by S. Cook
“Tammy, come on. I can’t wear that dress and deliver cookies.”
“Why not?”
“You know why. Because I bought it to wear with Bryan. I can’t wear his dress to hit on another man.”
“Bryan is in the past, sweetie. It would be a shame for you to let that dress die without achieving its true glory. Imagine—that dress was designed by a great artist. Sewn by the capable, loving hands of a seamstress.” She looked down at her spread fingers as she talked. “And made and priced and marketed exactly for someone like you. Someone who’s waiting to get it on with the perfect man.”
I laughed. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
Tammy flipped her hair over her shoulder. “That dress needs to be worn.” She beckoned with her hand. “Come on.”
“Where?”
“It’s about time we bake some cookies and welcome your new man to the neighborhood.”
“He’s not my new man,” I said, but Tammy was already walking out the door. “He’s not!” I tried again.
“Don’t care!” Tammy shouted back.
Chapter Three
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I snapped at Tammy, tugging on the hem of my dress—the dress—which felt too tight, too short...too much.
I felt as if my ass was going to pop out at any moment and moon everyone in my building.
What had I been thinking when I bought it?
Oh right, I was going to wear it in Vegas. But for a normal day in Long Beach, especially for a casual knock on my neighbor’s door, it felt like trying too hard.
Anything would have felt like too much. Except maybe baggy pajamas and a tank top, which sounded much more comfortable than the skin-tight dress I wore.
“Stop that.” Tammy slapped my hand away. “You look sexy.”
“Skanky is more like it.”
“No way. Look at your ass.” She shook her head. “Damn, Bryan was a fool to let you out of his sight.”
“Come on, I don’t want to do this—”
“Just knock on the door and tell him you made some extra cookies and that he should try them,” Tammy said. She closed my door half-way, pushing me further into the hallway. “I’ll be waiting here. Spying on you through the peephole.”
“Creeper,” I hissed. “This is a stupid idea.”
“Not listening.” Tammy flashed a cheeky grin and slammed the door shut.
Holding a plate of freshly baked, admittedly delicious cookies—all Tammy’s work, of course—I felt a bit ridiculous. Why had I stupidly allowed Tammy to do my makeup and dress me up? My heels were way too high to walk in.
My vision seemed to blur a little as I began my journey across the hall. The three steps to the door of 4B felt like a mile of tightrope over the Grand Canyon.
I knocked on the door lightly, my hands shaking.
“Louder!” I heard a whisper behind me.
I groaned, rolled my eyes, and knocked again.
The door swung open almost immediately. I found myself staring up into those deep, brown eyes again. He was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. His eyes were narrowed, a bit puffy, as if he had just woken up.
His hair looking tousled and rumpled. The sight of the five o’clock shadow on his face made my thighs automatically press together.
“H-hi!” I said, a bit too enthusiastically.
He flinched. Which made me flinch.
What if he worked nights and I’d woken him up?
“Yeah. Uh, hi,” he said.
His gaze moved down the length of my body. His lips parted just a little in response.
I felt blatantly aware of my pushed-up breasts. My hips were too wide, my legs too exposed, my face felt like I had slammed a cake onto it. I swallowed.
“Can I help you?” he asked with a frown.
“Cookies,” I blurted.
He blinked.
I shook my head. Crap, there I go again. “I mean, I made you cookies. To welcome you,” I added. “To the building. Again.”
His brows drew together. “Cookies.” He seemed to taste the word on his tongue, as if he had never heard of it before.
I raised the plate a little higher, the smell hitting my nostrils with a punch. Damn, Tammy sure knew how to bake.
“Okay,” he said. He took the plate from me. “Thanks.”
I let my arms flap at my sides. I had no idea what to do with my hands now. “Welcome...again,” I said.
I was about to turn around and run back to my condo with my tail between my legs, when a corner of his lips lifted. I stopped, mesmerized. It might even be half a smile, if I tilted my head a bit.
“Thanks, again,” he said. He held out his right hand. “I’m Liam, by the way.”
I shook his hand, enjoying the feel of warm, strong fingers gripping mine. He had a firm shake, and the tips of his fingers seemed to linger in the center of my palm before he pulled away.
I tried not to drool when his bicep flexed, wondering what it would feel to have those arms tighten around me.
“Misty,” I said.
“You across the hall, there?” he asked, nodding behind me.
“Yeah.” I smiled, remembering that Tammy was staring at us, and would probably have a full review of my flirting techniques as soon as this was over. “Looks like we’ll be neighbors.”
“Cool.”
Feeling a bit more encouraged, I looked up at him with a smile. “You know, if you’re new in town and you need someone to show you around—”
“I’m not.”
I nearly choked. “W-what?”
“I’m not new in town,” he explained. “I moved from a few blocks away, actually.”
“Oh.”
I wanted to see that smile again, or at least, the full version of it. But his face resumed its somber expression. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but with me.
“But thank you for the offer,” he said, shifting from foot to foot. “And for the cookies.”
