupts to remind Abbie that we don’t talk about our big issues during the coffee chat. This time is supposed to be for pleasantries only.

After Feather leaves the area, Drew walks right over to me and leans in close. Is he smelling my hair? He’s practically touching his beautiful chiseled cheekbone to mine.

His voice low and rumbling, he murmurs, “Did you hear that? We’d better stick to pleasantries, or we’ll get in trouble.” He leans back and gives me another dimpled grin. “She runs a tight ship.”

“But she is a great coach. You made a good choice coming here. She’ll definitely help you with your issues, which are…”

He gives me a devious look. “You’re trying to get me in trouble.”

I roll my eyes. “I know you’re not here for booze or gambling, because there are dedicated groups down the hall.”

He brings the paper cup of watered down coffee up to his lips and takes a sip. This gives me a special moment to enjoy looking at his mouth, which is certainly no disappointment.

Around us, everyone chatters happily over the food and coffee. I look up at the top of Drew’s head, at his lush, dark brown hair. Unlike Duncan, there’s nothing short about him. I have to look way up at him, so he’s well over six feet tall. The impeccable dark blue suit makes him look even taller.

I turn away to grab a bottle of orange juice from the table. When I turn back around, I see he’s followed me.

He moves toward me, his elbows nudging out at his sides to make him wide like a wall. I step back. He grins and keeps moving, tacking from side to side.

“Are you herding me?” I ask.

“Woof.”

I keep backing up, terrified that if I stop moving, he’ll collide into me and I’ll spontaneously cl**ax from his touch and let out embarrassing coitus moans. I haven’t known the lust of a man in quite some time, let alone a HOTTT with 3 T’s man.

“I’m not a sheep,” I tell him. “I’m the opposite of a sheep, or lamb, or whatever. I’m very opinionated, and I have a unique sense of humor that most guys can’t handle.”

He keeps herding me, pushing me away from the herd. “Woof.”

He doesn’t stop until we’re by the window, overlooking the courtyard. The sun has set, and the shrubs and garden are brightly lit by security lights and strings of white fairy lights.

I stop with my back to the window. There’s nowhere left to go.

He looks down at my chest with interest. This low cut shirt I borrowed from my mother’s closet is really pulling some interest today.

Huskily, he says, “How long do pleasantries usually last?”

I clear my throat and try to look coy. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who goes to self-help groups to pick up chicks with low self esteem.”

“What if I am? That sounds like a lot more fun than my usual Tuesday nights, which involve earplugs. Would you like it if I was that kind of guy?”

His words stir conflicting emotions in me. I’m definitely in a pit of low self esteem, and I’d love to have Drew’s gorgeous arms reach down and pull me out. I can’t see his arms through his suit jacket, but I know they’re bound to be as perfect as the rest of him.

He sips his coffee again, wincing at the taste. “What is this, chicory?”

“My sister says all coffee tastes like a goat’s backside, even the good stuff.”

He glances over at the group, then back at me. The gesture makes me feel like I’m the most interesting person in the room. He keeps gazing into my eyes, until I feel like the most interesting person in the whole world.

“You have a sister? What’s that like?”

“I love my sister. She’s also my best friend.” I unscrew the cap from my orange juice bottle and raise it to my mouth.

He licks his lips, then says, “If your sister’s half as pretty as you, she must be a knockout.”

I choke on his compliment. Literally. The orange juice in my mouth has nowhere to go. I expel the juice from my mouth, spraying it all over Drew’s crisp jacket and equally crisp dress shirt.

He doesn’t back away or flinch. He nods his head down to one side, sticks out his tongue, and licks a few beads of orange juice from his shoulder.

“A much better choice than the coffee,” he says.

“That juice was in my mouth.”

“Should I be worried? Where else has your mouth been?”

A warm sensation creeps up my body and through my neck. The warm feeling extends to my cheeks. Am I sick? What’s happening? Oh my goodness, I’m blushing. It’s such an unusual sensation. I never blush.

This guy is making me blush, with his sexy smoldering brown eyes, and his innuendo about where my mouth has been.

He doesn’t seem at all concerned about the orange juice that’s settling into his expensive suit. His gaze doesn’t stray much from my face, except to move down to my cle**age and then back up again. He’s watching me like he’s a bounty hunter and I’ve got a million-dollar contract on my head.