“Thanks for the fireworks,” she said softly as she appeared on the top step. Her hair fell in loose waves, trailing down her shoulders and back like ribbons of golden-amber silk. Her eyes glistened. Her generous mouth shone, and her long, tanned legs were silky smooth as she walked toward her apartment door. Taco followed happily, tail wagging a mile a minute and tongue lolling to the side.
“They were good this year.”
Better than I remembered.
She paused. Licked her lips. Then met his gaze.
Bingo.His blood ran hot, and he all but pounded his fists against his chest like an animal.
“It’s still early if you wanted to come in for a drink?” She smiled, and damn if two adorable dimples didn’t appear. “I feel we should have a chat.” She licked that bottom lip again. “Or something.”
Gus nodded. “Sounds good. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be over.”
She put the key in her door. “I’ll leave it unlocked.”
Gus’s apartment was a far cry from the ultra-modern condo he owned in DC. It was small with dated furniture and threadbare rugs scattered across the wood floors. The almond-colored appliances in the kitchenette and the one piece of artwork in the place — a painting that was too large for the wall and featured a matador and a bull — were throwbacks to the seventies.
And yet he felt comfortable here. He saw the potential and knew if he spent time upgrading the apartment it could be an amazing unit. He had two large windows in the living area as well as another one in his bedroom.
Gus headed for his room and changed his T-shirt before grabbing his toothbrush for a quick clean. He checked his cell phone while brushing and frowned, noting three missed calls from his brother Harrison. There were no voicemails, and once he rinsed, Gus called his brother, wondering what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into.
Harry didn’t answer, so Gus left a message and told him he’d call back in the morning and grabbed a bottle of Chianti and two wine glasses. He turned to leave, then pivoted back to his bedroom, where he grabbed a condom from the table beside his bed. A guy couldn’t be too prepared, now, could he?
His mouth curved into a smile laced with anticipation as he crossed the hall and gave one knock before opening Faith’s door. Taco greeted him, ears alert and forward, tail wagging. He gave a soft bark and sniffed Gus’s shoes.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she said, her voice carrying from the small bedroom.
“Sounds good.” He moved past the dog and rummaged through the drawers in Faith’s kitchen. After a bit of looking Gus found a corkscrew. It was old, and he had to work to get it in place, but he was able to uncork the wine. He left the bottle to breathe on the counter and wandered back to the living room area.
This unit was more of an upgrade over his. The furniture wasn’t quite as old, and the kitchen appliances were at least a decade newer than his. Fresh paint would do wonders for the place, but the plants Faith had bought went a long way in, giving an overall sense of freshness. He noted a small vase on the kitchen table filled with dark purple tulips.
They were his mother’s favorite.
“Sorry, I just wanted to change out of my work clothes.”
Faith had pulled on an oversized black T-shirt withGagain large white block letters. She wore equally large black boxersthat, while pulled in tight at the waist, hung halfway down her thighs.
The outfit screamed boyfriend, and even though he wondered about her past, Gus let it go. He’d find out what he wanted to know . . . eventually.
“I brought wine.” He cracked a smile. “I hope you like red.”
“I do.” Her voice was soft and that beautiful mouth of hers curved into a smile. “I’ll pour us each a glass.”
He accepted the wine and leaned against the sofa, watching her over the top of the rim as she moved about the room. She moved like a—
“You used to dance,” he observed, taking a sip.
Faith froze in her tracks and turned to him with a nod. “Yes. A long time ago.”
“Ballet?” Images of Sunday in pink tulle tugged at his mind. He wondered if his sister still danced.
“And jazz.” Faith sat on the lone chair a few feet from him and tucked in her toes, before glancing his way. “You played football.”
He nodded. “High school.”
“Baseball too.”
He grinned and shook his head. “Nope. I was into hockey and played up until I had no time for it. School and a job took most of it away until I graduated and went into the Navy.”
