by Katie Allen
“I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Leah held back an eye roll as an excited grin snuck out. “Even though you made us wait, thank you. That was so nice of you to ask him.” She gave Annabelle’s hands a shake. “See? Here’s a fabulous lead already. Quit talking about turning trucker and moving to Florida. Louis Dumont is going to call you.”
“Louis Dumont is calling me.” She sounded dazed, but then the words seemed to click in, and she beamed at Leah. “Louis-fucking-Dumont is calling me about a job.”
Leah grinned back. “Yes, he is.”
“Where’s my phone?” Annabelle’s smile dropped away as she looked around the kitchen wildly. “Oh, banana balls, it’s charging in my room. What if he called and I missed it?”
“Please. Your phone didn’t ring. We would’ve heard it. These walls are so thin, I can hear you turn the page when you’re reading in another room. And even if you did miss his call, you can just call him back.”
Pushing her chair back, Annabelle stood. “I’m going to grab it.” She rushed to the doorway and then turned around and flew over to Hamilton, grabbing him in a hug. “Thank you so much for doing that!”
As she squeezed him around the middle, Hamilton gave Leah a panicked look, holding his arms out to the sides as if he was afraid to touch her. Leah tried not to laugh at his expression as Annabelle ran out of the kitchen to get her phone.
“That was really nice of you,” she said. “Sorry I threw the notebook at you.”
He gave a shrug. “It didn’t hurt.”
It was impossible to stay away from him. Leah stood and prowled over to him. With each nice thing he did, it was harder and harder not to fall for Hamilton. “You sure?” She took his hand in both of hers, turning it over and pretending to inspect his palm. “No paper cuts?”
He watched her, both wary and intrigued. “No.”
“Good.” She massaged his hand, pressing into the meaty spot at the base of his thumb. “No pulled muscles?”
His expression had changed to something close to bliss, his eyes half-closed like a sleepy lion getting his belly scratched. “Maybe. You should probably check to make sure.”
A laugh, low and wicked, bubbled out of her. “That’s a good idea.” Her kneading hands slid to his forearms, tracing over prominent veins before digging into the tight muscles. “How does this feel? Any pain?”
“Not there.” His voice was husky as he shifted his weight, and Leah knew he was resisting the urge to shove her up against the fridge. She appreciated his restraint. This teasing touching was making her head spin in a good way, and anything more was impossible with Annabelle coming back in just seconds.
She took a half-step closer and used her grip on his arms to tug him down. Putting her lips right next to his ear, she exhaled and then watched with delight as goose bumps popped up on his neck. “Where does it hurt?” Her hands moved to his biceps. “Here?”
“No. Lower.”
It was so, so tempting to cut the game short and just grab his dick, but quick footsteps outside the kitchen sent an unwelcome reminder that this wasn’t the time. Gripping his upper arms a final time, she released him, along with a frustrated sigh. When he looked at her with a disappointed question in his eyes, she said, “Annabelle,” just as her roommate bounced in, her phone gripped tightly in her hand and a wide grin on her face.
Although her hair was still doing something crazy, and she hadn’t changed out of her flannel one-piece pajamas, she looked so much happier than she had just a few minutes earlier. Leah gave Hamilton a side-hug and whispered, “Thank you.”
Her roommate’s joy was contagious, and Leah laughed as she rushed forward to give her a squeeze. “Hey, Anna B.”
“Yes, Leah?” Still hugging, they bounced in a circle.
“Louis-fucking-Dumont is going to call you about a job.”
“I know!” She squealed, making Leah laugh again. Over Annabelle’s shoulder, Leah saw Hamilton watching them as the corners of his mouth crooked up. She blew him a kiss and then watched in awe as his smile widened enough to show his dimples. It was then that she knew: This man and his dimples and his kindness to her roommate and his impressive cookie-decorating skills and his big, beautiful body had somehow wiggled their way into her heart.
