Jingle Bell: Rock Part 11

Valerie stared at the panties dangling in her hand, wondering what to do with them, when she heard the clank of a tool hit the concrete bas.e.m.e.nt floor and Earl's voice hiss out a m.u.f.fled curse.

In her hurry, and at a loss for a better idea, she tossed the thong in the refrigerator and yanked her dress back down. Then she grabbed the wine and headed downstairs. She was almost afraid to poke her head in the furnace room.

"Everything okay in there?"

Earl spun around, and she had to admit he looked exceptionally pleased to see her. He also looked exceptionally attractive. She wondered if he could tell she'd ditched her underpants.

"Fine." She watched him wipe his brow, then toss a wrench into the toolbox. He sighed heavily.

"All fixed?" Valerie walked toward him, holding out the crystal winegla.s.s. She saw his eyes go wider with each step she took.

His fingers cupped hers as he took the goblet. They lingered there a second longer than necessary.

"I'm afraid your unit needs a part," he said, and she could have sworn he raised one eyebrow at her in a kind of silent challenge.

"Oh, really?" Valerie returned to the stool, crossing her legs again, reclining back on one hand, shaking out her hair. "Is it a big part? Something important?"

"Very" was all Earl said. Then he leaned up against the steel support beam that ran from floor to ceiling, crossing his ankles, raising the gla.s.s to his lips.

"This is delicious." She watched one corner of his mouth crook up. "But I have to warn you-wine on an empty stomach makes me a little tipsy."

She couldn't help but laugh, and he joined her. She loved the sound of his laugh-deep and l.u.s.ty and reverberating off the roughed-in walls. She let the sound cover her like a protective blanket, warm and secure.

"So, Earl. Is that a backhanded way of telling me you'd like a little something to eat before you head out?"

His grin spread and he lowered his head in embarra.s.sment, a rich brown lock of hair spilling onto his brow. She'd always been a sucker for a man with a little bit of hair-enough to twirl in her ringers when they kissed, enough to grab onto during s.e.x.

"Guess so," he said, raising those deep blue eyes. "That is, if you wouldn't mind. Something sure smelled good when I came in here."

Valerie sighed. "All right. I guess I can heat up something for you. A man shouldn't go walking around hungry."

"No, ma'am," Earl said, straightening up. "Not a good way to go through life."

"Well, come on up, then." Valerie popped off the stool and felt him right behind her as she flicked off the light and headed up the steps. She heard his breath and the tap of his footsteps. She felt his heat. She knew d.a.m.n well that his eyes were plastered right on her b.u.t.t.

As they progressed step by step, Valerie told herself this was her chance. She could cross the line into bad-girl territory with one simple movement. She could do it. She could.

With a deep breath, Valerie stopped suddenly as if to adjust her high heel, knowing that the bending motion had given Earl a view he may not have antic.i.p.ated.

Still bent over, she looked back over her shoulder and smiled. The poor man looked stunned. He'd gone pale. He'd obviously just discovered her secret.

"Sorry," she whispered, fiddling with the shoe strap. "Something felt like it was poking into me."

Valerie watched Earl's Adam's apple take an up-and-down slide. Then he cleared his throat. "Oh, my G.o.d," he said.

Back in the kitchen, Earl seemed to regroup rather quickly, and offered to help her. Such a gentleman, she thought. Even when hungry. But she knew his motivation. She'd certainly seen the drill enough times to know how it was for men-food, then s.e.x.

"There are some leftovers in the fridge," she said.

"I'm not sure how microwaved leg of lamb tastes, but I think we're going to find out."

Earl laughed and put his hands on his hips. "Lamb? You made a leg of lamb just for yourself?"

Valerie shrugged.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean... it's just-" Earl ran a hand through his hair. "It's so special. So fancy. And leg of lamb is my all-time favorite. You must be a great cook."

She smiled at him. This man in her kitchen was cute, sweet and handy with mechanical things. She could get used to a man like that.

"I am, Earl," she said.

