Meg narrowed those shining blue eyes. “Like what?”
He shrugged. “An ear. A shoulder.”
“Thanks, but . . .”
“A full-body naked rubdown.”
That choked a laugh from her. He watched, satisfied, as some of the tension drained from her shoulders. “I can do without the extraneous body parts, thanks.”
“Anytime,” he said sincerely. “You let me know if you change your mind.”
And tried not to imagine her tight, compact body, round and responsive under his hands. Under him.
“In your dreams, Slick.”
Probably. Tonight, for sure.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow?” She looked wary, like he was coming over to make good on that full-body naked massage.
“To work on the ramp.”
“Oh. Yes. Good idea.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “I’d take that as a compliment if you didn’t sound so surprised.”
“I meant it as one.” An actual smile this time. “I appreciate you doing this for Mom.”
“Not just for your mother.”
Matt was his best, his oldest friend. Sam shook his head. “Not only for Matt.”
She pressed her full lips together. “You’re not doing it for me.”
He didn’t answer right away. He owed the Fletchers, Tom and Tess, more than he could say. Their home had been his refuge throughout high school, an escape from his stepmother’s moods and his old man’s tirades. Tom had taught Sam to change the oil in his first car. Tess had taken him in and treated him as one of her own, equally quick with a cookie or a scold. He would have done a damn sight more for either of them than build a ramp.
But his feelings for Meg were mixed in there, too, a potent brew of attraction and regret.
He smiled at her with intent.
“Oh, no,” she said. “You don’t even know me anymore. There’s nothing between us but one lousy hookup and some memories.”
He took his hands out of his pockets. Nothing between them? “Let’s see,” he suggested and made his move.