Sandcastle Beach (Matchmaker Bay #3) - Jenny Holiday Page 0,89

maybe she was working through her own brain jumble. “I meant…a different kind of not talking.”

Oh. Oh, shit.

“Ahh!” She shrieked and grabbed for him, because he’d started to fall down the stairs. Her statement had caused him to rear back, not in revulsion, which he supposed rearing back usually signified, but because he was just so shocked.

But he needed to get over himself, because every cell in his body wanted him to get his ass inside and start not talking.

He grabbed the railing and pushed himself up to stand next to her. There wasn’t enough room on the small landing for two people to fit comfortably, but that was fine because when had she ever made him comfortable? He let himself brush against her as he leaned past her to unlock the door. She sucked in a breath, held it, and looked up at him with what he could only describe as bedroom eyes. He’d heard that phrase before and thought it ridiculous, but nope, turned out it was a real thing. Her pupils were blown, and her eyelids drooped a little. But then she opened her mouth, like she was going to talk. As he pushed the door open with one hand and pointed inside, he laid the palm of his other hand across her mouth—gently, because he didn’t want to seem like, say, a deranged kidnapper. He just wanted to get a message across. She’d said she wanted to go inside and not talk, and unless she had changed her mind, that was damn well what they were going to do.

Chapter Seventeen

Hooboy.

Maya sucked in a breath as Ben pressed against her from behind.

It was pretty clear what was going to happen, but as was becoming their custom, there was no frantic coming together, no crashing of mouths, no tearing off of clothes. They were still turning the warship, maybe?

When Ben laid a hand over her mouth, it made all the little hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and a clenching sensation take hold between her legs. His hand was resting against her so lightly, it almost tickled. She wanted to put her own hands over his and press down, increase the pressure.

Interesting.

She wanted him to touch her, to really touch her. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to jump him.

Even more interesting.

But no. He was being cool, with his smooth, understated pointing gesture. He wanted her to go inside. He took his hand off her mouth. She wanted it back.

Extremely interesting.

He was holding the door for her. What could she do but walk through it?

She entered the dark apartment and made for the living room. She heard him throw his keys on the kitchen counter, and the snick of the little lamp he had on a sideboard in the dining room as he turned it on. She was pretty sure he’d passed a switch for the overhead light on his way in. That must have been intentional, right? Mood lighting?

What now? She made her way to the window, like she always did, to look out at her apartment. There were no lights on. She could feel her mind starting to fire up, wondering if Holden was there, already asleep, or if he was out doing something guaranteed to be bad news for Much Ado and therefore for her.

She should turn off her brain.

She laid her forehead on the glass. In her mind, the pane was going to be cold. Like, it was going to cool her feverish mind or something. But no. It was August.

If she wanted to turn her brain off, how would she do that? Her theatrical training suggested the answer was to get out of her head and tune into her body. God knew she’d sat through enough “relax your toes, relax your ankles, et cetera, et cetera” exercises in her day. Was there a part of her that was tense that she could make a conscious effort to relax?

Yes. Her lungs. Her ribs. She could get this corset off. It had been bugging her all evening and now, suddenly, it was torture. She reached around to try to undo the bow. She wasn’t even sure if she could get it off by herself.

Well, she didn’t have to get it off by herself, did she? That had been the whole point of coming up here. She could kill two birds with one stone—a sexual overture and the ability to breathe!

She lifted her head off the windowpane and turned. Ben was