Текст книги "Easy Love"

Автор книги: Kristen Proby

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter Two

My head whips up to stare at Eli. He shoves his hands in his pockets and swears under his breath as he hangs his head then glances back up at me, looking at me like he doesn’t really want to be here, and he’s not quite sure if he likes me.

“You don’t have to stay,” I inform him stiffly.

“I don’t expect you to work today at all, from here or the office.”

“Why ever not?” I lean back in the chair and frown up at him. “You’re paying me to work.”

“You’ve travelled all morning, Kate. Settle in. Eat something. In fact, let me take you out to eat something.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I do.” He removes his suit jacket after taking his sunglasses out of the inside pocket and drapes it over the back of the sofa. He rolls the sleeves of the white shirt that molds over his muscled torso all the way up to his elbows, unbuttons the top two buttons, and removes his soft blue tie. “That’s better. Go change into something more comfortable, and I’ll feed you the best jambalaya you’ve ever had.”

“I’ve never had jambalaya before,” I reply with a raspy voice. I can’t tear my eyes off his broad shoulders.

“This will ruin you for all other jambalaya; I promise you.”

I frown and meet his gaze, trying to figure him out. “Are you sure?”

He nods and waits expectantly. I have a feeling not many people say no to Eli Boudreaux.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can reel them back in. I feel my face flame, but I tilt my chin up and square my shoulders firmly.

“I didn’t invite you to,” he replies calmly, but his eyes are full of humor.

I nod and walk back to the bedroom to change into a light summer dress, slather on sunblock with SPF 4000 to protect my white, freckled skin, and then rejoin Eli, who is now looking out my windows.

“You’re always looking out windows,” I remark with a smile. He turns to me and his eyes heat as he looks me up and down, and I suddenly feel very exposed.

“You’ll burn, cher.”

“I’m wearing sunblock.”

“Do you always argue?” he asks.

“I don’t argue.”

He holds my gaze for a moment and then tosses his head back and laughs, shakes his head, and leads me out into the hot afternoon.

“Let’s go this way first.” He turns to the left and rests his hand on the small of my back again, ever the gentleman, walking me down Royal Street. If you’d asked me yesterday if I thought I’d be walking in the French Quarter with the sexiest man I’d ever seen by my side, I would have told you to consult a doctor.

And Eli Boudreaux is sexy. But he’s not mine, and he never will be. He’s my boss, and he’s being kind.

I take a deep breath, determined to pull my head out of the gutter and enjoy New Orleans, when Eli pulls me into a trendy shoe and accessory shop called Head Over Heels.

“Shoes!” I exclaim, already salivating. Okay, so the man is showing me shoes. I might sleep with him after all.

“Hats,” he corrects me.

“Holy crap, what are you doing here?” A woman with short, dark hair and full lips smiles from behind the counter.

“Kate needs a hat,” Eli replies and grins as his sister launches herself into his arms and holds on tight.

“Been a minute,” she whispers in his ear in the same New Orleans drawl. Eli grins.

“You saw me at Mama’s last Sunday.”

“Been a minute,” she replies and steps back, smiling at me. “Hi, Kate. It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, Charly.” I’m pulled into another hug—the Boudreaux family is an affectionate bunch, and the middle sister, Charlotte, is no different from the rest.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Kate needs a hat,” Eli repeats.

“I do?”

“Oh, yes, sugar, you do,” Charly replies with a nod. “We need to keep the sun off your face and shoulders. Let’s see…” She leads us to the back of the shop and pulls three hats off the wall, all wide-brimmed and pretty. “I think green is your color, with that beautiful auburn hair and your pretty green eyes.”

“Thank you, but this hair is about to be a curly tangled mess with all this humidity.”

“I know the feeling. I’ll make a list of hair products to use while you try these on.” She jogs back to her counter as I plop the first hat on my head. It’s pink, not quite as widely brimmed as the green, and makes me look like a mushroom.

“Try the green one,” Eli suggests, but instead I pull on one with a rainbow of colors. It looks like a box of Crayolas exploded all over it. Eli just watches me in the mirror with humor-filled eyes and crosses his arms over his impressive chest. “You do have beautiful hair.”

“Thank you.” His jaw ticks. If he doesn’t like giving out compliments, why does he say anything at all?

“Oh no, dawlin’, the green one,” Charly says as she rejoins us. I smirk as I put the green hat on and sigh as I realize that she and Eli were right.

