by AM Hartnett
‘Really?’ She feigned concern as they slowly made their way up to the second floor. ‘Seems kind of tame. At the very least I’m thinking zombie Jim Morrison.’
‘Sure, if you want to look like some kind of moron.’
‘Or I could just be letting my true self shine through for the first time in my life.’ She laughed at his dubious look and paused with him at the top of the stairs, then crinkled her nose. ‘Who keeps frying fish?’
‘That would be Mrs Boyd,’ he said, lowering his voice. He leaned close enough that his cinnamon gum overpowered the stench of fried fish. ‘The fish thing is only on Friday. She fries potatoes for the rest of the week, and burns them to a crisp. She also likes to spy.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yeah, she’s over there in her nightgown right now, watching through her peephole. If you ever bring a date home, go up the fire escape, otherwise she’ll open her door and glare at you.’
April giggled. She loved his proximity and his playful tone. ‘What would she think about you and me standing here, head to head like this?’
‘Don’t you worry, I’ll hear about it. She’ll find something wrong so she can get me into her apartment and glare at me while I try to fix it, then make comments about “those girls”.’
‘Oooh, I kind of like the sound of that. “Those girls.” A bit naughty, isn’t it?’ Mostly she liked the way he said the phrase, with that perfect growl. She wondered if he had a girlfriend.
His grin turned crooked and once more his gaze swept over her new hair. ‘She probably won’t even know you’re the same girl as the blonde who moved in. She has to take her glasses off to see through the peephole. You’re one of “those girls” but I’m a – what’s her word for it? A cad.’
‘Good God, how old is she?’
‘Almost ninety.’
April shook her head. ‘If being a nosy busybody is what’s waiting, who would want to live that long?’
It took a herculean effort not to cringe all over. Aw shit. Dead wife and you say something like that.
Thankfully, Seth agreed with her. ‘I’d rather live to eighty and then just call it a day.’
The conversation came to a dead halt, but April wasn’t finished with him just yet. She loved the way his amused gaze kept on flitting over her changed look. Hell, she just liked having him look at her, and every so often she’d get that brief and unabashed expression that told her he was wondering what she looked like stripped down.
‘Were things too loud last night?’ she asked to keep him there. ‘I was trying to keep things down, but my friends kind of took over with the really bad music.’
‘It was no problem,’ he said, and finished off with a laugh that suggested to her that he had just made a full-of-shit statement.
She called him on it. ‘Make you want to poke holes in your eardrums?’
‘A little bit. Big night?’
‘Not really. Just getting out and exploring the neighbourhood. It really is a great place. I may be shooting myself in the bank account, but you could crank up the rent and make a fortune, what with everything that’s around here and the location.’
‘I could, but then I’d have to lose all my good tenants. It’s hard enough with the ones that migrate to the suburbs.’
‘Your friends? The ones who used to live in my apartment and the one above?’
Seth nodded, and April noted that he looked a little uncomfortable.
Another mental note checked. Her suspicions that he had been involved with the woman who lived in her apartment strengthened, and she remembered the man’s – Ryan’s? – equally uncomfortable pause when she had asked what sort of landlord Seth was. At the time she had chalked it up to him wanting to get his security deposit back without burning bridges.
Maybe her landlord was more trouble than she wanted to get into? Maybe, in spite of the sad back story, he lived up to the way he looked.
She gazed at those thick forearms and imagined gripping them as he pumped into her, and she was pretty sure he would be worth all the trouble he could dish out.
‘I don’t understand the appeal,’ he said, and it took a minute for her to claw her way out of her fantasy and realise they had actually been having a conversation about the building. ‘Even when I was married, it never entered into the equation to move to the outskirts of town. I mean, who wants to be that far from everything?’
‘I just came from the suburbs, and I wholeheartedly agree.’
He cocked his head and his grin widened. ‘That’s right, first apartment on your own.’
In spite of his gentle tone, April’s defences went up a little. She’d been hearing enough of how she was ‘just a pup’ from her co-workers at the Department of Public Works, like she was the first person in the world to sign a lease and move out of her mom’s house.
It was irritating at work, but it was outright embarrassing coming from a guy she had used to christen her fancy sex toy.
Something must have shown on her face, because his smile became a little apologetic. ‘I lived at home until I got married, and then we moved into – get this – a camper trailer with no wheels.’
‘That sounds…nice?’
‘It wasn’t. The thing was forty years old and we paid my brother-in-law fifty bucks a month to park it in his driveway. Damn thing had a hole underneath the kitchen sink, and we’d have to tie the cupboard up with twine to keep the raccoons from crawling in. Still, we were pretty pumped that we were home-owners at twenty-one, even if the home was shit – so you’re doing better than we did.’
‘We.’ Again and again. She wanted to know more about his late wife, but she didn’t dare ask. Just because he was all right with talking about it didn’t mean that she was allowed to probe.
‘I won’t miss the suburbs,’ she said to get back on track. ‘No lawnmowers first thing in the morning zooming past my window.’
