old for you, and you’re too...too—” she waved a hand at him “—sculpted and hip.”
“Sculpted and hip?” He leaned his head against the seat, a deep belly laugh welling up within. “That’s the strangest word combination ever.”
“Stop,” she said, punching him on the arm. “You know what I mean. We’re from two different worlds. This is a Volvo.”
Dez couldn’t stop laughing. Her reasons were so funny. He was sculpted and she drove a Volvo?
“Dez,” she said, her eyes plaintive.
He stopped, pressing his lips closed. “Huh?”
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because you’re funny...and beautiful...and I really want to kiss you.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. “You do?”
He clasped the back of her neck, drawing her to him. Her hair was silk, her neck small. She came to him willingly, breathing notched up. With his right hand, he brushed an errant strand of hair from where it stuck to her lip gloss. Wild horses couldn’t drag him from kissing Eleanor.
With his lips hovering close to hers, he stared her straight in the eye. “I wanna kiss you ’cause I totally dig old ladies.”
Her mouth fell open just as he intended and he took full advantage.
“Mmm,” she said, struggling for only a moment before succumbing. Desire, hot and heavy, raised its head in his belly. She tasted like spring rain, healing and fresh. Cupping her jaw, he drank from her, thrilling when her tongue met his. Pulling her closer, he embraced the essence of Eleanor...and wanted more.
She broke the kiss, pulling back, her breath quick and her eyes clouded with passion.
“I’m not an old lady,” she breathed, her eyes crackling. “And if this is some crazy ‘needing a mother’ thing, climb out, buddy.”
“You think I’d kiss my mother like that?”
“God, I hope not,” she said, swallowing hard and looking out the window, avoiding his gaze. She pressed a hand to her chest and sucked in a deep breath. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“You didn’t. I kissed you.”
Her eyes met his. “But—”
“I kissed you because you’re all I’ve been thinking about since last night, because you’re beautiful, desirable and sexy...even if you are a few years ahead of me. You think age matters that much?”
She searched his gaze. “It should.”
“Age is a number.”
She gave a wry chuckle. “Spoken like a man who brushes convention aside.”
“I brush aside what doesn’t make sense. You’re a woman. I’m a thirty-year-old man. Not a kid.”
“God, this is silly. Let’s go get that drink and slow this down a little.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m thirsty,” she said, tugging on the door handle. “By the way, I hope you have your fake ID.”
He opened his door. “What?”
Her teasing gaze met his over the top of the car roof and he caught a taste of a mischievous Eleanor. “I’m not contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”
“If you’re going to contribute to the delinquency of a minor, I’d rather it be for something more exciting than a tequila shot.”
“Yeah?” She arched one eyebrow.
“Oh, lady, you’re so in trouble.”
Eleanor shook her head. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
He gave her his best charming smile. “We’re just having a drink. Relax, okay?”
“Feels dangerous, Dez. Like we should stop this right now.”
“But where’s the fun in that?”
CHAPTER FOUR
TRE STARED AT CICI sprawled on the couch and shook his head. Passed out in the middle of the day, which meant she hadn’t gotten Shorty D up for school. More important, it meant she’d missed work again, and this time the manager of the Pet Pro wouldn’t give Cici the benefit of the doubt. Three strikes and you’re out. That’s how it worked in life. Everywhere.
He kicked the couch. “Get up, Cici. You missin’ work.”
She didn’t move.
“Cici,” he said, kicking harder. Twice. Three times.
“Mmmf...” she groaned, throwing an arm over her face. She still wore the clothes she’d gone out to the club in—a bright blue skintight shirt and a skirt that rode over her thin thighs. “Damn, Tre, I tryin’ to sleep.”
“You missed work. Kenzie’s been crying for an hour straight, and it’s my damn day off. I shouldn’t have to do your job for you.”
Cici smacked her lips and groaned, rolling over as if she could hide from his words. “I don’t give a shit. I’m sleepin’, bitch.”
“Bitch?” he said, anger curling in his gut. “That’s all you got to say to me? Callin’ me a bitch?”
Cici didn’t say nothing. Just nestled into the back of the couch, dismissing him. She was still drunk. Probably high, too. He beat down the fury inside because Kenzie needed to be dealt with. Along with