Read Entwine for Free Online Page B

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    Sarah really had to wonder at that moment if he was gay, but she deduced she couldn’t be this attracted to him if he were. He must have known how sexy his confidence was to a woman. To her.
    “Go on, spin for me,” she insisted.
    He nodded once, tight-lipped, as if secretly impressed, and spun. For that second, she unashamedly could gawk at his ass. It wasn’t flat, but shaped. Even through the relatively loose material, it hinted at the cupped figure of his cheeks and on the sides, as it rode with the indents.
    It felt like the longest second of her life.
    He stopped, facing her again, with his hands shoved in his pockets. Her sight scattered between the broadness of his shoulders and the way the shirt contoured with his body, and how his thighs were thick, and capable, and how his legs seemed long.
    She wiped those thoughts and then said, “Looks good.”
    “Done,” was his reply, and he turned and shut himself back in the cubicle before she could ask what he meant or if he liked them.
    When he came out, he was back in his old work clothes, which looked just as good. He crushed the new shirt and pants in his fist. He paid at the desk, and the price that rung up made Sarah choke on nothing at all. She doubted he fell for her, “Sorry, I swallowed my chewy” excuse. This man seemed to be in tune to the finer details. That’s something other dates would fall for, which she realised then was odd, because she’d known them for a few weeks, and this guy for only an hour.
    “Did you like them, though?”
    Sarah had to ask. Along with finding out his name, he was making her curious. Why was his hair hot and short, like he’d had an army buzz cut? Why were his eyes so damn brown? Who was he? She had questions like those.
    “I did,” he said in a courteous tone.
    “Oh, okay.”
    While walking to another mystery destination, he turned his attention fully on her. She was as impressed as she was worried. There was an after-work rush but his eyes didn’t waver from hers as others pushed by them.
    She said, “You didn’t seem to be interested in them, or comment, so I wasn’t sure.”
    “If you like them, I trust they’re good enough.”
    “Good enough? For?”
    Again, he didn’t answer her, but he took her to the food court and refused her money while he stood in line at a store, instead telling her to find a table. When he joined her, he slid her coffee across the table into her open, waiting cupped hands.
    “Good enough to impress you if you’d like to go watch a movie with me.”
    Just as she was about to take a sip he spoke, and by the time he’d said his piece, she had a mouthful. Which she spurted out when he said what he did.
    She’d been waiting for that.
    She wanted to ask the question herself.
    And now he’d said it, she’d choked on her hot coffee, and sprayed it all over him.
    Her cheeks flushed. She grabbed a napkin and started to clean the table, and the heat through the flimsy paper was unbearable.
    “Oh, sorry! Sorry!”
    Sarah got up and used the remaining napkins to take to him and fuss over the stains and wetness on his shirt. Why did she have to do this good a job at embarrassing herself and spraying him? His shirt was covered in the same way splattered blood would have coated him if he’d stabbed someone. Except, this was hot and brown, and he must have been burnt. With a fistful of napkins, she patted down the front and swiped down to his belt buckle. His hands came up to pat her away, but this wasn’t fine. His hands were telling her to go, that it was okay, but she’d messed this up so bad. Now he’d have to make up an excuse that she couldn’t bear to hear, and leave.
    She had to keep him busy, so she threw the napkins on the table and patted down his shirt again, which was tucked into his pants. She swiped over the upper top of his thighs in case they were wet, but the table had protected him down there.
    Down. There.
    It was right then, with her hand hovering above