“You’re welcome,” I muttered.
“I’ll return the plate soon.”
“Oh. Sure.”
I tried not to sigh.
“Well, I have a lot of unpacking to do.”
I was being dismissed. “Of course.” I took a step back, wobbling on my heels. Fortunately, I regained my balance. Or maybe unfortunately. At least, if I stumbled, he would have no choice but to catch me again, and I could continue admiring his muscles and the brown hues of his irises.
Liam gave a nod and shut the door.
I bolted for my apartment, nearly falling as I spun on my heels. Thankfully, Tammy opened the door in time, and I stumbled inside, aiming straight for the couch.
“That was the stupidest idea ever, thank you very much! I feel like an idiot.”
I attacked the straps of my shoes, yanking them off one by one.
“What happened?” Tammy asked. She kept a safe distance from the sofa.
“He totally rejected me.”
“You asked him out?”
“I said that if he needed someone to show him around the city, I’d be happy to help.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t even let me finish. Shot me down completely.” I buried my face in my hands. “That was so embarrassing.”
Tammy paused. She tiptoed a few steps closer. “Was he even remotely interested?”
I took a moment to replay the encounter in my mind. “He checked me out,” I admitted. “But barely. Obviously didn’t like what he saw.”
Tammy didn’t say anything for a moment. “Well, then screw him,” she hissed. “You’re a sexy mama. He must be gay or something—”
“I don’t think he’s gay.”
Tammy struggled for words. “Well...then...I... Something’s wrong with him. You look amazing, and if he can’t see that, then he must be blind...or something.”
I fought back a smile.
“What’s so funny?” Tammy demanded.
“It’s just...he
must be something if he can get you all speechless like that.” I looked up at my friend, wiping away a tear from the corner of my eye.
Tammy frowned. “You crying, sweetie? That bastard make you cry?”
“I’m—I’m fine.” I took a deep breath. “But you know what? You’re right.”
Tammy touched her chest. “I am?”
“Yeah. I am a sexy mama.” I laughed, unable to say the words with a straight face.
Tammy’s grin spread across her face, all straight and white-toothed. “Hell yeah you are! I told you. If he can’t see it, then he just isn’t right in the head. We can’t fix stupid. You know what I mean?”
I laughed again. “And I gave him your cookies.” She shook her head. “All that deliciousness gone to waste.”
“I can always make more.” She started for the kitchen without waiting for an answer. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“No. I have a better idea.”
I rose to my feet. I lifted my chin, trying to channel the strong, confident vixen I knew lived inside me somewhere. It didn’t help much that I had already taken off my shoes and lost the four inches it had given me. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow.”
Tammy turned slowly. When she saw that I was serious, she clapped her hands together. “You serious?”
I nodded. “Yeah. If I’m going to snag some hot dates, I’m going to look hot doing it.”
“Are you really serious? Don’t kid around with me.”
I squared my shoulders. “If Liam doesn’t want me, he doesn’t know what he’s missing. But I’ll have plenty of fun showing him.”
Chapter Four
I took off my cover-up, revealing the new, neon pink bikini I bought yesterday on my shopping spree with Tammy. My first instinct was to dive straight into the water before anyone could see me.
Then I remembered that it didn’t matter.
The shared rooftop pool was surprisingly empty. Trying not to feel self-conscious, I dipped my feet in and sat on the ledge, leaning my head back and enjoying the last rays of sunlight before the day ended.
A nervous twinge shot through my belly. In just a few hours, I was supposed to have dinner with David, a man Tammy swore was perfect for me. I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe in deeply. I wasn’t going to let anything ruin the night.
Over the phone, David had said he had booked reservations at a French bistro in town, the La Vie en Rose. Probably the intellectual type, spoke a bit of French, wanted three kids in his future, and had a stable job.
Tammy said he was hot. In my mind, I pictured a tall man, his hair trimmed short, a stubble on his chin. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, nice eyes.
I was so lost in my fantasy that when a door slammed, I jumped in surprised and looked around in a panic. Blinking quickly, I turned and saw a man walking towards me. It took me a moment to realize that it was my neighbor, Liam.
Liam the guy who had turned me down.
Who had taken my cookies and never returned the plate like he said he would.
He saw me and stopped short. He seemed a bit lost for a second as if he was debating whether to continue walking or turn around and run. Eventually, he made up his mind and walked to a lounge chair on the other side of the deck.
I froze too, not sure if I should get up and leave. But why should I? I’d gotten here first. If he wanted to avoid me, he could leave. At the very least, he should have said hello or nodded or done something to greet me.
I didn’t realize I had been gritting my teeth until I heard a grinding noise. I forced my jaw to relax.
As he stripped off his shirt and exposed tanned, ripped abs, I tried not to stare. My eyes widened anyway.
Damn, he was sexy with just the right amount of tattoos and his trimmed beard.
Why didn’t he like me?
Ugh, I was pathetic.
I looked away when he headed towards the pool. He made a perfect swan dive into the deep end of the pool, even though the sign clearly said no diving allowed.