“Looks like this is the winner,” I say with a grin. “I’ll take it.” I pull my wallet out of my handbag, but Eli lays his hand over mine and shakes his head.

“Bill me,” he tells Charly, who smiles and nods happily, while handing me a list of hair products to try, waving at us as Eli leads me back out into the heat. “Feel better?”

“Hmm,” I murmur, but, oh, God, yes, it feels so much better. “Thanks for the hat.”

“You are welcome,” he replies, his accent making me squirm again. I met this man just a few hours ago, and so far, everything he does makes me squirm.

Not good. Not good at all.

“Tell me about yourself,” I say, surprising myself. All I know is, I need to get my brain on something other than the mass of testosterone walking next to me. We cross the street, me on the outside, and Eli immediately trades places with me, tucking me next to him away from the street. “Chivalry isn’t dead,” I whisper.

“No, dawlin’, it’s not.” He flashes me a quick smile before leading me to a café with beautiful courtyard seating.

“It’s surprisingly cool in here,” I murmur after we’re seated.

“The trees keep it cool,” the waitress says with a smile. “Need a minute with the menu?”

“Do you eat seafood?” Eli asks me.

“Yes,” I reply.

“Good. We’ll both have the seafood jambalaya, please.”

The waitress nods and walks away, leaving us alone.

“Now, tell me more about your plans to catch the person stealing from my company.”

“You didn’t answer my question first,” I reply, and butter a piece of the bread the waitress just set down for us.

“What question?”

“Tell me about you.”

“I don’t matter.” His voice is calm, but sure. Final. He leans back, folds his arms, and shutters immediately close over his eyes.

Interesting.

“It’s your company, so yes, I do believe you matter.”

“All you need to know about me is that I’m your boss, you’ll be paid timely, and I expect nothing but your best on this job.”

I set my bread on a small white plate and lean back, mirroring his pose with my arms crossed. “Actually, I believe it was Savannah who hired me, and I don’t ever give less than my best. Ever.”

He raises a brow and cocks his head to the side. “Beau, Savannah, and I hold equal shares and equal interest in the company. All three of us are your bosses, Kate.”

“Understood.” He watches me for several minutes. I can’t figure him out. He has moments of being so kind, nice, and I think he may be attracted to me, and then the walls come slamming down and he’s distant, impersonal, and borderline rude.

Which is it?

Not that it really matters, because starting tomorrow I’ll answer to Savannah, and I’ll hardly ever see the mysterious and sexy Eli.

I hope.

I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and take a deep breath of the thick New Orleans air. There’s a light breeze now, cooling my heated skin. The trees above are green and lush, and I can see sprinkles of sunshine as it fights its way through the leaves.

Our meal is served and I stare down at the bowl of rice, shrimp, mussels and a bunch of stuff I can’t make out dubiously, then glance up to Eli, who has already dug into his bowl heartily.

“You won’t regret it,” he says simply, and shovels another spoonful into his mouth. I watch his square jaw as he chews, and then glance back down at my own bowl.

Why not? I take a bite and my gaze finds his in surprise. “It’s good.”

“I wouldn’t feed you something bad, Kate.” He chuckles and reaches for the bread. The jambalaya is delicious, and I’m hungrier than I thought, devouring the bowl in just a few minutes. Finally, I sit back and pat my flat belly.

“That was great.”

When the bill is paid and we’re back on the sidewalk, walking back toward my loft, Eli glances down at me, and then sighs and pushes his hand through his hair.

“How did you get into your profession?” he asks softly.

“Oh, we’re talking about ourselves now?” I raise a brow. “Look, you don’t have to be nice to me. It’s okay if you don’t like me. I’ll do my job, very well I might add, and be out of New Orleans in four to six weeks.”

“Four to six weeks?” he asks incredulously.

“Yes. I told you earlier, it takes time to settle in, gain my coworkers’ trust and confidence. I can’t just sit down at a desk and start pilfering through files. I’m supposed to be a new hire, on the down low, remember?”

He shakes his head thoughtfully. “I didn’t think it would be that involved.”

“It’s harder than it looks; otherwise, you wouldn’t need me.”

“Who said I don’t like you?” he asks abruptly.

“What?”

“You just said ‘it’s okay if you don’t like me.’ What makes you think I don’t like you?”

I stop on the sidewalk, stare up at him for a long minute, and then chuckle at the bewildered expression on his wickedly handsome face. “It doesn’t matter, Eli.”

