Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [64]
Reaching out to where she’d pulled her feet up onto the couch, he grabbed on to her toes, wiggling them. “See why I call you snowflake, snowflake?”
It was only a few minutes later that they heard a truck rumble up the snowy driveway and both rose to greet Tommy. Braden told her Tommy had volunteered to drive down the mountain on pizza detail, and he showed up with two large, flat boxes and a dimpled smile.
Although it was his eyes that captured Laura as Braden introduced them. He’d looked cute enough in the fishing picture, but his gaze, in person, shone blue and dazzling, and she could only imagine how many girls he’d seduced with that particular asset. His blond hair was a little messy, befitting his ski-bum image, and his face tan for February, which Laura figured was a testament to exactly how often he hit the slopes. Like Braden, he was muscular but lean and clearly didn’t shave every day, as a thick stubble covered his chin beneath a dark blond mustache. She couldn’t help thinking of a young Robert Redford as the Sundance Kid in one of her mother’s favorite old movies.
“Wait a minute,” Tommy said as they all stood in the foyer, “you’re Laura Watkins? As in the Laura Watkins? The mystery writer?”
Laura felt herself flush with delight. Despite her success, it was rare that anyone outside the writing community recognized her name. “Um, yes,” she said, smiling.
“My mom loves you,” he informed her, handing the pizzas off to Braden. “She asks for your newest book every Christmas. Riley Wainscott, right?”
Wow, he even knew her series. “Right,” she said, duly flattered.
“Braden mentioned your first name and that you were a writer, but I had no idea. My mom will be thrilled when I tell her I met you.”
They sat down at the table and doled out pizza, Braden supplementing it with beer he’d picked up on his trip to the grocery.
“Braden tells me you design computer games for a living,” Laura said to Tommy. “He already explained to me how a guy becomes a corporate raider—so, tell me, how does a guy become a computer game designer?”
“I’ve always been the techie type,” he began, surprising her. Up to this moment, Laura had generally equated techie type with geeky type, but Tommy was about as far from the latter as a man could get. “Around twelve years ago, when the Internet was really starting to take off, I formed a game company. I got lucky—the timing was right, and within a few years, we’d hit it big. I had the most popular online game site with millions of visitors every day playing free demos and then paying to download the games.
“After awhile, though, I got tired of the commute to Denver, even when I had put enough dependable people in place that I only made the trip a few times a week. Guess I just wanted to make a change—I’d been there, done that. So I sold the company at a nice profit, and I’m a freelancer now.”
“I’m seeing a trend here,” she said with a smile, glancing back and forth between Tommy and Braden. “You guys build companies, then sell them. What does that mean? That you get bored easily?”
Tommy swallowed a bite of pizza, then said, “It’s probably more like we have trouble with commitment.”
Both guys laughed, and Laura got a little more insight into the friendship, and the men themselves. It wasn’t surprising to hear Braden was commitment-phobic, but still a little saddening. Stop getting attached to him—now. A few more days and she’d be heading home and all this would be just a memory, so she had to turn off her emotions surrounding him this very minute.
“So what kind of games do you design?”
“Anything you can think of. Puzzle games, word games, casino-type games, sports games, racing games—all over the board.”
“Don’t forget my favorites,” Braden said, reaching for a slice of sausage and bacon pizza.
Laura switched her gaze to him. “What’s that?”
He grinned. “Sex games.”
“Sex games?” She raised her eyebrows, feeling a little thick since she didn’t quite