Maid for Martin by Samantha Lovern

don’t think you’re driving do you?” Randi didn’t answer. She opened the driver’s side door, found the keys, and held them up.
    “I was planning to.” She watched him approach. He wore jeans, a white shirt, and tennis shoes. The shirt was unbuttoned two buttons, and the cuffs were rolled up to his elbows.
    He was a sight. It was tempting to ask him if he had any clue how good-looking he was. She guessed by the smile playing on his lips, that he knew very well what kind of effect he could have on the opposite sex.
    Randi left her hand on the door and turned to face him. “Don’t you have anything better to do than go with me to dump trash and pick out a tree for this fancy shindig these fine folks are having?”
    “I don’t guess I do.” He held out his hand and of course she gave him the keys.
    “You are the driver.” She smiled and put her hand on the wheel to climb in.
    “Yes, I am,” he said, stepping closer. “Now get in there and slide over.” The look he gave her would have melted Iceland. Randi did as the man said, knowing good and well she was playing with fire.
    Her mother had told her all her life, "Don’t play with matches, don’t date married men, and don’t ever go to bed without asking the good Lord to forgive you for all the stupid things you’ve done this day."
    This was going to go on the top of the list of stupid things she’d done. She climbed into the truck, slid over somewhat, and looked at Mike. For some reason he didn’t look like a Mike. He stood there a moment, glanced at the stuff in the back of the truck and gestured. “This doesn’t all look like trash.”
    “It’s not. There’s some clothes in there we’ll need to drop off at Goodwill, some stuff we will take to the dump—”
    “And then we’ll go pick out a tree?” He interrupted.
    “That’s the plan.”
    Mike looked at his watch, sighed, and climbed in, closing the cab door. He put in the key, leaned back, and smiled. “If we’re going to do all of that, and eat lunch, we better get going.”
    “Who said anything about eating? I’m on the clock here and so are you.” Mike left his hand on the keys, paused, and started the truck. Randi didn’t like the smile playing on his lips when he spoke.
    “You’re fine. I know the boss, and he won’t say a word.” When he rested his arm on the back seat and looked over his shoulder to turn around, they were close. He stopped backing up when she spoke.
    “You know the boss, and you are or were sleeping with Celia, and the two of you still get along? That must be a man thing, or he doesn’t know.”
    Mike smiled and sat looking at her. She had a feeling if she didn’t say something else, or move, he just might kiss her.
    “You do ask a lot of questions.”
    “I know, but this makes me feel kind of not so good. I want to know. Are you dating Celia or not?” Randi started to move, sliding over to her side of the truck, but Mike’s hand went to her shoulder.
    “You and I are not doing anything. I haven’t kissed you. You haven’t kissed me.” He couldn’t say this without smiling, she noticed.
    “No, but I think you want to.”
    “I want to do a lot of things, but until I do, it’s not wrong . . . right?”
    “You got me there.”
    “Yes I do. We’re just running an errand, and we might find time to eat lunch while we’re out.”
    “I know what you’re saying. But I can see where this is going, and it doesn’t feel—”
    When Mike moved his left hand from the wheel and touched his finger to her lips, she felt electricity. She knew he could feel it too, because he pulled his hand back. For the first time, she saw a bit of guilt, or something, in those blue eyes.
    He put his hand back on the wheel and his right hand let go of her shoulder. “I asked you to trust me. I’m still saying give me time, and let's just be sure and take this slow.”

Randi hated to slide away from Mike, but she did. He didn’t like it either, but it showed in the