He might not be so experienced when it came to dating and relationships, but he knew what to do in bed. Or on a couch. Or against a wall.
He grinned at that. With any luck she’d be as confused as he was about their nonexistent relationship and come on over to discuss it. Then he’d offer her some no-strings-attached orgasms.
He groaned, remembering how good she’d tasted, how sleek and pretty she was between her legs.
Yeah. He’d set the bait. Now he had only to sit back and wait for the siren next door to take it.
But damned if the woman would do things the easy way.
By Wednesday afternoon, Smith had had enough. For once he had a day off, so at ten in the morning, he pounded on Erin’s door.
No one answered.
He left and stomped down the hall to knock at Tilly’s.
She answered in a huff. “What?”
“Is Erin here?”
Tilly blinked. “Erin? She lives right next to you, dumbass.”
Smith gritted his teeth. “I know that. I want to talk to her, but she’s not home. I thought she might be here taking care of you, Mrs. McMouth.”
Tilly laughed. “Ah, to be young and stupid again. Come on in, numbnuts. I have cookies.”
Since he’d given himself a stomachache by eating all of his molasses cookies Monday evening while waiting for Erin to come over, he had no problem eating more of Tilly’s. Erin had apparently made her some kind of lemon bar, and Smith devoured three of them before Tilly smacked his hands and hid them away.
“Jesus, boy. When’s the last time you ate?”
“Last night. I don’t know.” Agitated, his appetite either nonexistent or off the charts, and fretting about stupid shit, Smith had been at odds to explain his disturbing fascination with Erin. She was just a woman, after all. A nice young woman from Kansas who was new to town. He hadn’t thought she had a treacherous bone in her body. Now he wasn’t so sure. “Tilly, what do you know about Erin?”
Tilly would tell him the truth. They had an honest relationship built on trust and hating people. They liked each other, would never admit it, and mostly loathed everyone else.
“What do you want to know?”
“Quit playing dumb. Is she dating a bunch of guys or what? Was Cody her only boyfriend?” Because the woman being a player would make so much more sense than that Smith had fallen for a woman too innocent to know she was driving him insane.
“’Fraid she is what she looks like, Smith. Erin’s a nice girl, too nice, if you ask me.” She paused, her eyes narrowed, no doubt waiting for an obnoxious comment. He waited her out, and she huffed in disappointment before adding, “Her family’s all in Kansas, I think. Except for a sister in New Jersey. Or Pennsylvania. Some place in the northeast. Erin came out here for that idiot boyfriend who was cheating on her. She’s all alone here but for me and you.” Tilly gave a pregnant pause. “So I introduced her to my nephew, Rupert. He’s showing her the town, if you know what I mean.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and Smith saw red.
Then common sense prevailed. Tilly was nearly eighty. Her nephew had to be in his fifties or sixties. He shook his head. “Oh, I know what you mean.”
She grinned at him. “What do you want with the girl, anyway?”
“Never mind. I’ll talk to her when I see her again.”
“That’s if she doesn’t see you and run the other way.” She slapped her leg and laughed. And laughed some more at his sour expression.
“Whatever.” He left Tilly in a great mood and spent his morning lifting weights to work out his aggression. Then a run in the cool October air helped clear his mind. After he returned home and showered, he cleaned his apartment, not a fan of dust or clutter. Enough time had passed that Erin should have returned. He made himself lunch and waited around, just in case she decided to come over.
Minutes passed.
He knocked on her door again. Nothing. Fuming, he returned to his apartment, then paused. It wasn’t exactly protocol, but he had her cell phone number from the contact sheet at work. After a quick hassle dealing with Finley, a wacky ex-Navy guy obsessed with magic, he managed to secure Erin’s number.
The question then became, did he have the stones to use it?
Chapter Six
Erin knew she’d done the right thing accepting Tilly’s offer to show her around town, even if it had come from Tilly’s oddball nephew, Rupert. Sixty years young, Rupert had a perpetual spark in his big brown eyes and a devilish grin. He had a lewd sense of humor that had turned her face red more than once. And his aged Oldsmobile could only be called a monstrosity, but she did feel safe in it. The man drove slower than a sloth.