I begin to walk again, and he hangs back, walking just a few paces behind me. I can hear the wheels turning in his head from here.

Finally, we reach my door. I glance back at him as he catches up to me. “Thanks for the hat, and for the meal.”

“You’re welcome.”

I turn to let myself inside and move to shut the door, but Eli nudges his way inside and pushes the door shut behind him.

“Um, come on in?”

“I do like you.”

I roll my eyes and toss my handbag on the couch, my hat on top of it, and see his jacket and his tie where he left them earlier.

“Oh, you almost forgot—”

Eli’s very firm chest presses to my back as he reaches around me and takes the coat out of my hands and sets it aside, then swivels me around to face him.

“I do like you,” he repeats. When I would look down, he catches my chin with his finger and tilts my head up. “But this is a bad idea.”

“What is?” I whisper, hating the shakiness in my voice.

“This.” He lowers his face to mine and sweeps his nose across my own, gently. His lips haven’t touched mine yet, but they’re tingling, already yearning for him. His hands glide up my bare arms to my neck, his thumbs gently draw circles along my jawline as he places a light, barely-there kiss on the corner of my lips. I hear a soft moan, and would be mortified to know that it came from me, if I could find my brain cells.

This man is dangerous. Everything about him screams RUN! but instead, I grip onto his lean hips and tug him closer. He needs no further invitation. He slips those amazing lips of his over mine, licks my bottom lip, and when I gasp at the fission of pure lust that moves through me, he moves in for the kill.

His tastes like the after-meal peppermint we both ate, and the light one or two day scruff on his chin rasps against my skin in the most tantalizing way. I can’t help but wonder how it would feel on other parts of my body…behind my knees, between my breasts, between my legs.

Holy shit, I bet he would feel amazing between my legs.

I grip onto his biceps and realize that the one arm he’s slung around the small of my back is the only thing keeping me upright. My knees no longer exist. We’re both breathing hard as he drags his fingers down my cheek and pulls back, nibbling the edge of my lips once more, and then he’s gone, staring down at me with shining whiskey eyes.

“That. That’s a bad idea.”

Chapter Three

Eli

“So how was your date?” Beau asks, just before he attacks me from behind, his arm wrapped around my neck. I slip out of his grip, flip him onto his back, and glare down at him, sweaty and panting.

“What date?”

“Heard you left out of here for the day with Van’s friend Kate,” Ben Preston, a life-long friend of ours, and the Krav Maga expert that comes to train us four times a week, says with a smug grin. He’s already shirtless and sweaty, but barely panting. Ben’s not as tall as Beau and me, but he’s much stronger, and he’s fucking badass. “After Van told you to keep your hands off. She’s pissed, by the way.”

“It wasn’t a fucking date,” I mutter, and wipe the sweat off my forehead with a towel before switching my attention to Ben and throwing a punch, which he deflects, and we spar for a few long, hard minutes before I can continue. “Beau and Van were in a meeting. Someone had to meet her and show her the loft.”

“And buy her a hat and take her lunch?” Beau asks with a wide grin. “Van’s gonna cut your balls off.”

“What are you, a bunch of gossiping women?” I whip my soaking wet T-shirt over my head, then prop my hands on my hips.

“Charly called me after you left her shop. She said you looked love sick.”

“Fuck that,” I mutter with disgust. “I don’t do love sick, and you know it. So, Charly called you, and you used the family phone tree to spread the news that I was being nice to Kate?”

Beau and Ben both laugh, then Ben catches me off guard and takes me down to the mat. Motherfucker. “So, you’re not taking her to Dec’s gig tonight?”

“Do you want Mama’s recipe for her pecan pie too?” I snarl.

“Wow, you’re very defensive for someone who’s not interested in the pretty Kate.”

“She’s not pretty,” I mutter. She’s fucking beautiful.

“Yeah, I’m not really into redheads with freckles myself. But the last time I saw her, she had a sexy little body,” Beau continues, speaking to Ben, who nods thoughtfully.

I’m going to kill them both.

With my bare hands.

“When did you see her?”

“During one of my trips to visit Dec and Van at college.” Beau strips out of his own shirt and tosses it away. “That was a while ago, though. Maybe she got fat.”

“She’s not fat,” I reply, walking right into his trap. “Look, I’m just being nice to her.”

“Right,” Ben nods, just before he takes Beau down to the mat, but Beau pulls out, rolls Ben beneath him, and pulls up to throw a punch, which Ben rolls out of, and for the next few minutes they try to best each other.