‘Yeah, you’ve got a nice buffer where you are, and even if you hear me out there there’ll only be five minutes’ worth of mowing.’ He leaned in a little bit. ‘Though, if I get at it before noon, feel free to come out and tell me off.’
Hell, she wouldn’t mind coming out to watch him push a mower across the lawn, especially if he did it in a tight shirt or, better yet, shirtless.
Jesus, April – can you stop being a pervert for ten minutes?
‘Anyway,’ he said, signalling the end of their conversation whether she liked it or not, ‘I’ve got to get back to it, and I think we’ve given you-know-who enough to talk about for a while.’
‘Long enough to establish me as the official hussy of Winsloe Court?’
‘Hey, now, don’t make me defend your honour.’
‘Against myself?’
‘Well, maybe not – and I kind of like that word “hussy”. Maybe that’s what I’ll start calling you.’ His grin got really big, and a little naughty. ‘The hussy in apartment 3B.’
Even though it was a joke, the way he said that ridiculous word was criminally hot and only further inspired her filthy fantasies. She could hear him doing it while he lifted her skirt to get a peek of whatever frilly things she wore underneath.
The heat started to flood her face and she knew she was about to light up, so she started up the next set of stairs.
‘I’ll talk to you later, then,’ she said, and took another quick look back. ‘And thanks about my hair.’
‘Later,’ he called.
Once she was in her apartment, she dropped her purse and threw herself face-down on the sofa.
‘God, you’re turning into a sex maniac,’ she said into the new-smelling sofa cover.
The best thing she could do for herself was stay away from the hot landlord, she decided, but she knew she’d never have that amount of discipline.
Even checking her phone to find a message from Todd didn’t have half the punch of bumping into Seth. She was quickly moving from lust to crush territory, and that wasn’t good.
Seth sat in his favourite
chair and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes so hard they hurt.
‘I’m officially the creepy old man in the building,’ he murmured.
The flirting and the eye-fucking were getting out of hand, and now he’d humiliated himself further by christening her ‘the hussy in 3B’.
Lame.
He wasn’t sure if she’d been flirting back. Well, he’d been sure at the time, but now that he replayed their exchange he doubted himself. Maybe she was just humouring him. That exit was pretty quick. Lightning-fast. She ran up those stairs.
With a sigh, he sprawled back in the chair and looked around the apartment. His gaze fell upon his project on the dining-room table, and he groaned.
And you couldn’t shut up about Rita.
Normally he liked talking about Rita. He could yak someone’s ear off about what a dream she was.
Talking to April about Rita felt…off. Like he shouldn’t be showcasing what a sad fuck he was. He’d never had any qualms about sounding off to Evie, but then again he had never gotten that tickle in his gut when he talked to Evie. They’d been friends – and, later, a little more – and talking about Rita had just been a part of it.
Now he felt like he had announced to April that he sat alone in his apartment on a Friday night sorting old pictures. Which was completely true, and completely sad.
He looked at the painting that hung over the sofa. He rarely talked back to the voice in his head, but when he did he refused to talk to dead air. If he was going to address her and the little tsk tsk she put into his head, he was damn well going to give shit to the one thing he knew she loved more than him and that fucking cat – her painting of…whatever the hell that was supposed to be.
‘Is this what you had in mind, woman? Shoving my foot in my mouth like an asshole?’
Shut up, Wolfman.
Chapter Five
April would never confess to it except under threat of having the contents of her hard drive exposed, but she had been avoiding the elevator ever since the painting began two days earlier.
Not that she had a thing for paint fumes or navigating around drop cloths, but she was quickly becoming addicted to the sight that greeted her these days.
He’d put up a chair rail and wainscoting. He’d sanded. He’d primed. He’d painted the walls a greenish blue. He’d painted the wainscoting white.
All the while with his shirt off and tucked into the back of his jeans.
She’d almost melted when she first got a look at that bare back and enormous arms. She knew about the ink that splashed his arms – she’d eye-fucked them enough since moving in – but she had been oblivious of the scrawl down his shoulder blades. It took her a lot of covert squinting to finally read it: ‘Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.’
She’d googled it on her phone as soon as she was sitting in the front seat of her car. It was a quote from The Wizard of Oz. An odd choice for a man who looked like he should have Lynyrd Skynyrd lyrics inked somewhere, and she wondered whether the tattoo had come before the dead wife or as a result of.
Even if the tattoo did have a sad story to go with it, she still found it hot.
Today, like every other day, she slowed down when she reached where Seth was. He faced away from her so she didn’t have to pretend to be rummaging through her purse for something. She could just ogle him as she came down the second flight of stairs.
With his dark hair pulled into a bun at the back of his head and bare skin streaked with white paint, a picture of him posted to her Facebook wall would have caused a frenzy. Hell, she was tempted to take a quick video later for her own use, but she doubted she’d forget the way the muscles moved beneath olive skin.
Hanging back a moment longer, she forgot completely about her date with Todd and sank her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from whimpering as Seth squatted and his old track pants slipped a little lower on his narrow hips.
Enough of this, she thought, and strode forward.
‘Looking good,’ she said, gesturing at the wall, though she could have given a flying fuck about the wall.
