He crossed his arms. “How’d that work out for you?”
Her brows pinched together. “You and my sister. No one likes a know-it-all.”
He dropped his arms. “A know— I’m merely pointing out that had you waited, you’d be in the house at the same time without any damage to either of our dignities. Or, if you had called, I could have come home earlier and let you in.”
“I didn’t have your number.” Enough chit-chat. She was tired and wanted to blow up her air mattress so she could go to sleep. Walking around his hulking body that filled out his uniform a little too well, she beelined for the front of the house.
“Your sister had it,” he said from behind her.
“No. João had it.”
“Your brother?”
She stomped passed the suitcases and boxes. “Yes.”
“Why couldn’t you have called your brother?”
“I’m not talking to him at the moment.”
“Why aren’t you talking to him?
Pausing with the key in her hand, she said, “I don’t remember. I’m sure I have a reason.” Lying to a police officer didn’t feel all that great, but she didn’t want to get into the screwed-up relationship between her and João.
“A good enough reason to get stuck in a window instead of calling him to get my number?”
Spinning around, she was confronted by his amused face. She fumed. He was worse than her sister. He was just like her brother. Stupid condescendingmachismo. He was probably married to a stick-figure supermodel and had beautiful children who modeled for Pottery Barn Kids.
“Look. Thanks for your help. It was suitably awkward. Have a nice night.”
Turning the door handle, she spun and smacked her face on the still closed door.
He cleared his throat behind her. “Deadbolt.”
“Yup.” Lacking all grace and coordination, it took three tries to finally get the door open. She stormed through and slammed it behind her. Leaning back against it, she closed her eyes.
“You need any help with these boxes?” His voice carried through the door.
“I’ll get them after I pee!” She scrunched up her face.Oh my god!
What was wrong with her? She was a thirty-two-year-old divorced woman getting ready to open her own successful-if-she-died-trying business.
Sleep deprivation. That had to be the reason for all the babbling and awkwardness. That and he was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on and she hadn’t missed the fact that his eyes had strayed down her top or that his warm breath had raised goosebumps on the sensitive skin of her breasts.
“Suit yourself.”
She banged the back of her head against the door. “Baby Jesus hates me.”
