Derek was right. It was really good. I made my own pizza dough and marinaded the chicken in barbeque sauce all day and everything. It was awesome.

Seeing as I was unable to respond, I didn’t. Mitch looked back at the faucet and carried on rocking my world.

“Or when you’re makin’ your baked beans. Derek says those are even better. But tonight, I gotta take a rain check because I gotta get back to work.”

They talked about my baked beans too? This meant they talked more than a little about me. This was more than a passing comment, “Oh you gotta try Mara’s barbeque chicken pizza. It’s the shit,” or something like that. This meant more than a few sentences. My baked beans were so good they had to be a whole other topic.

Ohmigod!

I remained silent and tried to level my breathing. Mitch kept working. Then he kept talking to the tap.

“You got great taste in music, Mara.”

Oh God. I liked my music. I liked it a lot. I played it a lot and sometimes I played it loud. Damn.

“I’m sorry, do I play it too loudly that it bothers you?” I asked. His neck twisted to the side but his head was still bent so his eyes were on me but he wasn’t exactly facing me yet he was.

“No, at least not so it’s annoying. I can hear it now ‘cause I’m in your house. The Allman Brothers, “Midnight Rider”, America’s, ‘Ventura Highway’, great taste.”

God, of course. I was an idiot.

“Right,” I whispered, “of course.”

Then something happened to his eyes. Something I didn’t get but something that made a whoosh sweep through my belly all the same. It was stronger than normal and it felt a whole lot nicer.

“Better than your taste in baseball teams,” he stated and it hit me that he was teasing me.

Holy crap! Detective Mitch Lawson was in my bathroom teasing me!

“Um…” I mumbled then bit my bottom lip and checked the impulse to flee the room.

“Relax Mara,” he said softly, his eyes going super warm. “I don’t bite.”

I wished he did. I really, really did. Just like I wished I was at least a Nine. He’d never settle for anything lower than a Nine because he didn’t have to. As a Nine, I might get the chance to find out if I could make him bite me and I’d get the chance to bite him.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“But I am serious,” he went on, his eyes holding mine captive in a way I didn’t get but I still couldn’t look away no matter how much I wanted to.

“About what?” I was losing track of the conversation.

“I expect a knock on my door, you’re makin’ pizza or your beans.”

“Um…okay,” I lied. There was no way I was knocking on his door when I made my pizza or beans. No way in hell. In fact, I was moving the first chance I could get.

“Or just anytime you feel like company,” he kept going and I felt the room teeter.

What did he mean by that?

“Um…I’m kinda a loner,” I lied again and he grinned.

“Yeah, I noticed that. Your imaginary friend who was over watchin’ TV last night sounded a lot like LaTanya though. Now she sings loud and it skates the edge of annoying. Luckily it’s more funny than annoying and it only lasts an hour.”

Oh damn. He called me out on a lie. And double damn because I also sang with the kids on Glee. Hopefully he didn’t hear me but he wasn’t wrong. LaTanya thought she was Patti LaBelle’s more talented sister. She diva’ed her way through every episode of Glee that we’d watched together and we’d watched every episode of Glee together.

“Um…” I repeated, my eyes sliding to the mirror but I wish they hadn’t because I could see his broad shoulders and muscled back leading to his slim hips. I could also see him straightening which meant I had his full attention. Not that I didn’t have it before just that now I really had it.

“Mara,” I watched him call, my eyes at the mirror and they slid back to his then he kept talking. “What I’m sayin’ is, I get it that you’re shy…”

Oh God. Totally a police detective. He had me figured out.

He kept speaking and before he did, his body moved closer. I held my breath as he held my gaze. “But what I want you to know is that I’d like you to come over but because you’re shy, you gotta walk that breezeway, sweetheart. I’m tellin’ you you’re welcome but I made the first move, you need to make the next one. You with me here?”

No. No, I wasn’t with him. He’d made the first move? What move?

And he’d called me sweetheart which made the belly whoosh move through me like a tidal wave.

I was pretty certain I was going to die right there, totally swept away.

Then it I hit me as I stared into his beautiful eyes. They were so dark brown they seemed fathomless and if I wasn’t careful, I would drown in them. But I was careful and I knew who I was and what zone I lived in. So when it hit me, I understood.

Derek and LaTanya were both Nines. Brent and Bradon were firm at Eight Point Fives in the g*y world, the straight world or an alien world (both Brent and Bradon were gorgeous, very cool and very, very nice). But they all liked me. We were not only neighbors, we were good friends. And Mitch had been living across the way from me for four years. He was a good guy. He fixed faucets. He smiled warmly.

Therefore, he was trying to be a good neighbor and maybe even a friend.

“I’m with you,” I whispered.

He came closer and when he spoke his voice dipped lower. “That mean you’re gonna knock on the door tellin’ me you’re makin’ pizza sometime soon?”

“My barbeque chicken pizza takes planning and preparation,” I explained, his eyes flashed and I finished. “It’d have to be this Saturday when I have a day off.”

He got even closer. I pulled in a breath because he was now really close. His head had to tip down really far and if I moved up on my toes, just a tiny bit, I could actually touch my lips to his.

I felt another belly whoosh.

“Works for me,” he murmured.

Oh. Wow.

“’Kay,” I breathed.

He stood where he was. I stood and started drowning in his eyes. He didn’t move. I didn’t either. I felt my body lean towards his a centimeter such was his hot guy magnetic pull at the same time I licked my lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth but not before I saw them get even darker and more fathomless. My heart started to beat in my throat. His cell rang.