Carol Finch - A Regular Joe - A Regular Joe / Mr. Right Under Her Nose

This, she decided, was what desire and passion was supposed to feel like—this spontaneous, ungovernable, delicious and wildly disconcerting wave of sensations that left no part of her untouched. Mattie had always regarded herself as an in-control kind of person. But when Joe kissed her, caressed her, she felt helplessly out of control—and didn’t mind that she was.

The fascinating discovery made her bolder, giddy. She draped her arms around his shoulders, marveling at the feel of his body’s reaction to her, feeling empowered by the intimate knowledge that she aroused him.

“Pretty impressive kisses, Mr. Gray,” she said playfully. “What do you say to the best two out of three? We’ll suspend my rules and the king of woodcraft’s regulations for a few minutes. You know, that whole space-out-of-time scenario you mentioned and see how this goes.”

A rakish grin quirked his lips. He was intrigued by her playful sense of humor and aroused because she was asking for more. He trailed his thumb and palms from the underside of her breasts, over the flat plane of her belly to rest possessively on her hips. He felt her shivering reaction, and a ripple of satisfaction streamed through him.

“You nearly gave me a coronary with those first two kisses, Mattie. I’m not sure I can survive another one. If I do survive, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to stop with a kiss and caress. You turn me on, Mattie, in case you don’t know it, and I can’t imagine how you could miss the way my body reacts to you. Are you willing to risk what comes next? We’re talking serious, intimate stuff here, Mattie. Are you ready for that?”

Her smile wavered when sanity crowded past the tantalizing sensations. She admired and respected Joe for giving her a choice, not overwhelming her. And she had no doubt that he could, because he was a devastatingly sensual man who obviously had oodles of experience with intimate relationships. In comparison, she was practically a novice. She was talking years since she’d allowed herself to get caught up in the heat of the moment. But it hadn’t been so long that she hadn’t forgotten that it had turned out badly.

Her arms slowly retreated from his shoulders. Her fingertips lingered to encircle the buttons on his chambray shirt. “You’re probably right…no, you’re exactly right, Joe,” she amended. “We’ve only known each other ten days. And though we’ve spent an enormous amount of time together, it is a little too soon. I don’t do affairs, rarely even have time to date because of my job and obligations to Pops.”

Which was exactly why Joe had called a halt—though his body was screeching at him to go with the flow. He knew Mattie well enough to know she wasn’t into one-nighters. She didn’t feed her sexual desires the way she regularly fed her appetite.

She was not a woman who gave sexual favors heedlessly, or without forethought. In short, she was absolutely, positively nothing like the women in his previous social circle. Joe had too much respect and affection for Mattie to screw up their business and personal relations, just to scratch this itch—maddening though it most certainly was.

Gently he reached over to limn the velvety texture of her lips, the curve of her jaw, the rise of her cheeks. “You’re one of a kind, Mattie,” he murmured huskily.

She forced a smile. “Yeah, I know, that’s a polite way of saying I’m the tomboy next door who gets a bigger kick from power tools than power shopping.”

He didn’t like to hear her put herself down that way, especially when he admired her unique qualities and talents. Joe shook his head in contradiction. “You’re way wrong, sweetheart. You possess amazing gifts and creative skills. Power tools may be the tools of your trade, but it’s what you create, the love and intensity you put into your art and crafts that make you special. You fix things and make them right, whether it’s repairing broken knickknacks or solving problems in your grandfather’s and his friends’ lives. You are caring and generous of heart, and your neighbors and customers come to you for ideas, help and advice. And furthermore, glamour is superficial and short-lived. It rubs off with soap and water and it hangs in a closet. You have inner beauty that runs soul deep.”

Mattie stared at him, amazed that he perceived her as something special when she considered herself unremarkable and had never put forth the effort to make much of her physical assets. But what really hit her where she lived was that Joe didn’t care that she didn’t gussy herself up in attempt to gain attention and impress others. He seemed to appreciate her for who and what she was. She wanted to hug him for that, but, considering their explosive physical reaction to each other, she predicted they’d wind up naked on the living room floor—and things would get totally out of hand, or in hand, in this case.

“There’s something else you should know, Mattie,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and drew her full length against him, nuzzling his chin against the top of her head. “I like who I am when I’m with you. I had to get away from the life I was living because I wasn’t sure if I was liked for myself anymore. You helped me find the person who got lost somewhere along the way. I enjoy being a part of your life. If the intimacy is too much for you to handle, then I’ll suffer the raging hormones. I’ll leave it totally up to you to let me know if, and when, you’re ready to take the intimate step.”

Willfully, Joe set her away from him, though he preferred to hold her, to absorb her into him. He glanced over her head to notice several large paintings, surrounded and accentuated by curio shelves, a plant stand, deacon’s bench, and Shaker-style reading table. Studying the interior decor of her home was the distraction he needed to keep himself from doing something crazy—like tossing good sense to the four winds and succumbing to the unruly urges of his body.

“Damn, woman, do you know how talented and gifted you are?” he said as he strode up to the painting that had reached across the room to draw him closer. “You put so much life, detail and color into your artwork that it grabs hold and won’t let go.”

Joe forced himself to move to the next landscape painting that depicted the old wooden bridge south of town that he’d noticed while cruising with the Roland Gang. Mattie’s artwork transported him to the scenic location, filled him with a sense of peace. It dawned on him while he appraised the third painting that Mattie’s artwork depicted all those safe, serene havens where a person might go to achieve a sense of inner tranquillity. When she added memorabilia and collectibles to the surrounding shelves and tables, the entire wall became a peaceful sanctuary of sorts.

Lord, what a creative, artistic knack she had. She always managed to come up with just the right combinations of arts and crafts. Oh, how he’d love to have her in the creative design department of Hobby Hut Enterprises. She was a font of unique ideas.

“Joe, would you like a cup of hot chocolate? I get the feeling you’ll be wanting the whole tour of my arts and crafts, considering how fascinated you seem to be with the living room walls.” Mattie was enormously pleased and proud that Joe appreciated and admired her art—and said so.

“Cocoa would be great, thanks,” he said without glancing at her, so intent was he on the seaside painting that hung above boat-shaped shelves filled with hand-painted knickknacks. “When did you find time to do these detailed paintings?”

“It’s been several months since I’ve worked on time-consuming paintings like these. The store monopolizes my time, and customized jobs for clients fill up my evenings. Running back and forth to check on Pops takes up the remainder of my spare time. I keep thinking the custom projects will slow down, but word of mouth appears to be promoting my work, and clients keep showing up with requests.”