He emerged a few feet away from me, and shook his head, reminding me of a dog shaking to get dry. Water droplets flew from his hair, splashing my body. I gasped from the cold shock.
“Sorry,” he said, but there was a mischievous crinkle at the corners of his eyes.
“No, you’re not,” I said, covering my body with my hands. I pretended to be patting the water droplets away.
I stood and put my cover-up back on, though I knew I had already given him a good view. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my body, which was athletic and slim. But I wasn’t exactly comfortable parading in front of a stranger in practically nothing.
Especially when I had to live across from the stranger and ran the risk of running into him every day.
I ignored Liam’s stare as I sat back down on my lounge chair and opened the magazine I brought with me. I stared blankly at the page, but even Ten Steps to Achieving the Best Orgasm wasn’t enough to distract me from Liam’s presence.
What was he doing there?
What right did he have?
Looking all sexy and dripping and brooding, staring at me like I was some mystery he wanted to solve...or a pastry he wanted to taste?
“How are you supposed to tan if you’ve got that dress on?” he suddenly asked.
His arms were placed over the edge of the pool, and his shoulders bulged and glistened in the soft glow of the sunset.
“It’s a bathing suit cover-up,” I replied. “I’m not trying to tan.”
“Well you’re not swimming.” He swirled a hand in the water. “What are you doing out here by the pool if not swimming or tanning?”
“Reading my magazine.”
I didn’t look at him.
There was a moment of silence as he continued gazing at me. He chuckled. “Suit yourself.”
He kicked off and began to do laps around the pool. I couldn’t help risking occasional glances at him when he wasn’t looking, admiring the smooth way his arms moved through the water.
He was a strong, graceful swimmer.
His body seemed to float through the water like he belonged there. He swam without stopping, his strong arms pushing through the water in a controlled rhythm.
“That must be one interesting article you’re reading,” he said, as he finished his lap and grabbed the edge of the pool with one hand.
I looked hastily back down at my magazine. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you haven’t turned the page or stopped reading it since I got here.”
I flipped a page angrily.
He laughed at me.
I heard water sloshing and was too aware that he had pushed himself out of the pool and grabbed a towel. When he sat in the chair next to me, I felt his presence like a hot brand against the side of my body.
My nerves sizzled at his masculine nearness. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my heart pounded loudly against my ribcage.
I tried to ignore him. But when a few moments went by with only silence between us, I was forced to finally look at him.
“What?” I snapped.
He smiled—a real, genuine smile. I pressed my lips together to stop my mouth from returning the contagious expression.
“Did we somehow get off on the wrong foot?” he asked slowly.
“No. Why?”
“Because I feel as if you’re mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
He shrugged. “My question exactly.”
“I’m not mad at you. I don’t even know you.”
“That tone.” He pulled the towel over his hair and scrubbed. More water droplets splashed on me, but I ignored them. “Says you’re lying.”
I slapped my magazine down on my legs. “What tone are you talking about?”
He grinned. It transformed his face instantly. Which only infuriated me more.
I sighed. “Fine. Let’s get this out in the open then.”
He bowed his head in a mock gesture. “Yes, please.”
“I offered you cookies the other day and you rejected me.”
A frown appeared on his brows. “I accepted the cookies.”
“You accepted the cookies,” I said. “But you rejected me.”
“So in offering the cookies to me you were offering yourself?” His lips quirked up just a bit. “Sorry if I didn’t realize the cookies were a metaphor for your...er...body.”
I gripped the magazine so hard my fingers ached. “They’re not,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I’m confused. Now you’re saying you weren’t offering me your body by offering me cookies?”
“I was offering you...” I cut myself short. My mouth opened and closed as I struggled for the right words. “I don’t know,” I finally burst out.
Liam laughed. “Okay.”
“Just be quiet.”
“Okay.”
I glared at him.
His laughter subsided into a smile. He didn’t say anything.
“Not one word,” I repeated. Despite myself, I found my lips turning upward into a smile, even though my blood was still simmering.
“I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
I tried to soften my scowl. “I guess so.”
“How about we call a truce.”
He dropped the towel on the ground and reached out with his right hand. I swallowed, keeping my gaze focused on his face, or at least, anywhere above his neck, and shook his hand.
“Sure.” I tried to keep my mouth shut—tried to—really, I did, but I couldn’t have stopped what came out of my mouth next if I had sewn my lips shut. “Why didn’t you ask me out the other night? I was practically throwing myself at you.” I felt my entire body heat up with embarrassment. Crap, had I really just said that?
Liam didn’t seem shocked at all. “To be honest, I just got out of a relationship,” he said. “That’s why I moved. And I don’t think I’m ready to be dating yet.”
That was a relief. At least he hadn’t rejected me because he wasn’t attracted to me.
“Trust me, I would have hit on you if you’d found me months earlier.”
I laughed. “Thanks...I guess.” There was a brief pause before I asked, “So how long ago did you two break up, if you don’t mind me asking?”