He flashed her one of those panty-wetting smiles. ‘You don’t think the blue looks too nursery?’
‘It’s more green than blue, and it keeps things light. You’re not fixing it up to sell this place, are you?’
‘I’ve got no intentions,’ he assured her as he straightened up.
Another pornographic moment smacked her in the face as he pulled his hanging T-shirt from his waist and wiped the sweat from his face with it, then tossed the shirt to the ground. God, she could just imagine him doing it at the foot of her bed, right after he stripped her and spread her out with those rough hands.
‘It’s overdue,’ he went on, unaware of the things he did to her in her mind. ‘I need something to fill my time, anyway.’
‘I could think of more exciting ways to fill your time.’
She hadn’t meant her words to come out like that, but she couldn’t help it, not when all she could do was wonder whether the hair above his lip would tickle or prick as he tongued her clit.
If he had been oblivious before, it was clear to April that moment was gone. A crooked grin matched the naughty look in his eyes. ‘So could I.’
April nearly whimpered as he looked down her body. If he’d pushed her against the wet paint and driven up into her, she wouldn’t have shed a tear over ruining this new dress.
It ended when his smile turned sweet. ‘You look nice. Very summery.’
‘Just in time for it to end.’ She wished she didn’t have to leave. She would have been perfectly happy to take a seat on the step-ladder and see just how far she could get him to flirt back.
‘What’s the occasion?’
‘Lunch with a friend,’ she lied, though she didn’t know why. He hadn’t made a move and she wasn’t even sure he would, but she still didn’t want him thinking she was off the market because of a simple lunch date.
‘With the red-haired guy on the stoop?’
Disappointment crashed through her. She’d told Todd to wait for her at the café around the corner.
‘Yeah. I guess he didn’t buzz me.’
‘I think he wanted to surprise you. He’s got a flower.’
It was obvious that he was trying not to laugh after he said that. April had no such will-power. She laughed and gave him a slap on the arm.
‘Some people find that romantic, you know.’
‘Not me,’ he said, then guffawed. ‘I guess that’s why he’s waiting on the stoop for a hot date and I’m sweating off baby-blue paint.’
April tried not to grin too widely as she moved away, but she lost it when she got to the staircase.
‘Can you keep a secret?’
‘Sure can.’
‘I’m not really a flowers kind of girl.’
Seth’s mouth crooked. ‘What kind of girl are you?’
‘Vodka in a nice glass would win me over.’
‘Ah, so you’re more of a bad girl.’
Oh, damn, she loved how he said that. Bad girl. God, she’d be his bad girl all he wanted if he asked.
But he didn’t. Instead he glanced away, blushing a little, and hoisted his can of paint onto the step-ladder.
‘Maybe if this doesn’t work out you can find out,’ she said, and lingered long enough to watch the red begin to splotch upwards towards his ears.
She couldn’t believe she’d said that. She was so light and dizzy as she headed down the stairs, it was a wonder she didn’t trip.
Guilt poked her in the gut as she spotted Todd where Seth had said he was. She realised now that she really wasn’t that into him, especially not at that moment when she was still simmering from her encounter with Seth.
Still, she smiled as she pushed open the door. ‘Hey, I thought we were meeting around the corner.’
He smiled wide and held up a flower. Nothing as cheesy as a rose, thank God, but a sunny yellow flower.
‘I’m a little
romantic,’ he said, and as she met his shining green eyes she softened just a little.
‘You’re definitely making an impression. It’s beautiful, thanks. But…hang on just a second.’
She popped back into the foyer and left the flower in her mailbox so she could put it in water when she returned, then slipped her arm into his when he offered.
She’d been gone for ten minutes and he was still semi-hard.
What the fuck did she mean by that?
It was moments like this that he wished Evie was still around so he could ask her. Of course, he didn’t have anyone to blame for that but himself, what with giving her and Ryan the boot after the shit hit the fan – and if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have had a little flirt with the cutie upstairs and ended up with the conundrum of yet another hard-on.
‘Gotta get laid,’ he murmured to himself for the umpteenth time, and closed his eyes as he wiped the sweat out of his eyes.
Or get a fucking rubber woman before you break your wrist, Wolfman.
That whole ‘bad girl’ thing just slipped out, and as soon as it did he’d wanted to get his nail gun, aim it up his nostril and hope he hit the part of his brain that made him talk to young women he barely knew like they were filming a porno.
What the fuck did she mean by that?
Either she was just going along with it to shut him up, or he was actually having a moment with the adorable blonde-turned-brunette upstairs. If it was the latter, he didn’t know how he felt about it. Erection aside, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to start up a…thing.
The last thing he got himself into could have ruined his friendship with Evie, and Ryan still had no idea how close he had been to getting a punch in the face at the end. He swore then and there that he wouldn’t fuck around with his tenants ever again.
Then came April Kaye, and he practically jizzed in his pants whenever he was done talking to her.
She wasn’t his type, or so he assumed. She was too young, for one. Her taste in music was horrible. She liked to get dressed up and go out. Sure, she was witty and made him laugh, but what common ground could they possibly find, aside from the fucking?