Chapter Fifteen
She and Annabelle helped Hamilton make dinner, and, in the process, managed to drive him absolutely batty, which was kind of the fun part. It was so important to him that the onions be diced evenly and uniformly, and Annabelle was so giddy with excitement that Leah was surprised she could hold a knife. Leah tried to follow his exacting instructions about cubing cheese, but she had to retaliate when Annabelle tossed a chunk of carrot at her. Their mini-food-fight was nipped in the bud by Hamilton, and his stern reprimand dialed up Leah’s desire for him to a ridiculous degree. After that, she couldn’t concentrate on anything except for the way his arm muscles bulged when he flipped the hamburgers.
Annabelle rested her chin on Leah’s shoulder. “I kind of get your obsession,” she said, keeping her voice low. “He’s still a little uptight for me, but he’s really sweet, and talk about arm porn.”
“I know, right?” They studied him in silence for a few moments. “I’ve started to like the uptightness. It makes it more fun to muss him.”
Annabelle snickered, which set Leah off, and Hamilton grimaced at their giggle-fest. “These will be ready in two and a half minutes,” he said with exaggerated patience. Leah just smiled at him, knowing that her infatuation was obvious but not really caring. He darted a glance at her, and his cheekbones darkened, and Leah could hardly stand it because he was blushing and that was too adorable to take. He cleared his throat. “Could you please set the table?”
Leah couldn’t look away, though, and she continued gazing at him until a grinning Annabelle shoved three plates at her chest. “Sorry,” she mouthed at her roommate, who just smirked at her. Annabelle was obviously too excited to be annoyed with Leah’s Hamilton-based obsession.
As she took her first bite of her hamburger, Leah’s eyes rolled back in her head. “This is so good,” she said, not able to wait until her mouth wasn’t full. Annabelle’s groan agreed with her. Hamilton had mixed garlic and onions and cheese and some other things into the ground beef, and it was amazing. He’d even cut up potatoes to make seasoned oven fries, and Leah couldn’t decide if the burger or the fries were the best thing she’d ever eaten. She’d been so busy—and so distracted by Hamilton—at the bakery that she’d forgotten to eat her sandwich, so this was the first time she’d eaten all day, except for a broken cookie or two.
“Any sign of Stalker Jude today?” Annabelle asked, sneaking one of Leah’s fries off her plate.
“No, but his sister came in.” Leah held up her fork threateningly, warning off future fry stealing. They were so good that she was willing to fight to keep her food. “That was weird and awkward.”
“His sister?” Annabelle looked at Leah’s remaining fries, then her fork, and then the fries again, as if weighing the possible consequences of fry theft.
“Yes, and if you take one more of my fries, I will fork you. Hard.” When Annabelle appeared to give up her evil plan, Leah continued. “He told her we’d been dating for months, and I cheated on him, but then I sent my cop boyfriend to harass him, since I’m apparently a psycho who won’t let him go, even though I don’t want him anymore?”
As Hamilton let out an unhappy grunt, Annabelle stared, her mouth slightly open. “Wait, what?”
“Yep.” Leah shoved a fry in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I felt kind of bad for her. It must be hard to hear that your brother is either a huge liar or delusional.”
“Isn’t that full-on, not-funny stalker behavior, making up a relationship with you like that?” Annabelle sounded uneasy. “He sounds seriously unbalanced.”
“Maybe.” The thought ma
de Leah’s stomach roll uneasily. “It could be that he told her we were dating just to keep her off his back, though.” Even as she said it, she knew it sounded weak. “Like when I was in college and told Grandma that Aspen Lutvel broke my heart, so she’d quit setting me up with her friends’ grandkids for a while.” Hamilton shifted in his chair, his expression unreadable as he fixed her with his hooded gaze.
“Aspen Lutvel?” Annabelle repeated doubtfully. “Isn’t he the guy who tried mansplaining baguettes to you?”
“Ugh. He was the worst.” Leah made a face at the memory. The baguette lecture was only a small part of the horrendousness that was the date with Aspen.
“You went out with him once. How did he break your heart?”