He smiled back, then opened the refrigerator, pulling out three Tupperware containers, the last of which was draped with a red satin thong.

He stared at it, a quizzical frown creasing his brow.

"Hmm," he said, picking it up between a thumb and forefinger, studying the scant strips of satin leading to a small red triangle. "Quite festive, Ms. Matthews."

Valerie felt her face burn with what she knew was a combination of delight and embarra.s.sment-and the delight was winning out. She'd been quite the brazen hussy this evening. She was kind of proud of herself.

Then Earl placed the thong on his head, pulling the stringy side panels down under his chin. "Did one of Santa's elves lose his hat?"

She burst out laughing. He looked utterly goofy.

"No, wait," he said, looping the underwear around his upper arm and holding it tight to his side. "An evening bag."

Earl began to sashay across the kitchen, one wrist limp.

She shook her head, still laughing. She absolutely loved this guy's sense of humor-how lucky could she get? What were the chances?

Then Earl stopped. He moved the thong down to the crotch of his d.i.c.kie's and stretched it wide across his hips, shaking his head with disappointment.

"Nope. Wouldn't fit. I'm an extra-large." He raised his gaze to hers and grinned.

"Really?" Valerie leaned against the counter and folded her arms across her chest, suddenly noticing that she wasn't quite as cold as she'd been a few moments ago. The house was starting to feel comfy.

"Okay, maybe I lied," Earl said, balling up the thong. He shoved it in his pants pocket and gave it a pat. "My size is actually extra, extra-large."

A still-grinning Earl opened the Tupperware lids and leaned down to scan the contents. She saw his face light up. "This looks delicious, Valerie. Really." He shot her a sideways glance. "Got any mint chutney to go with?"

Chapter Four.

As succulent as the lamb was-and it was mighty succulent-Earl couldn't focus on eating. All he could think about was the woman across the table from him, and the sweet little slice of heaven he'd glimpsed under the hem of her dress.

How tender she'd looked. How mysterious all the swirls and shadows seemed. How he'd longed to run a finger up the inside of her thigh and press into that wet valley of flesh.

In his opinion, there was nothing as erotic as a newly found woman. Unexplored territory. Fresh female.

Earl took a gulp of wine and studied the stroke of luck sitting just arm's length away. Valerie Matthews sat calmly, bathed in candlelight, like she hadn't tossed her panties in the fridge and given him a peek at paradise on the bas.e.m.e.nt steps. Women could be so cruel.

But d.a.m.n, they could be fun.

And he liked this one. Oh, he liked this one just fine.

"So, Earl, how long have you been a furnace repairman?" Valerie dabbed at the corner of her luscious lips with a white linen napkin and leaned back in her chair, her smile reflected in those evergreen eyes.

"Not long," he said. "And it's HVAC technician, actually. Heating, ventilation, and air-conditioning. I do it all."

"You don't say."

As Valerie absently toyed with her gla.s.s, it dawned on Earl that she'd eaten a hearty portion of everything, though she'd obviously had dinner an hour or so earlier. Not that there was anything wrong with a woman with a healthy appet.i.te.

He also noted she'd barely touched her wine. Maybe she was afraid a little alcohol would make her lose control. It wouldn't be the first time a woman in his presence met that fate.

Earl sighed. She'd draped her shawl on the back of the chair a moment ago, and the view of her sculpted collarbones, smooth shoulders and slim arms was now un.o.bstructed. Valerie Matthews was all green eyes, red dress, and porcelain skin. She was a Christmas ornament made of flesh and bone.

Earl placed his napkin on the table and smiled at her.

"I want to thank you for this, Ms. Matthews. It was real nice of you."

She returned his smile, tilting her head just a bit. The curls brushed her shoulder. "It's my pleasure." She lowered her gaze, staring at her hands-smooth, narrow hands, he noted.

"You're actually pretty good company." Valerie raised her head again. "Things were looking pretty grim earlier tonight."

Her expression held so much yearning that Earl forgot to breathe.

