Chapter Eight
LOUIS KNOCKED ON Roxy’s apartment door and waited.
The light filtering through the peephole darkened, then brightened again a second later.
He heard a shuffling sound from inside the apartment, but still the door remained closed.
Whoever had buzzed him into the building knew he would eventually make it up the stairs, right?
Getting into the apartment was a two-step process.
“He’s hot,” a muffled female voice said from the other side. Not Roxy. Maybe a roommate? “He’s at least a nine.”
Nine ? He fought the urge to look himself over and figure out where a point had been deducted. Maybe he should have brought flowers. It would have at least bumped him to a nine point five. “Hey, I can hear you in there. You want to open the door?”
“Yes, but I’m wearing a kimono.”
Too bad it wasn’t Roxy wearing it. He wouldn’t have minded seeing her in a short silk robe. Although at this point, he wouldn’t mind seeing her in a burlap sack. “Do you want to go change?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid if I go change, I’ll miss the date pickup.”
At times like these, he was grateful he’d grown up with two sisters. He spoke fluent female. In most cases, anyway. Apparently Roxy spoke a completely different dialect. “How about you let me in and I’ll close my eyes? I promise not to leave with Roxy until you come back from changing.”
“Yes. That.” The peephole darkened again. “Close your eyes.”
Louis obeyed, wondering when exactly weird doorstep introductions had become the norm in his life. He heard two dead bolts being turned before the door creaked open. A hand curled around his elbow and tugged him through the doorway. “Is she here?”
“We’re all here,” another voice said to his right. Still not the girl he was looking for. “For each other. When things go bad.” Something that sounded like an oven door slammed. “You catch my drift, lawyer?”
“I’m starting to feel at a major disadvantage without my eyes open.”
“Honey, don’t scare him off,” Kimono Girl said. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
He wanted to open his eyes and take in his surroundings or any potential threats from the evil disembodied voices, but he kept his promise and waited until Kimono Girl’s footsteps disappeared before doing so.
Wow. Louis turned in a circle. Knowing what he did about Roxy’s money troubles, he hadn’t expected a place this nice.
It was bigger than his own apartment. To be fair, it needed to accommodate at least three crazy girls, while his only needed to fit one sexually frustrated lawyer.
Still, it relaxed something inside of him, seeing that she lived in a safe building with people who apparently cared enough about her to threaten well-meaning strangers. Speaking of which...
A blonde chopped carrots in the kitchen. With a gleaming butcher knife.
“Hey.” He grinned. “I’m Louis.”
“I know who you are.” Chop. Chop . “I’m Honey. And this is my knife, Bubba.”
Louis nodded once. “Rox?” he called into the giant apartment. “You about ready?”
“Behind you.”
Every muscle in his body tightened at the sound of her smoky voice behind him.
Finally. He wanted to whirl on her and catch her off guard.
Kiss her hard to make up for the last few days of not kissing her.
But he needed to be careful how fast he moved with this girl, needed to feel her out first. Slowly, he turned to face Roxy.
The amusement in her green eyes told him she’d overheard his exchanges with her roommates.
Maybe even had a little appreciation for his efforts to meet the crazy halfway.
That’s all he had time to read on her face before she sauntered toward him and he became aware of her legs. Her breasts. Her hips.
Russell had a theory that every girl owned one perfect dress that could make men do anything they wanted.
Louis had always laughed at his friend, smug in his ability to dictate his own actions.
Make his own decisions. Especially where girls were concerned.
Yet if Roxy told him to leap out the window just then, he’d be a pancake on Ninth Avenue before she finished voicing her request.
More disturbingly, his first coherent thought was not about how the tight material hugged her breasts or how the hem flirted with the middle of her thighs when she walked.
Not even how simple it would be to tug the floaty material up around her waist and get at the panties beneath.
Nope, it was, Who the fuck else has seen her in this dress so I can hunt them down like dogs?
It worried him how intense the thought hurled itself through his head, like it had been fired from a cannon, wrecking everything in its path.
He wanted to back her into the bedroom visible behind her and lock them both inside it.
Fuck the date he had planned. Why couldn’t he be the only one who looked at her? Was that so much to ask?