I am not lovesick over Kate. Sure, she’s sexy with her thick auburn hair and big green eyes, and the freckles on her face and shoulders simply beg to be kissed and traced, but for the love of fuck, she’s an employee. It’s just been longer than I care to admit since I last got laid.

That’s a detail easily taken care of.

But the thought of any of the usual women I call to scratch that particular itch holds no interest.

Fuck.

“Not paying attention gets your ass kicked, man,” Beau warns, just before he pulls my torso down and knees me in the stomach, then throws an elbow up, but I throw him off balance and he misses. Barely.

“Stop daydreaming about hot redheads and pay attention,” Ben snarls.

“I’m done,” I mutter, and suck down a bottle of water.

“We have ten minutes left,” Beau says.

“You go ahead.”

“Dude.” Beau, panting and sweaty himself, props his hands on his hips and levels me with a somber look. “Be careful.”

“I haven’t done a fucking thing,” I reply, but the memory of that hot kiss in her loft is right there, front and center. Her sweet body pressed to mine, her hair tangled in my fingers, and those bright green eyes, full of lust and mistrust, pinned to mine as I backed away and ran like a bat out of hell.

“Okay.” Beau shrugs and shakes his head. “But if you decide to do the fucking thing, be honest with her.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You have a habit of making women fall for you, and then you squish them like bugs,” Ben adds.

“I do not.”

“Yeah, you do. Dad never meant for you to—”

“This isn’t therapy,” I interrupt, and turn my back on both of them, headed to the shower. “I’m fine. Kate’s safe from me. I’ll make sure she gets to Dec’s gig safely, and then I’ll probably rarely see her after that.”

“Eli.”

I turn at Ben’s voice.

“I do want that recipe. Your mom’s pecan pie is the best.”

I smirk, shake my head, and leave to the loud grunts of Beau getting his ass kicked.

***

Kate answers her door and I just about swallow my tongue at the sight of her. Her hair has been swept up onto her head, with soft wavy strands hanging around her face. She’s in a silk black tank top that flows from the tops of her breasts to her waist, and white Capri pants.

And the sexiest strappy black heels I’ve ever fucking seen.

She’s safe from me. No messing with her.

“Eli.”

“Right the first time,” I reply, and offer her a smile. I seem to smile at this woman a lot.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d take you to Declan’s gig tonight.” I raise a brow as she bites her lip and winces. “Problem?”

“I kind of figured that offer was off the table. Especially after—”

“After what?” She glances down at my chest and her eyes dilate. Oh, she’s interested, all right. The chemistry is off the charts.

“After you kissed me.” Her eyes return to mine, and she tilts her chin up defiantly. She’s not going to back down and get shy, or play coy.

Good girl.

“I don’t play games, cher.” She frowns slightly at the nickname.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I won’t kiss you and then ignore you.”

“No, cher. What does it mean?”

I grin and skim the tip of my finger down her nose. I can’t seem to keep my hands off this woman. So much for not playing games.

Jesus, get it together, Boudreaux.

“It’s a Creole term that means dear or darling. Are we going to stand in your doorway all night?”

She shakes her head and steps back, allowing me to pass. The place already smells like her, like honey.

“You really don’t have to take me. Declan texted me with the address. According to my Google Maps app, it’s not far.”

“You shouldn’t be walking around the Quarter after dark by yourself. You don’t know your way around, and anything could happen. Besides, his club is on Bourbon. You’re not walking down Bourbon looking like that.”

“Looking like what?” she demands, and props her hands on her hips, making her shirt lift just an inch, giving me a glimpse of creamy white skin.

“Like a walking wet dream,” I mutter and shove my hand through my hair.

“I live here. How can I never walk around after dark?” She raises a brow and is doing her best to look unaffected by me, but her cheeks have reddened and she keeps licking those plump lips of hers in agitation.

Those lips that taste like heaven and move effortlessly beneath my own.

I narrow my eyes and watch as she tosses her phone, cash, and other mysterious things that women carry with them into a small handbag and turns back to me.

“I’d feel better if I walked you.”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs and glances around, as if she thinks she might be forgetting something. “How far is the walk?”

“About ten minutes.”

I almost tell her that those heels are going to be a pain in the ass on the cobblestones and uneven sidewalks, but then decide against it. If the thought of keeping her held against me to make sure she’s safe makes me an asshole, so be it.

