Getting Rowdy
Page 23
A door to his right led to the first apartment, with stairs leading up the second. He assumed the layout would be the same in the front. “Do you know your neighbors?” Please let her say no.
She shook her head. “I keep to myself.”
Just as Cannon had claimed. “Glad to hear it.” Even here in the foyer, the building looked run-down with chipped, dirty paint and carpet so gross he hated to walk on it even in his shoes. Praying it’d be the latter, Rowdy asked, “First floor or second?”
“I’m up.” She started ahead of him, her keys in hand. “I understood the first exchange easily enough. But you did more than exchange cards with that second group of guys, right? So what did you talk about?”
Fudging the truth just a little, Rowdy said, “I told them you were off-limits.” At the top of the stairs, he took her arm. “You’ll let me know if anyone bothers you, okay?”
“No one will, but thank you.”
Though it’d soon be morning and her eyes were a little tired, she was still so incredibly sexy to him. That abundance of red hair trailed around her shoulders and over her br**sts.
He brushed it back. “Let me have your keys.”
Suddenly shy, her gaze dropped away from his. “What are you going to do?”
“Check it out, make sure you’re alone.”
That brought her attention back with startled worry. “You think someone could have gotten in?”
He squeezed her shoulders. “Probably not, but I’ll feel better once I see how safe your place is.”
A pulse fluttered in her throat as she stared at his mouth. “I’m not sure...”
Damn but she could tempt a saint, so what chance did a sinner like him have? “I’ll look around, check on things and then leave.”
“I suppose you’re good at picking out security problems.” Looking at the door again, she made up her mind. “Okay, thank you. I appreciate it.” She handed over her keys.
Rowdy was so used to her stubborn streak of independence, he didn’t quite trust her when she was like this. She hid something—but what?
The setup of the building sucked. Here on the landing, she was trapped. No window, no door but into her apartment. He unlocked and opened the door, reached inside and found a light switch. Unlike at his place, lamps came on beside a stuffed couch.
Rowdy brought her in with him, left the door open and said, “Wait here.” Before she could protest, he went through the apartment, glancing long enough at the small open kitchen to see a box of Cocoa Puffs sitting on the counter. Cold, sugary cereal, huh? Somehow that fit.
The first door led to a miniscule bathroom with a cluttered counter. Makeup, blow-dryer, a basket of girlie-looking headbands and hair ties. He pushed back the shower curtain and found an array of bottles surrounding the narrow tub—shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, bubble bath.
The woman took her bathing very seriously.
He left that room and glanced into a hall closet that held her towels, extra blanket and pillow and more toiletries. Avery said not a single word as he went into her bedroom.
First things first, he checked her closet, moving her clothes around to look behind them. She had a wardrobe of T-shirts, sweatshirts, sweaters and jeans, with only a few dresses and skirts thrown in. A pile of shoes and boots littered the floor of the closet. He never would have pegged Avery to be so messy, but he kind of liked it.
He didn’t see any real dirt, just a whole bunch of disorganization.
Her bedroom window overlooked the convenience store and the now-empty lot. After checking the lock on her window, he closed the curtains and bent to peek under her unmade bed. Nothing but dust bunnies, a stray sock and a suitcase. Too curious to let it go, Rowdy tugged at the luggage handle.
It wasn’t empty.
So Avery kept a packed suitcase under her bed. For an emergency exit?
Straightening again, he took a moment to look over her room. Not as utilitarian as his; she had knickknacks everywhere. Change and a few pieces of jewelry littered the single dresser. A scented candle and a book rested on her nightstand. He touched the fluffy comforter and supersoft sheets on her bed. She had three pillows.
“Rowdy?”
“Be right there.” Trying to remove the image of her curled up all warm and sleepy in that bed, he walked out feeling strangely...enlightened.
His bartender didn’t live like a woman from a pampered upbringing. In fact, her messy apartment didn’t look much different from where his sister used to hide out.
Secrets. Avery had them in spades. How hard would it be for him to uncover them?
* * *
WITH A STRANGE sensation of anticipation humming in her veins, Avery watched as Rowdy prowled her apartment. She shouldn’t have left it so cluttered, but there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to do everything that needed to be done.
She had Sundays off, but usually slept late and then spent the day running errands and doing laundry. Who had time to clean?
When Rowdy emerged from her bedroom, her heart thumped harder. “Done snooping?”
“Almost.” He checked out the window in the main living area, and then the smaller window behind her kitchen sink.
She checked out the flex of muscles in his shoulders and the way his butt looked in those threadbare jeans. He had such strong thighs, and such a terrifically muscled backside.
He met her gaze. “They’re locked.”
She knew it, because she kept them that way. In the summer, when it had gotten hot as Hades, she’d run a portable room air conditioner that hadn’t quite cut through the humidity, but at least offered a little relief. “It’s okay?”