She stopped in front of him, and her cherry blossom scent went to his head like back-to-back shots of J?germeister. Oh, Jesus. Fuck. She was so pretty up close. He’d forgotten how much.
“Uh-oh. What’s going on in that head of yours, Louis McNally the Second?”
No way could he tell her the truth. She’d lock herself in that room. Without him. If that happened, he just might break down and cry . Casual. Be casual . “Your roommate brandished a weapon at me.”
“She’s Southern.”
“I want to rip that stupid dress off your body,” he murmured for her ears alone. So much for casual.
Those sleep-ruining lips spread into a smile. “Then it’s doing its job.” She sent a look toward the kitchen. “Honey, you mind stowing the knife? Louis is Mama’s friend. He’s not a threat.”
Louis turned just in time for a brunette to charge back into the room, then skid into a casual walk when she saw they hadn’t left.
She looked somewhat familiar to him, but he couldn’t recall where or how he would have met her.
The familiarity might have come from the air she gave off, similar to the people he’d grown up with.
Old money. It was an invisible cloak that sat on her shoulders.
She came forward with her hand out, obviously comfortable with polite formalities. At least, when fully clothed. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Abby. Where are you taking our roommate?”
So this is what it’s like on the other side of an interrogation . “I’m going to feed her first.”
Honey crossed her arms, still holding the knife. “I can feed her right here. What else you got?”
Roxy came up beside him. “O-kay. There’s enough crazy in this room to power New York for a week. Let’s get out of here before they ask for your medical records.”
Abby jogged ahead of them to open the door. “Have a good time. I want to hear all about it when you get back.”
Roxy took her light jean jacket off the wooden coatrack and slipped it on, partially covering her breasts.
He hadn’t noticed the charge at the back of his neck until it disappeared.
God, he needed to cool it. Other men might look at her, but she was out with him .
If he reminded himself of that once in a while, maybe he could prevent a slow descent into lunacy throughout the evening.
“You’re not supposed to let the guy know we’ll be talking about him, Abby.” Roxy smiled as she opened the door. “Better to let him think I have a different date every night.”
Abby nodded, as if cataloguing that information for later. “Right. Even though you don’t.”
“You’re terrible at this.”
With that slip of reassuring information, Abby became front-runner for his favorite roommate.
He smiled at Honey, and she sniffed. Apparently he had some work to do with his potential murderer.
Hopefully he’d get the chance. Taking a gamble, he reached down and clasped Roxy’s hand.
Her smile slipped, but she didn’t pull away. “Ready?”
“Sure.”
On the way out the door, he turned and looked back at Abby. “I’m happy with the nine, but just out of curiosity, what did you deduct the point for?”
She winced. “Don’t make me say it in front of you.”
“Say it,” Honey commanded, her head partially inside the oven.
“You didn’t even shave.”
He ran his free hand over his jaw. “I did this morning. It kind of grew back.”
“Well.” Abby folded her hands in front of her, looking slightly embarrassed. “Next time, then.”
Next time. Yup. Definitely his favorite.
“Good night, ladies. I’d promise to bring her back safely, but you should know something up front.
I’m going to do everything in my power to get her to my place for the night.
I’m actually hoping like hell neither of you sees her until tomorrow.
” All three of their faces transformed with different expressions.
Honey looked disgusted. Abby, scandalized.
Roxy appeared impressed. “Just thought I’d give you fair warning. ”
LOUIS’S WARM HAND felt oddly natural in hers as they walked through Eataly, the massive, multi-floored Italian marketplace.
She’d heard about the bustling foodie Mecca before but had never been inside.
It was actually so freaking huge that every section boasted its own restaurant, with crowds at each one waiting to be seated.
Voices bounced off the dome ceilings, combining with opera music to create a whirlwind of sound.
On a Saturday night, it was particularly busy, but Louis didn’t seem concerned at all about getting a table.
He seemed content to stroll through the aisles, occasionally picking up food samples and handing them to her.
Tugging her closer when they needed to squeeze though human traffic jams. Brushing against her in a way she suspected was strategic.
If so, it was working. Her neck felt sensitive, her lips felt fuller.
And he hadn’t even kissed her yet. Why hadn’t he kissed her yet?
Don’t be a head case. “Which restaurant did you make the reservation for?”