They stared at each other a long, hot moment before he could get his lungs to work again. And as he fiddled with the tablecloth, he hoped desperately that she couldn't tell how much he wanted her, how she'd gotten to him.

"I know this sounds strange, but have we met before?"

Earl's head snapped up at the question, only to be met by a mysterious grin that teased him. Challenged him. Earl felt himself being drawn in by that grin-and the challenge.

And right then he had to stop himself from laughing out loud, because it was obvious where this evening was headed. He really was going to get this Valerie Matthews naked, her beautiful, long legs spread open, waiting for him, on the floor in front of the fire. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind.

A small voice that he immediately identified as his conscience began to whisper in his brain. It asked him what kind of man walked into a woman's house on Christmas Eve with an ulterior motive like that? What kind of man wormed his way into a hot meal and a hot babe on what was supposed to be a service call?

"I think maybe," he said, knowing full well they had. "At a private party given by some people I know. You catered it. Quite a few years ago, I think."

She nodded. "Ah-ha! Thought so. I never forget a face, Earl."

"I sure never forgot yours, Ms. Matthews."

Or the rest of her, for that matter.

She raised one eyebrow and ran a fingertip around the rim of her winegla.s.s. "Hmm." She c.o.c.ked her head. "I was wondering-"

"Yes?" Earl felt his pulse race. How bold would she be? How blunt would she get?

"Do you want me-"

"Yes."

"-to serve dessert?"

Boy, did he feel stupid. "That would be nice," was the only thing he could think to say.

She offered him a flirty little smile and cleared her throat. "Um, in case you were wondering, I'm... uh... not dating anyone special."

Valerie then used her eyes instead of words to ask the next logical question, and Earl had to laugh. It never ceased to amaze him how women could carry on a conversation without using actual words.

"Nope," he said. "Me either."

Her emerald eyes twinkled. "How about that dessert, Earl? I made a lemon custard tart."

His mouth fell open, then slammed shut. "Hot d.a.m.n," he whispered.

Everything she'd prepared had been outstanding, even reheated. This woman was batting a thousand in Earl's book-she could cook and she was beautiful, s.e.xy and sweet. Plus, she liked to run around without underwear-a definite bonus.

He watched her rise up from her chair and click-click her way across the kitchen to retrieve the dessert. She brought it into the dining room on a silver pedestal plate that she held directly in front of her luscious cleavage.

He knew she did that on purpose, but his mouth began to water anyway.

"I've always been partial to tarts," Earl said.

She tipped her head back and roared with laughter, and the sound of it rained down on him like a shower of stars. He was tempted to close his eyes, turn his face up toward the heavens, and let it cover him in sparkles.

Valerie wiped the tears from her eyes as she stopped laughing. "Why don't you make yourself useful and get the silver cake server out of the drawer? Second down, left of the sink."

He was up in a flash. By the time she got around to asking him to get two plates and two forks, he already stood behind her-holding two plates and two forks-feeling quite proud of himself.

His reward was her sweet smile and the touch of her hand on his right bicep-landing as soft as a snowflake. And though both her smile and her touch were warm, they sent chills through him. Earl knew they were chills of antic.i.p.ation.

As they ate dessert, he felt proud that he had her laughing hard just by telling stories about his work, his nosy neighbor Mr. Hurley, and his family-four wild brothers. He enjoyed listening to her talk about her catering business and the big-shot clients she had. Seems it was a fancy enterprise. Just like her.

Valerie sighed and leaned back in her chair with a contented smile. She looked like a queen, he decided, all serene beauty and grace. She looked like a woman who should be spoiled and treasured.

Earl couldn't help himself. In one fluid motion, he was up out of his chair and standing behind her. He reached down, down, feeling the heat pulse from her body as he grew closer. The scent of cinnamon and cloves and warm female slammed into his brain. And then-just like that-she was sheltered inside his arms.

He grabbed her dessert plate.

"I'll clean up," he said, turning with the dirty dishes and walking into the kitchen. "Do you think you could find some music that might motivate me?"