eyes on my ass, and grinned once I reached my closet. This skirt did things for my curves. Nice to be noticed. I could change in there without him seeing me, since I’d left the bedroom door open, and chose a bra-top cami and shorts to sleep in. First time he wouldn’t see me in full-coverage pajamas.
“Much better.” I flopped on the sofa and sat Indian-style. “What did you do tonight?”
“You’d find it boring.” He stared at the TV screen.
“What is?”
“Coding.”
“You bring work home with you? Slippery slope, Ricky.”
A shake of his head. “It’s not for work.”
“Oh. So, coding is fun for you?”
“Can be. Depends on the project.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t know how you can stare at ones and zeroes for hours.”
A little smile. “I wasn’t working in binary.”
“Huh?”
“Ones and zeroes. That’s binary code language.”
“Oh.” I cracked my toes. He flinched. Ha. “That stuff makes me feel very dumb.”
“You work with Excel.”
“Yeah, but the complicated stuff was already done by someone else. I just enter data into the appropriate fields.”
“Jess, you’re intelligent in other areas.”
“Thanks. I’d still like to know what you’re talking about sometimes.”
“Most people don’t even try to pretend.”
“Patrick, I’ve never found you boring.”
Color crept up his neck. “Thank you.” He stood. “Well, goodnight, Jess.”
“Sweet dreams.”
He went into his room and shut the door. Sighing, I stretched out on the sofa and turned on the news.
Chapter Nine
I came home late the rest of the week, people-watching with Matt at the coffee bar for an hour or so before heading home. Except today, Friday. It was movie night. This time, I wanted to try to get Patrick out of the house. He spent too many hours staring at a screen and it wasn’t healthy.
“Come on, bud, you and I are going outside. I made garlic parmesan popcorn and we’re sneakin’ it into a theater tonight.”
“Jess…”
“Unh-uh, no ‘Jess’ tonight. You need to do something besides work and work.”
“I go to the gym.”
“Not helping your cause, Ricky.” I grabbed his arm and tugged. “I’m not giving you an option here. Unless you’re deathly ill, you’re coming with me and seeing a movie.”
“Fine…” He opened the closet to get a coat, so I let go.
Hey, I wouldn’t put it past him to run into his room and lock the door.
He dragged his feet less as we got to my car. I had two equal-size bags of popcorn in my coat pockets. The nearest theater was a big one, with twenty screens.
Patrick tried to pay for himself. I wouldn’t allow that, either. “I made you come, I’m buying.”
“As you wish.” A sigh.
He couldn’t wear 3D glasses over those chunky frames he wore, so I stuck to standard presentation times, and chose a movie starting in thirty minutes. We walked right in, yay.
I dropped a bag of popcorn on his lap. “Want a soda or anything?”
“No. I don’t drink—”
“Yeah, I know, health nut.”
“Your body would thank you if you cut it out, too.”
“It’s not like I drink a lot of soda, geesh.”
He glanced around. “Not a lot of people, yet.”
“This came out two weeks ago, so there shouldn’t be a crowd.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll warn you now—don’t panic if I have to wipe my eyes. I’m sentimental.”
“Okay.”
“Some men freak out at women crying.”
“I can handle it for a movie.”
“Good.”
Then he passed me a handkerchief. I didn’t know men under sixty carried them. “Just in case.”
“Wise-ass.”
“Then I’ll take it back.”
“No.” I tucked it in my pocket. “No take back- sies .”
“Okay, Jess.” He was amused. It was subtle, unlike most people, but I’d learned his sense of humor after two and a half weeks.
“Tomorrow will be two weeks
“Much better.” I flopped on the sofa and sat Indian-style. “What did you do tonight?”
“You’d find it boring.” He stared at the TV screen.
“What is?”
“Coding.”
“You bring work home with you? Slippery slope, Ricky.”
A shake of his head. “It’s not for work.”
“Oh. So, coding is fun for you?”
“Can be. Depends on the project.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t know how you can stare at ones and zeroes for hours.”
A little smile. “I wasn’t working in binary.”
“Huh?”
“Ones and zeroes. That’s binary code language.”
“Oh.” I cracked my toes. He flinched. Ha. “That stuff makes me feel very dumb.”
“You work with Excel.”
“Yeah, but the complicated stuff was already done by someone else. I just enter data into the appropriate fields.”
“Jess, you’re intelligent in other areas.”
“Thanks. I’d still like to know what you’re talking about sometimes.”
“Most people don’t even try to pretend.”
“Patrick, I’ve never found you boring.”
Color crept up his neck. “Thank you.” He stood. “Well, goodnight, Jess.”
“Sweet dreams.”
He went into his room and shut the door. Sighing, I stretched out on the sofa and turned on the news.
Chapter Nine
I came home late the rest of the week, people-watching with Matt at the coffee bar for an hour or so before heading home. Except today, Friday. It was movie night. This time, I wanted to try to get Patrick out of the house. He spent too many hours staring at a screen and it wasn’t healthy.
“Come on, bud, you and I are going outside. I made garlic parmesan popcorn and we’re sneakin’ it into a theater tonight.”
“Jess…”
“Unh-uh, no ‘Jess’ tonight. You need to do something besides work and work.”
“I go to the gym.”
“Not helping your cause, Ricky.” I grabbed his arm and tugged. “I’m not giving you an option here. Unless you’re deathly ill, you’re coming with me and seeing a movie.”
“Fine…” He opened the closet to get a coat, so I let go.
Hey, I wouldn’t put it past him to run into his room and lock the door.
He dragged his feet less as we got to my car. I had two equal-size bags of popcorn in my coat pockets. The nearest theater was a big one, with twenty screens.
Patrick tried to pay for himself. I wouldn’t allow that, either. “I made you come, I’m buying.”
“As you wish.” A sigh.
He couldn’t wear 3D glasses over those chunky frames he wore, so I stuck to standard presentation times, and chose a movie starting in thirty minutes. We walked right in, yay.
I dropped a bag of popcorn on his lap. “Want a soda or anything?”
“No. I don’t drink—”
“Yeah, I know, health nut.”
“Your body would thank you if you cut it out, too.”
“It’s not like I drink a lot of soda, geesh.”
He glanced around. “Not a lot of people, yet.”
“This came out two weeks ago, so there shouldn’t be a crowd.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll warn you now—don’t panic if I have to wipe my eyes. I’m sentimental.”
“Okay.”
“Some men freak out at women crying.”
“I can handle it for a movie.”
“Good.”
Then he passed me a handkerchief. I didn’t know men under sixty carried them. “Just in case.”
“Wise-ass.”
“Then I’ll take it back.”
“No.” I tucked it in my pocket. “No take back- sies .”
“Okay, Jess.” He was amused. It was subtle, unlike most people, but I’d learned his sense of humor after two and a half weeks.
“Tomorrow will be two weeks
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