A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,45

dad’s room and crept up to his window.

Sheer curtains made it impossible to see clearly inside, but they were just barely open down the center creating a slit that she could see through. That was the exact moment she realized what a god must look like.

Cruz stood at his dresser with a towel around his waist. His dark hair and muscular shoulders glistened in the low light of his room as he searched for an item of clothing. Probably underwear, she realized. Heat spread up her neck. What was she doing?

She stood back and pretended not to have seen him when she knocked softly. He walked over, his blurred image getting closer and closer. She could still run. It wasn’t too late.

Then the curtains were open and his smile hit her like a nuclear bomb.

He raised the window, crossed his arms over his bare chest, and leaned against the frame. “If it isn’t Aurora Dawn Vicram. What brings you to the boonies?”

A grin she couldn’t have stopped with a restraining order spread across her face. “I have a proposition.”

He covered his incredible pecs with his hands, and asked, “Are you here to take advantage of me?”

She snorted. “No. Another kind of proposition.”

“Oh, well, come in anyway.” He gestured her inside, and while climbing into a window seemed great in theory, it was anything but.

He had to reach out and lift her over the sill as it dug into her shins. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he slid her inside where they fell back onto his bed, her on top.

She stilled and waited, making sure his dad didn’t come in.

“You know my dad can’t hear us,” he said, his voice hushed regardless and oddly strained.

Cruz’s dad was deaf, not that he let that stop him.

They waited a moment longer and Auri got to study Cruz’s strong features up close and personal. His eyes shimmered under spiked lashes, but they were red.

She giggled softly and asked, “How long were you in the shower?”

“Not long, why?”

“Your eyes are red.”

He turned his head and squeezed them with a thumb and index finger, then sniffed and said, “Allergies.”

“Are you sure? Your voice seems a bit scratchy.” She lifted a hand to his forehead.

He flashed her a nuclear smile, but it came on the heels of a momentary frown, almost as if he were hiding something. “I’m good. Better now.”

She’d been so focused on herself and her own silly life, she hadn’t picked up on the fact that Cruz did seem a bit different lately. Quieter. More reserved than usual. Which, for Cruz, was saying a lot.

“Cruz, is something going on?”

“You mean besides the hottie lying on top of me getting wet?”

“Hottie?” she asked, stunned. When he only grinned, his gaze traveling over her face, his words sank in. “Oh, right, sorry.” She started to squirm off, but he put a hand on her butt and held her to him.

“Hold on a sec. Don’t move just yet.”

Something powerful washed over her when his hand caressed her ass. A warmth spread throughout her body and pooled in her lower abdomen. “Why?”

“Well, I didn’t want to alarm you, but do you remember when I was helping you inside and we fell on the bed?”

“So, like, thirty seconds ago?”

“Yeah, my towel fell off.”

She went completely still, afraid to move. “You mean you’re … you’re naked?”

He nodded.

“Underneath me?”

He nodded again.

“What do we do?” she whispered, and the corners of his mouth formed the most breathtaking grin she’d ever seen. Part humor and part sensuality.

“I figure we have two options.”

“Okay,” she said, her pulse quickening with each sweep of his gaze across her face. Like she was beautiful. Like she could complement the likes of him.

“You can take off your clothes and join me—”

She sucked in a soft breath.

“—or you can close your eyes and roll off me. I promise to get dressed quickly.”

Without the slightest hint of hesitation, she squeezed her eyes shut and rolled.

He laughed and rose off the bed.

She heard him rummage through his dresser, then walk to his closet where a soft swoosh of material echoed in the room.

“Okay,” he said.

She sat up, lowered her hands, and lifted her lashes to find him in a pair of black gym shorts and an army-green T-shirt.

“Is that what you sleep in?” she asked.

“Depends on what’s clean.” He sat beside her. Close beside her. His warmth seeped into her skin. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“Oh, right.” She’d almost forgotten. “When we were helping my grandparents today, Sybil and