Nadzieja got the same gleam in her eye and promptly slipped on the puddle, going down, down, down.
At least Nadzieja had said there was a puddle. Sam had opened a report and done an entire investigation and it didn’t seem like the puddle existed for anyone but Nadzieja.
Chef Mike still took on that guilt and ensured Nadzieja got whatever she wanted from there on out. To that very day, every meal in the entire community came with optional tots.
Funny thing about that, once Nadzieja got her dog and tots for dinner that night, her hip returned to prime condition, and she had no issues at all.
Though the day Sam told her she’d have to stop dialing the non-emergency police line? Nadzieja got the same gleam in her eye. She’d been calling it often to request the most attractive officers stop in for a welfare check. Not her welfare—theirs. It was a whole thing.
The first time they found it funny. By the fifth time? They weren’t amused.
Sam could’ve sworn Nadzieja had a mat with the grippy bottoms in her room. Sam ensured all the residents had one. But it’d disappeared and Nadzieja went down again.
The officers who arrived with the EMTs? Not bad looking. And Nadzieja had a remarkably speedy recovery from that one, too. Minutes, really. Seconds, even.
So, in this moment, Sam knew what was coming.
This was a blip in time where she had a choice to make—force the issue and call the game, or just play another round so she didn’t have to deal with all the blah blah and the reports that came with it.
She went with option B.
“One more game,” she said with a perky smile, holding up her index finger.
Nadzieja sank right back down to the chair, wry grin in place, and spun the wheel like the woman had just won the Showcase Showdown onThe Price Is Right.
The game ticked along and Sam was nearly ready to call the ending—the real ending—when the door to the room squeaked open. She needed to WD-40 that before she left for the night.
Nadzieja let out asqueeand dropped the spinning arrow board.
Sam was in a modified version of a downward dog, so she had to peer through her legs to the doorway. Of note, she did not topple over at the sight of the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her freaking life standing there in the doorway. Thing was, there wasn’t truly anything super special about his appearance. Hot guy? For sure. But he looked like he stepped out of a catalogue—unreal and probably fake. Gorgeous men like him were of the processed variety and did not come from natural sources.
His cropped blond hair stood messy-spiked on the top, but cut close on the sides. The black tee he wore strung tight across his chest. The guy wasn’t ripped, but he was definitely athletic. And the light denim jeans taut against his thighs? Very nice choice. Those jeans led down to nothing-special sneakers, and still her heart thumped louder in her ears.
Balanced in his arms he held several large, purple candy boxes.
This was like her favorite wet dream come to life because…charisma. The guy was doused with buckets of hot guy sauce that he probably tossed all over wherever he went.
Seriously, the way her blood whooshed to her brain and her face flushed was entirely unnecessary. Downward dog, notwithstanding.
His eyes caught hers and her bum was right up there in the air, so she should’ve stood up, straightened her Purple Peony polo shirt, turned and said, “Hello.” Like the professional she promised herself she was on the regular.
Did she stand up? Oh no. Instead, she held his gaze with hers and smiled at him through her legs. As one does when faced with a hot dude who makes one’s cheeks flush.
Good thing that Nadzieja wasn’t calling a color-appendage combination because all Sam could focus on was this guy. If he had a vibe, it would shout, “God, yes.”
He lifted his eyebrows at her and sort of grinned. Even upside down, the symmetrical perfection of his lips was too much. Too, too much. Somebody call American Eagle because she had a brand-new model ready and waiting for their summer photo spread.
“Hey ladies,” he said with a rumble of a voice that made Sam seriously consider what it would be like to play strip-Twister and eat chocolates with him.
Gah, no. Stop it.
Besides, she didn’t meanhim.She meant someonelikehim.
She dated sometimes—not too much. Best not to get too close to anyone, she’d found out. Keeping a comfortable distance was necessary for, well, comfort.
“It’s Tanner,” Nadzieja shouted, holding her hands together in front of her chin.
Uh-huh, that made sense that this guy would have a hot guy name to go along with his “God, yes” vibe.
