“You mean you don’t remember?” She shook out a paper napkin and plastic cutlery and set them in front of him. “And here it was such a life-altering moment for me.”
Josie took a crab leg, snapped it, and sat down in the chair next to him, feeling her mouth water. It had been a long day at the hospital and she’d skipped lunch. She took a healthy bite.
“Cute,” he said, pushing his bowl of strawberries away. “But I didn’t say anything.”
“You said lots of things.” Josie wiped her chin with a napkin. “Like suggesting I call Tim Sheinberg to take over for me since I’m not qualified.”
If she had expected him to deny it or be embarrassed, she was disappointed.
He just shrugged. “Is that all? That’s true.”
Tempted to shove a strawberry up his nose, she snorted. “I amsoqualified to give stitches. I’m qualified to do an entire range of orthopedic procedures a million times more complicated than pulling a shark tooth out of your leg.”
So much for staying cheerful and friendly.
Houston stared at the table, his lip twitching, and she realized he was trying not to laugh.
She could fix that. “But after that uncomplimentary statement you went and told me how pretty you think I am.” That got a better reaction.
The bronze muscles in Houston’s bare shoulders tensed, his arm flexed. The vein running down to his elbow bulged as he shot her a wary glance. “Oh, really?”
“Really.” If he denied it, she’d skip the berry and go right to her fist in his nose.
Houston had brought out an unknown violent streak in her.
But the man just shrugged again, eyes dropping to her chest. “That’s true, too.”
It made her feel like she had been fishing for a compliment.
“Just eat your crab.” She grabbed a paper plate out of the bag and slapped a crab leg in front of Houston. “I hope you’re hungry, there’s a ton here. I didn’t judge very well.”
Houston’s hand landed on her waist as she leaned over the table and fussed with the food, cutting crab on his plate with the plastic knife and fork. She ignored him and sawed urgent little pieces, sending the crab leg sliding around in its buttery juices.
“You’re very pretty.” The cool air of the kitchen hit her skin as he lifted her T-shirt. His breath drizzled across her waist and she stiffened, holding the plastic fork so tight she snapped a tine off in the crab. “Sexy, really. Edible.”
“Shoot.” Josie reached forward, fishing around for the lost piece of plastic as Houston’s lips landed on her flesh.
The fork went skittering right out of her hand, crab still attached to it, and crashed to a halt on the screen of Houston’s phone.
She stepped away from the kiss that was rapidly turning into nuzzling. “Stop that.”
“Why?” He tugged on the edge of her shirt, trying to pull her back.
“Because you said one night, remember? We’re trying to be just friends, remember?” This wasn’t working. How could she resisthim when every time she looked at him there was sexual promise hovering in his blue eyes?
“That was your idea. When you suggested we have a string of one-nighters, I agreed. I just asked for a week to recover.”
“But I changed my mind and decided that you were right. Now I’m trying to be a friend, to help you like your mother asked me to until you feel better, so be good.”
“You want to know what would make me feel better?”
Since it probably involved a laundry list of sexual positions a man with a leg injury could do, she didn’t want to hear it. “No.”
He laughed and popped a piece of crab into his mouth. “But then you’re not fulfilling your promise to my mother. She asked you to help me. And I have some requests.”
That sounded dangerous. And it looked even worse, given the glint in his eye and the unmistakable smirk crossing his face.
Sitting down so she wouldn’t singe him from the heat radiating off her shorts like a space heater, she chewed her lip. “Why? What do you want?”