“I know you!” Mya laughed so hard she started to cough.
Phil ran over to her and patted her back. “Take it easy, will you? Corey’s not going to murder me for letting his pregnant wife die on my watch.”
She returned to the mirror to touch up her hair and makeup. A few minutes later, the doorbell chimed, and her stomach did a double somersault.
“Ooh, I’ll get it,” Mya said, mimicking a crab as she made a valiant effort to climb off the bed.
Phil stopped her. “He’ll think no one’s home if he has to wait for you to get to the door.” She was embarrassed at the way she nearly raced to the front door, then colossally disappointed when she opened it to find Corey standing on the other side.
“Wow.” His eyes ballooned as he looked her up and down. “Who knewthatwas hiding under those coveralls?”
Phil gave him a playful slap on the arm. Whether it was payback for his gibe, or because he wasn’t Jamal, she hadn’t decided yet. The jitters tingling along her skin in anticipation of his arrival were completely ridiculous. She’d just seen the man a few hours ago.
“Where’s my wife?” Corey asked. “She eat all your food yet?”
“I’ve still got a few grapes and some yogurt left,” Phil answered, gesturing for Corey to follow her to the bedroom.
“Hey, you,” Mya greeted him, patting the bed next to her.
Corey stopped just outside the door and shook his head. “I’m not coming in there. Too much estrogen.”
“Coward,” Mya and Phil said at the same time.
The doorbell rang again, and Phil literally jumped. So did her heart. Then it started racing triple time.
“Oh, oh, oh! Phil’s date is here!” Mya said, clapping her hands like a five-year-old.
“Which means we should probably go out the back door,” Corey said.
Thank you,Phil mouthed over Mya’s head as her friend waddled out of the bedroom, complaining about not being there for the big reveal.
Phil took a moment to collect herself before making her way to the foyer. She waited until she’d heard the back kitchen door close behind Corey and Mya before opening the front door.
Those darn tingles instantly sprang along her skin at the sight of Jamal. He wore a lightweight sweater and tan slacks, and he looked good enough to eat.
His eyes widened. “Damn.” He blew out on a heavy breath.
“Was that a good damn or a bad one?” Phil asked.
“Definitely a good one,” he said. “You look amazing, Phylicia.”
“I think it’s because you’re used to seeing me with sawdust in my hair.” She fingered one of the loose curls that framed her face, and in a teasing voice said, “I washed it for you. You should feel really special.”
“I do,” he said with a sexy smile.
She smiled back. She couldn’t help it.
After a moment that lasted way too long, yet not nearly long enough, Phil shook her head. “I’m sorry. Come on in while I grab my purse.”
He followed her, his hands in his pockets. His eyes roamed around the open living room/dining room/kitchen area. “Nice house,” he said. “Though, to be honest, I can’t picture you living here.”
“Why’s that?” Phil asked over her shoulder.
“You restore historic homes for a living. I’m surprised you can be comfortable in something this modern.”
Phil shrugged. “I doubt I’ll live here forever, but for now, it’s home.”
Jamal stopped short. “You were planning to move back into the Victorian, weren’t you?”