“He didn’t,” Leah said. “That’s the point. I just didn’t want Grandma setting me up with any more ‘nice young men.’”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you. You should have seen the guy my parents tried to fix me up with last time I went to Flor—Hey!” Annabelle cut herself off and glared at Leah. “Quit trying to change the subject. How dangerous is this Jude guy? Be honest.”
“It’s highly possible that he’s a threat.” Hamilton leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. Leah wished he wouldn’t do that. It made his biceps bulge in distracting ways, and she had to concentrate on not letting him scare Annabelle, whose eyes had gotten huge.
“What kind of threat? Do you think he’d hurt Leah? Try to kidnap her and keep him in his basement?”
“No,” Leah said before Hamilton could answer, giving him a warning glance. “All he’s done so far is sit at the bakery and eat croissants, walk in the kitchen through an open door, act pissy, and lie to his sister. Since Ham ran him off, Jude hasn’t even shown his face in or around the bakery.”
“That we know of.”
Bugging her eyes out at Hamilton, Leah held back an aggravated growl. “Stop trying to scare her.”
“I’m not. I’m being realistic. You give people the benefit of the doubt, and they usually don’t deserve it.”
“I do not.” She paused, confused by the insult that wasn’t really an insult. “Okay, maybe I do, but I think they deserve it more often than not.”
His gaze was locked on hers. “I’m not willing to risk your safety because you want to hold on to your faith in the positive side of human nature.”
“As much as I appreciate your concern, I’m not crazy about how you’re dismissing my opinion and implying that I’m an idiot.”
“Not an idiot.” His expression didn’t change as he argued, and it was making her crazy. Her emotions were churning around inside her, and she wanted to see some sort of sign that he was just as affected. “Optimistic. Possibly a little naïve.”
“Naïve?” She leaned toward him, resisting the urge to jump out of her chair and tackle him, and not in the sexy way she usually wanted to tackle him. This time, she just wanted to punch him. “I am not naïve!”
“You are in this case. How do you not see that Jude is a real threat?” His voice rose slightly, and Leah pushed aside her own anger to examine him closely. Although his expressionless mask was in place, it was warping a bit around the edges. His mouth tucked in and down at the corners, and the lines of his face were tighter than normal. The twitch in his eyelid gave away his feelings, as well—Hamilton was terrified for her.
Somehow knowing that wiped all Leah’s anger away. Standing up, she walked around behind him. He kept his gaze fixed on her the whole time, his glare smoldering with suppressed emotion. She wondered how she’d thought he’d been neutral earlier.
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind, she could feel the tension that vibrated through him. She kissed him on the cheek and spoke quietly by his ear. “I do see him as a possible threat, but scaring Annabelle won’t help anything. You’ve been with me when I’ve walked to work and back, and I’ll drive if you’re not available. I’ve kept the back door locked. Officer Castillo knows what’s going on, and he’s talked to Jude. I understand why you’re worried, but I’m not ignoring the danger. I’m taking precautions, but I’m not freaking out needlessly about it. Okay?”
He was silent and stiff for several moments before he blew out an audible breath. His muscles softened slightly under her hold. “Yes.”
She kissed him again, this time on the rim of his ear, and she felt him shiver. His reaction made her smile, glad that she wasn’t the only one reduced to jelly by a simple, light kiss. “Good. Want some brownies?”
“Yes.” Reaching up, he grasped her forearms, holding her in place as he turned his head to kiss her jaw. A ripple of pleasure spread out from the point of contact, and she resisted the urge to drop onto his lap and kiss the stuffing out of him. After all, as fun as it would be, Annabelle would probably find it awkward. Giving him a final squeeze, she disentangled herself from him and grinned when she saw Annabelle had her back to them as she retrieved the cookie jar.
“It’s safe to turn around now,” Leah said, sitting back down in her chair.
“All clothes are on?”
“No nakedness allowed in the kitchen. You know my rules.”
Laughing, Annabelle carried the brownie-filled cookie jar over and set it in the middle of the table. “I thought maybe your horniness mowed down your rules.”
Hamilton let out a half choke, half cough, and Leah and Annabelle grinned at each other.