I am an asshole.

Kate follows me down her stairs to the sidewalk below, and we set off toward Bourbon Street and Declan’s gig.

“Are you sure you’re up for this? You’ve had a long day.” I catch her elbow as she cautiously makes her way around a wide hole in the sidewalk, then settle my hand on the small of her back. It just seems to fit there.

“I haven’t heard Dec play in years,” she replies with a smile. “I miss it. He’s so talented. He could be doing so much more with his music than he is.”

“New Orleans is his home,” I reply softly, but with complete agreement. “He was in Memphis last month working on an album.”

“I know. I was in town on a job, so we met for dinner, but I didn’t get to hear him play.”

“So, how close are you really?” I do my best to ignore the stab of fucking jealously that spears my gut.

“Very close.” She nods and reaches for my arm as we cross a cobblestoned street, when she almost loses her balance on those sexy shoes. “He and Savannah and I were roommates. Declan is one of my dearest friends.”

Naked friends?

I want to ask, but hold my tongue. She was right this afternoon; it’s none of my fucking business if she and Declan have a physical relationship.

Ah, fuck it.

“Have you two ever—”

“I believe we already had this conversation,” she says with a laugh.

“I don’t think it’s funny.”

“The thought of me having sex with Declan is hilarious,” she replies and smiles up at me, her gorgeous green eyes glowing under the streetlights. “He’s like a brother to me, Eli.”

I nod and lead her to the left, down Bourbon Street, the hubbub of the French Quarter. At night, at least.

“Holy moly,” she breathes, and takes in all the lights, the loud music, and the people leaning on the railings above the street. “It’s like Vegas on steroids.”

I laugh and tuck her hand in mine, linking our fingers. “That it is. It’s still early, so this is pretty tame.”

The streets have been blocked off for foot traffic only.

“There are a lot of sex shops on this street.” Her frank observation startles a laugh from me, and I glance down to find her smiling up at me.

“It’s Bourbon,” I reply with a shrug. “The club that Declan is playing at is actually pretty classy. I think you’ll like it.”

“I think I like it all,” she replies softly. “It’s hard to believe this is the same city from one block over.”

I nod and lead her through an iron gate into a wide courtyard with lights twinkling in the trees overhead. I introduce myself to the hostess, and she immediately guides us to the front of the crowd to two seats right in front of the stage, where Declan is playing a jazz song on the piano.

Dec’s voice is deep and croony, reminiscent of Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra. He has a decent voice, but it’s what he can do with a musical instrument—any instrument—that makes him stand out.

He’s a freaking genius.

“Did it bother you that he chose music over the family company?” Kate asks from beside me, swaying back and forth to the song.

“No. That would be stupid. Listen to him.”

She nods and then smiles up at me, a full-on smile that lights up her face, and I find that I have to swallow hard and fist my hands to keep from reaching out and cupping that amazing face in the palm of my hand and leaning in for a kiss.

No more kissing.

I make myself look back up at Dec, who’s watching us. He shakes his head and finishes his song to delighted applause.

“Ah, that’s awfully kind of you,” he drawls, and winks at a woman in the front row who winks back. And they call me the man-whore. “I have some special guests here tonight, ladies and gentlemen.”

He stands from the piano and reaches for a guitar, then pulls two chairs to the edge of the stage and grabs an extra mic as well.

Kate is already shaking her head no.

Interesting.

“My brother, Eli, is here tonight.” He smiles down at me, and I just grin and raise a brow. “And a very old friend from college is here too. In fact, Kate and I used to sing together all the time, and I’m going to talk her into coming up here and joining me right now.”

The room erupts into applause, but Kate is vehemently shaking her head and saying “No. Heck no.”

Heck no.

Her aversion to cursing turns me on. I wonder what it would take to get her to talk dirty.

I’m going to hell.

“Come on, Kate. New Orleans wants to hear you sing.”

I nudge her with my elbow and grin at the look of terror on her face. Finally, she swallows hard and stands, climbs the steps to the stage, sits next to Declan, and raises the mic to her mouth.

“Was this necessary?”

“Well, it’s not as fun if you sing from down there,” Declan replies and kisses her cheek. “Isn’t she pretty?”

Why does everyone call her pretty? Can’t they see that she’s unbelievable?

I applaud with the rest of the crowd, and then Declan begins to strum the guitar. “Remember this one?” he asks her.

