“I’m not dating Wyatt.” The statement came out more emphatically than I’d intended.
“Oh, okay.” His expression relaxed. “My mistake. That’s probably for the best, though.”
“Why do you say that?” For a panicked moment, I wondered if Bodie knew of some evidence linking Wyatt to Freddie’s murder.
He gestured toward one of the barstools by the kitchen’s peninsula. I shimmied my way onto it while he leaned his forearms on the counter, like he’d done at Yolanda and Minnie’s apartment earlier. The stance drew my attention to his tanned, muscular arms, distracting me from my worried thoughts.
“You know,” he said, “he probably has a fancy car, a penthouse suite, a country club membership. Those guys are always players.”
No evidence of murderous traits then. That came as a relief, though skepticism quickly followed.
Bodie caught sight of my raised eyebrow. “Okay, I know what you’re thinking. I’m a thirty-year-old bartender. Probably a player too, right?”
He’d guessed correctly. I didn’t have to tell him that.
“There’s more to me than meets the eye.”
“Care to share?” I asked, intrigued.
He grinned, though I thought I detected a shadow of sadness in his eyes. “One day.”
I shoved aside my disappointment. “I guess the cocktail party is over?”
He shrugged as he opened the fridge. “There were still people there, but the bubbly ran out, so my work was done.” He smiled again, this time without any sorrow. “And Minnie slipped me a twenty-dollar tip on my way out.” He looked in the fridge. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?”
“I’m sure, but thank you.” I slipped off the stool. “And I won’t impose on you any longer. You weren’t exactly expecting me to drop in.”
He shut the fridge, turning his full attention to me. “Maybe not, but I can’t say I’m unhappy about it.”
Butterflies stirred in my stomach. “No?”
“As the only two adult residents of this building under the age of fifty, we should hang out more.”
“That would be good. Except I don’t have a whole lot of free time. Definitely not free nights. Well, rarely, anyway.”
“Because of Livy?”
I nodded. “Unless she’s with my parents, I can’t really have a night out. Mrs. Nagy loves to babysit, but I don’t like to keep her up late at night, and now that…”
“I know.” Bodie sank down onto the couch. “I hate what she and her husband are going through. I wish I hadn’t told the cops about the croquet mallet incident.”
I hesitated but then sat down beside him. “You just told the truth. The police would have found out about it eventually anyway. Especially if that security camera in the lobby works.”
“Still…I wish I hadn’t been the one to tell the cops, you know?”
I nodded. “I can understand that.” I stood up again. “I should really get going. I didn’t mean to interrupt your day.”
Bodie got to his feet and touched a hand to my arm. “Hey, feel free to interrupt my day anytime.”
I smiled at him, the sincerity of his words warming my heart and my cheeks.
His blue eyes held mine captive, and the air between us practically crackled with intensifying electricity. My breath hitched.
A glint of light caught my eye. I looked away from Bodie, and the electric energy vibrating in the room faded.
Something sparkly lay beneath a leather recliner, one corner peeking out far enough to catch the light streaming in through the window. I picked it up and saw that it was a dangly earring, about three inches long and encrusted with diamonds and emeralds. Real or fake, I didn’t know, but it was pretty. And it most likely didn’t belong to Bodie. He’d never actually denied being a player, and now I wondered how many women he had traipsing through his apartment each month.
“Looks like somebody lost this,” I said, handing the earring toBodie while avoiding his eyes, embarrassed that I’d felt flattered by his apparent interest in me moments earlier.
