Center Stage
Page 8

He rubbed the back of his neck as he walked into the kitchen. It was already getting complicated. He should drop the whole thing, sit down in his chair, and watch some sports on ESPN. After all, that was why he had that enormous TV. Sports and MythBusters—explosions were always better in high-definition.
He could hear boxes slide across the floor. A glance at his TV made him feel guilty. He pulled four beers out of the refrigerator and stood there with the door open.
Alone in his little space wasn’t where he wanted to be. He wanted to be upstairs with her. Damn it!
The sound of feet on the stairs which led to the inside door of his apartment had his attention. Then there was a knock on the door. He walked across the room.
“Yes?”
“Can I open this?” Her voice was muffled from the other side.
“The door?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” How silly was it they were yelling through it? He unlocked his side. “My side is unlocked. Unlock your side.”
He heard the bold click, and Arianna pushed it open. “Cool.” She looked around the kitchen where he stood with four beers in his arms.
“You shouldn’t keep that door unlocked.”
The corner of her mouth lifted into a grin. “Are you afraid I might sneak down and attack you?”
There she went again, stirring him up. “No.” He shook his head. “What did you need?”
“Stupid question, but do you have a hammer, a screwdriver, and a wrench?”
“No.”
Her nose crinkled in the most amusing and cute way, but he kept his lips pursed and forced himself not to smile.
“Oh. I just thought…” She was flustered.
“I was kidding. Of course I have those. They are in my truck. Here.” He handed her the beers. “I’ll go out and get them. You take these upstairs.”
Arianna nodded, took the beers, and started up the steps which led to her own kitchen.
“Stop looking at my ass, Forrester.”
Guilt dropped like a lead balloon into the pit of his stomach. Again, that was exactly what he’d been doing.
When he walked through her back door, Arianna was on the floor going through a box. The contents were spread all over the floor.
“Shouldn’t you get your furniture in its place first, and then sort through the boxes?”
“I packed in a hurry. The boxes are mixed.”
“What needs to be fixed?”
Arianna looked at him with a look of confusion clouding her eyes, but when he shook his hammer in his hand, she bolted up to her feet.
“Oh, yeah. The bed needs to be assembled.”
Arianna started up the stairs to her bedroom, but John took a slower pace. He’d felt guilty enough putting the air mattress in there. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be in her bedroom.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he heard her moving boxes around. As he walked through the door, a pillow flew his way and he was merely quick enough to catch it before it hit him in the face.
“You seem out of sorts tonight,” Arianna said as she kicked a box into the corner.
“Do I?”
“Long day at the office, dear?”
Oh, she was playing with fire, and he was afraid he was the one getting burned in the process.
“It was a good day. Are these all the pieces?” He nodded toward the wall where the bed was stacked up.
“Yep. I want to sleep in my own bed tonight. I love that you set up the air mattress, but two nights is long enough. If we don’t get this together soon, I might have to sleep in your bed.”
She’d turned to gather another box in her arms and throw it in the corner, but he stood there with his mouth hung open, trying to make his heart beat normal.
He’d better get to work on that bed. There was no need to have Zach’s sister-in-law making comments like that and getting him all worked up.
One thing John would say, after nearly forty-five minutes of piecing together the bed, they were a good team. Arianna was a strong woman, physically. She never minded lifting something or doing the hard work, where most women would have grunted or complained.
“Looks like one sturdy bed,” John complimented, giving it a shake.
“Yes, well, those stupid movers put all the mattresses in the other room. So now I have to lug them over.”
“I’m here to help.”
“Good. And this time I promise to repay you, and you’ll let me buy you dinner.”
John tucked his thumbs into his front pockets. “You’re determined to do that, huh?”
“I am.”
“You know what sounds good? A steak on your grill.”
Her eyes opened wide. “I am not a good cook. Your steak is going to end up a burnt brick.”
He laughed. “I’ll let you buy ‘em. I’ll grill ‘em.”
“Let’s get this bed together first. Then we can make some deals.”
She walked past him, leaving her scent in her wake.
The mattresses were flat on the floor, which he knew would be a bitch to get up especially since they were king-sized mattresses. From the looks of them, she’d spared no expense, just as the heavy oak bed.
“We’d be best to attack them from one side, lift vertically, and then we can push them out the door.”
“Once we get over the stupid box springs.” She looked around the room. “I don’t remember this room being so small.”
“I think your mattresses are just that big.”
She laughed. “Pretty sad for a single gal, huh?”
“Space when you sleep is very important.”
“I sleep on one edge. Only one edge. When I wake up, all I have to do is pull up the cover on that side.”
This time he laughed. “I nearly have to start from scratch every morning. No wonder my wife left me. I must be a maniac when I sleep.”
“Hmmmm.” She turned as he looked at her, acknowledging the low hum that had resonated from her.
“C’mon. That cow ain’t gonna get here on its own. Let’s get this put together.”
John bent his knees and took his position. Arianna watched him and then bent over at the waist and took her position, after a very obvious butt shake. When he felt the heat rise in his cheeks, he knew she’d seen it by the grin that settled on her lips. Then she bent at the knees, and together they hefted the heavy mattress onto its end.