Sobering, Annabelle gave her a stern look. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
Holding out her hand, pinkie extended, Leah said, “I promise.”
Annabelle hooked her pinkie with Leah. “Keep Mr. Muscles P. Hamilton close by.” He made another slightly strangled sound.
With a smile, Leah nodded. That would be a fun promise to keep.
Chapter Sixteen
Climbing into her elderly sedan, Leah resisted the urge to slam the door, pulling it gently shut, instead. After all, it wasn’t her sleeping neighbors’ fault that the past two nights hadn’t gone as planned, and it would be rude to make noise at three on a Monday morning. Even though Sunday had been her day off, she was tired and cranky and annoyed at herself for letting Hamilton’s absence affect her so strongly.
After she and Hamilton had given each other googly eyes through brownies and cleanup on Saturday night, she’d been wound up and ready to drag him to her bedroom. Before that could happen, though, he’d gotten a call about a broken water line in one of the buildings he owned. After a hard, fast kiss that did nothing but rev up her hunger for him, he’d left.
She yawned as she cranked the engine. Sleeping alone the past couple of nights had felt strange. Hamilton had only shared her bed a few times, but she was already accustomed to it. She’d spent more time staring at the ceiling than sleeping for the last two nights, and the bed had seemed unpleasantly empty without Hamilton there, doing his cuddling octopus thing.
What made it worse was that he hadn’t called or texted or visited since he’d left on Saturday, and she was getting very sick of his habit of disappearing without a word. It felt like they were on a roller coaster, and the ride kept starting—only to jerk to a stop just before the good part. Leah was feeling frustrated and more than a little insecure, and her early morning schedule didn’t help matters.
“Next time I see you, buddy, we’re having a talk. I don’t care if I have to duct-tape you to a stool. We’re hashing this out.”
Stomping on the brake pedal with more force than was required, she shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. After only a few blocks, the stoplight turned red, and she stopped. No one else was in sight, and she was tempted to blow through the red light, but the rule-follower inside of her wouldn’t let her.
As she waited, she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw headlights behind her. “Good. Maybe they’ll trigger the light to change.” To her disappointment, though, the SUV turned into an alley and disappeared.
No one else was around, and she sat at the light, feeling sillier and sillier for not just going through. Just as she eased up on the brake, it turned green.
As she rolled through the intersection, she glanced down the cross street. Even though she was used to driving at this time in the very, very early morning, when even the most hard-core partiers were tucked into bed, and the exercisers hadn’t gotten up yet, the quiet city seemed different today. It felt too empty, almost eerie, and she pushed on the accelerator, wanting to get into her brightly lit kitchen before her imagination could start throwing terms like “zombie apocalypse-esque” and “post-pandemic deathscape” at her.
She pulled into the lot, parking on the far side to keep the close-in spots available for her customers. As she locked her car and headed for the bakery, she couldn’t keep from glancing at the dark windows of the loft above. Was he home? A broken water line could cause a huge mess, she knew, but why hadn’t he simply texted her?
Why didn’t you text him? a too-practical voice in her head asked, but she shoved it away. She’d already admitted—several times—that she was loopy over him. If he was trying to dodge her, she didn’t want to stalk him. As she unlocked the door, she held back a groan. Was she Hamilton’s Jude?
No, that same reasonable voice answered, and she knew it was right. She’d made it clear to Jude that there could never be anything between them—she’d even made the same thing clear to his sister. If Hamilton had even hinted that he didn’t want to be around her, she would’ve crawled into her bakery cave and never, ever shown her face again. Instead, he’d sought her out, offering to work and staying with her and taking sexy showers with her and walking with her and snuggling excessively and sticking his face between her thighs.
The last thought made her groan out loud as the memory made her go hot all over. It was going to be a long day if she was already lusty for Hamilton at 3:00 a.m. Stripping off her hoodie, she tucked it and her bag under the counter as she tried to shove all thoughts of her too-attractive landlord out of her head. She had baking to do. There was no time to pine for her crush.