“I remember belting this one out after having a few too many drinks in Memphis at that dive bar you played in during college.”

“That’s the one,” he confirms with a grin. And suddenly, Kate begins to sing Crazy by Patsy Cline, as if she was made to. It’s effortless for her. Declan joins her on the chorus, adding harmony, and when the song is over, they’re given a standing ovation. Kate stands and bows, kisses Declan’s cheek, and returns to her seat at my side.

“Wow.” It’s all I can manage.

“He’ll pay for that later.” She takes a deep breath and clenches her shaking hands together.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

She jerks one shoulder in a shrug and then settles back to listen to the rest of Declan’s set. She gradually relaxes, moving in her seat, singing along with the songs she knows. And when it’s all over, she stands and whoops and hollers, making Declan laugh from the stage.

“Thanks for coming, superstar,” Declan says, as he pulls Kate in for a hug. “And you too,” he says to me. “It’s been a minute since you came to a show.”

“Too long. I enjoyed it.”

This seems to surprise him, and I feel like an ass. It has been too long.

“I’d walk you home, but—” Declan looks over at the girl in the front row he winked at earlier and shoots her a smile.

“I see things haven’t changed,” Kate mutters and shakes her head. “I’m fine. Eli walked me over.”

“Do you mind walking her home?”

“If it’s out of your way—” Kate begins, but I shake my head.

“Of course. Have a good night.”

“He’s so formal,” Declan says with a grin.

“Not always,” Kate replies, and then kisses Declan’s cheek again, and before he can ask what she means by that, she says, “call me soon. We’ll have lunch or something.”

And with that, we leave, winding our way through the crowd.

“Would you like a drink for the walk home? There’s no open container law here.”

“Sure. I’d love some white wine, please.”

I order two glasses, and we set off toward home, walking slower so she can absorb everything happening around us.

“We can walk up a block and get out of the crazy.”

“No, I don’t mind.” Her eyes are pinned on a couple practically having sex against the wall of a building as we pass.

I take her hand in mine and keep her close, glowering at the drunker than fuck men that leer at her as we pass.

I’d rather not have her in the middle of this, and steer her down a block to walk up Royal, which is much more tame.

“I really didn’t mind,” she insists and sips her wine.

“I did.” I glance down at her and lead her around the gaping hole in the sidewalk. “Promise me you won’t go back there alone.”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

“Promise me, Kate.”

“It’s no big deal.”

I sigh and stop us, right there on the sidewalk, steps from her front door, and turn her to face me. “Please, as a favor to me, don’t go back to Bourbon Street at night alone. People get shot, raped, beat up down there all the time, cher. If you want to go, take someone with you.”

Her eyes are wide as she watches me, her hand flat on my chest. I pulled her against me without even realizing it, and now the zing of awareness is a pulsing need. I can feel her, from knee to chest, and it immediately makes my dick stand up and beg.

This woman is going to be the death of me.

And she’s off-limits.

“Kate.”

“I won’t,” she whispers, and watches my lips as she licks her own. An involuntary growl slips from my throat as I tip my head down and lean my forehead against hers, breathing her in. “This is a bad idea,” she whispers.

“Very bad,” I agree, and reluctantly pull away and walk her down the block to her loft.

“This house is pretty,” she says, gesturing to the four-story single family home right next to the building that holds her loft.

“Thank you,” I reply.

“You own that one too?”

“I do. That’s my house.”

“You live there?”

I nod and watch her carefully.

“So, we’re neighbors.”

“We are.”

“Well, thanks for taking me,” she says, and doesn’t meet my eyes as she climbs the stairs. “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

“It’s not a problem,” I reply, but she stops me with a hand to my chest.

“I don’t want you to walk me to the door, Eli. Have a good night.”

And with that, she climbs the last of the stairs and lets herself inside without a backwards glance.

I stand on the sidewalk and watch her turn the lights on in her loft, then walk to my place and pour myself another glass of wine before I change into basketball shorts. It’s hot enough outside to forgo a shirt. I sit on the balcony, listening to the music coming from Jackson Square, and settle in for a long sleepless night.

An hour later, Kate’s lights go out, putting an end to a very long day. I picture her with her hair loose, climbing into bed, slipping between the sheets wearing nothing at all, and swear under my breath as I walk inside and close the doors.

Tomorrow will be business as usual. Forget her. I have no room in my life for a woman, least of all a woman who has forever and white picket fences written all over her.

I gave all of that up long ago.