She shook her head. “I keep to myself.”
Just as Cannon had claimed. “Glad to hear it.” Even here in the foyer, the building looked run-down with chipped, dirty paint and carpet so gross he hated to walk on it even in his shoes. Praying it’d be the latter, Rowdy asked, “First floor or second?”
“I’m up.” She started ahead of him, her keys in hand. “I understood the first exchange easily enough. But you did more than exchange cards with that second group of guys, right? So what did you talk about?”
Fudging the truth just a little, Rowdy said, “I told them you were off-limits.” At the top of the stairs, he took her arm. “You’ll let me know if anyone bothers you, okay?”
“No one will, but thank you.”
Though it’d soon be morning and her eyes were a little tired, she was still so incredibly sexy to him. That abundance of red hair trailed around her shoulders and over her br**sts.
He brushed it back. “Let me have your keys.”
Suddenly shy, her gaze dropped away from his. “What are you going to do?”
“Check it out, make sure you’re alone.”
That brought her attention back with startled worry. “You think someone could have gotten in?”
He squeezed her shoulders. “Probably not, but I’ll feel better once I see how safe your place is.”
A pulse fluttered in her throat as she stared at his mouth. “I’m not sure...”
Damn but she could tempt a saint, so what chance did a sinner like him have? “I’ll look around, check on things and then leave.”
“I suppose you’re good at picking out security problems.” Looking at the door again, she made up her mind. “Okay, thank you. I appreciate it.” She handed over her keys.
Rowdy was so used to her stubborn streak of independence, he didn’t quite trust her when she was like this. She hid something—but what?
The setup of the building sucked. Here on the landing, she was trapped. No window, no door but into her apartment. He unlocked and opened the door, reached inside and found a light switch. Unlike at his place, lamps came on beside a stuffed couch.
Rowdy brought her in with him, left the door open and said, “Wait here.” Before she could protest, he went through the apartment, glancing long enough at the small open kitchen to see a box of Cocoa Puffs sitting on the counter. Cold, sugary cereal, huh? Somehow that fit.
The first door led to a miniscule bathroom with a cluttered counter. Makeup, blow-dryer, a basket of girlie-looking headbands and hair ties. He pushed back the shower curtain and found an array of bottles surrounding the narrow tub—shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, bubble bath.
The woman took her bathing very seriously.
He left that room and glanced into a hall closet that held her towels, extra blanket and pillow and more toiletries. Avery said not a single word as he went into her bedroom.
First things first, he checked her closet, moving her clothes around to look behind them. She had a wardrobe of T-shirts, sweatshirts, sweaters and jeans, with only a few dresses and skirts thrown in. A pile of shoes and boots littered the floor of the closet. He never would have pegged Avery to be so messy, but he kind of liked it.
He didn’t see any real dirt, just a whole bunch of disorganization.
Her bedroom window overlooked the convenience store and the now-empty lot. After checking the lock on her window, he closed the curtains and bent to peek under her unmade bed. Nothing but dust bunnies, a stray sock and a suitcase. Too curious to let it go, Rowdy tugged at the luggage handle.
It wasn’t empty.
So Avery kept a packed suitcase under her bed. For an emergency exit?
Straightening again, he took a moment to look over her room. Not as utilitarian as his; she had knickknacks everywhere. Change and a few pieces of jewelry littered the single dresser. A scented candle and a book rested on her nightstand. He touched the fluffy comforter and supersoft sheets on her bed. She had three pillows.
“Rowdy?”
“Be right there.” Trying to remove the image of her curled up all warm and sleepy in that bed, he walked out feeling strangely...enlightened.
His bartender didn’t live like a woman from a pampered upbringing. In fact, her messy apartment didn’t look much different from where his sister used to hide out.
Secrets. Avery had them in spades. How hard would it be for him to uncover them?
* * *
WITH A STRANGE sensation of anticipation humming in her veins, Avery watched as Rowdy prowled her apartment. She shouldn’t have left it so cluttered, but there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to do everything that needed to be done.
She had Sundays off, but usually slept late and then spent the day running errands and doing laundry. Who had time to clean?
When Rowdy emerged from her bedroom, her heart thumped harder. “Done snooping?”
“Almost.” He checked out the window in the main living area, and then the smaller window behind her kitchen sink.
She checked out the flex of muscles in his shoulders and the way his butt looked in those threadbare jeans. He had such strong thighs, and such a terrifically muscled backside.
He met her gaze. “They’re locked.”
She knew it, because she kept them that way. In the summer, when it had gotten hot as Hades, she’d run a portable room air conditioner that hadn’t quite cut through the humidity, but at least offered a little relief. “It’s okay?”
