Claws & Crochet

Part 21

ZOEY

I'm tempted to ask more, but I don't want to keep Warner from what looks like a family gathering.

"Well, so far I have nothing bad to say about you all. Especially since you're helping me out with this jig saw."

That earns me a genuine smile, and he pulls open a metal cabinet drawer to come out holding the beautiful, versatile saw. The fact that it's a lime green color only delights me more.

"You're a life saver. I owe you."

"Really? What exactly do you owe me? What's this saw worth to you?" Warner holds the tool just out of reach, tempting me to step closer to him.

This is flirting. I know it is. And I should run the other direction. But I can't help moving in closer.

"You're doing me a favor, so I owe you a favor. What that entails, is up to you." I hold my hands out and he relinquishes the saw. "But honestly, I think me holding this in your presence should be payment enough. What with women and power tools being the sexiest thing you can imagine."

His eyes get darker while I taunt him with his previous claims.

"I—" he starts, but I don't get to hear the end of his thought.

"We're out of here," Tanya yells.

Warner frowns and strides out of the room. I follow.

"What do you mean we?"

Tanya tucks her phone in her back pocket and tosses a jacket at the younger man. "Isaac and I are heading out."

"Where are you taking him?" Warner glares. "We were going to watch football."

"Too bad. Mom said she'd lend Isaac the car and he promised to drive me to Cheyenne's party."

"Why would you promise that?" Warner faces his brother. "You hate parties."

Isaac shrugs, but his sister answers for him.

"Because there's a girl," Tanya explains.

"A girl?"

"Shut up," Isaac mutters.

"That's right. Shut up and get your own twin." Tanya reaches up to pat her older brother on the head before strolling out the door. "Nice to meet you, Zoey!" She calls, once she's out of sight.

"You too," I call out then turn to Isaac. "And you."

The guy gives me a half smile and nod, then turns to Warner. "Sorry, but I did promise. Just forgot what night it was. Raincheck?"

"Yeah, fine. Go keep her out of trouble."

Without the two younger siblings, his apartment suddenly seems very quiet. I stand awkwardly, cradling the saw against my chest.

And for the first time, Warner's smile appears forced.

"Well," he clears his throat. "I guess you've got places to be."

That's it. No way can I leave this man to watch football alone, abandoned by his brother.

"Are the Broncos playing?"

Something sparks in his eyes.

"Yeah. Are you a fan?"

I shrug. "Hard to live in Denver and not be. But the cabin doesn't have cable, so I can't really keep up. Mind if I stay to watch?"

Warner's mouth bobs open, then he practically carries me to the couch, ushering with his long arms that I should take a seat.

"Do you want something to eat? I've got snacks." He offers a bowl of pretzels.

After setting the saw down I scoop up a handful.

"Do you want a beer?" He's already in front of the fridge, as if I'll leave if he doesn't give me libations fast enough.

Alcohol is a special occasion thing for me. It doesn't always react well with my medication.

"Do you have soda or something?"

"Dr. Pepper okay?" Warner holds up one of the red cans, and I reach over the back of the couch to accept it.

"Look at you, biker boy. How'd you know that's my favorite?"

Amber eyes flick between me and the can in his hand, and a satisfied smile pulls at the corners of his mouth as he passes the drink over.

"Not sure, mystery woman. Maybe it's fate."

I snort, getting comfy on the surprisingly soft couch. "Soda is not fate."

The refreshing crack and sigh of me popping open the can almost drowns out his next words. At least, I tell myself it does, because I'm not sure I want to acknowledge what I just heard.

Something that sounded an awful lot like we might be.