Cake. Lauren Dane

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СКАЧАТЬ on his doorstep.

      As she headed back to the elevator she heard his voice, raised, arguing in Russian with someone. His door opened and he stormed into the hall. His face…she froze at the anger on his features. But then it was chased away as he recognized her.

      “Wren!”

      Standing, her hand on the doorknob of the stairwell, she was able to tear her gaze from his face to find him, barefoot, in threadbare jeans and a snug T-shirt, his hair in a ponytail, eyes ablaze with emotion. The intensity of the entire package continued to freeze her in place.

      “Yeah?”

      He lifted a shoulder and she saw beneath the hard outer shell, into the vulnerability beneath. “Why are you running off? Why didn’t you let yourself in?”

      She blew out a breath. “I didn’t know if you were working or if you…had a visitor.”

      He snorted and jerked his head toward his door. “Come.”

      “I really should go.”

      He put a hand on his hip. “Why?”

      “I have a job. Other deliveries to make.”

      “Your hands are empty.”

      She sighed, annoyed. “Of course they are. I delivered your things.”

      “Do you really have another delivery to make right now? Or can you come in for a bit? I need a break and you’re good company.”

      She should have said she did. But instead, she narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like you already have company.”

      “Me? No. I’m alone.”

      She took a few steps closer. “I just heard you yelling.”

      He shrugged. “I do that. It was a phone call.” He turned, bending to pick his things up. “Stop hovering five feet away as if I’m going to gobble you up. Come in. I have baked goods. Is your bicycle all right? Do you need to go bring it up?”

      She’d left her bike in the lobby. It was locked in a rack. Everything was fine. He was her last delivery of the day. Not that he needed to know that.

      “It’s fine. It’s locked up downstairs.”

      “Why are you hesitating? Do you think I’m going to pounce on you?”

      She wished.

      “What sort of baked goods?”

      “Macarons.”

      “Well, you should have said.” She moved inside, closing the door in her wake. The place was a disordered mess. Not his usual.

      “My mother came over this morning with them. Had I known it would take so little to lure you inside, I would have ordered them straight from Paris.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Who were you yelling at?”

      Wren followed him into the kitchen.

      “I have coffee instead of tea. Would you prefer I make tea?”

      “You’re awful accommodating today.”

      “I’m accommodating every day.”

      She barked a laugh. “You’re imperious every day. Two days ago you took the envelope from me, snorted and closed the door.”

      “I did?”

      She simply raised a brow and waited.

      “I’m sorry. I get wrapped up in work.”

      “Apology accepted. Coffee is fine. I have work to do tonight anyway.”

      “Night deliveries?” He frowned. “Is that safe?”

      “No, I’m done working for the day. I have schoolwork to do. I’m meeting someone I’m doing a group project with. I have time to eat cookies, but I need to bike back home in a bit.”

      “I’ll give you a ride. It’s raining.”

      “It’s Seattle—it’s always raining.”

      “What is this project?”

      “It’s a short animated film. Shane, my partner, is doing all the edits so I’m going to his apartment to see the progress.”

      Gregori glowered a moment.

      “Why are you grumpy? Grumpier than usual, I mean.” She grabbed milk from his fridge for the coffee.

      “What makes you think I’m grumpy?”

      “I have eyes. Milk?”

      He nodded and she poured him a dollop before putting the carton away.

      “You’re frowning at me. Excessively.”

      “Did you bring your art to show me?”

      She sipped her coffee. “I might have some in my bag. If you, say, wanted to tell me why you’re grumpy.”

      “Oh, so it’s like that?”

      She laughed. “Yes, yes I think it is. Maybe I don’t want to show it to you when you’re testy. What if you hate it and then you frown at me over it? I could get a complex. And wouldn’t that be a shame?”

      He grinned, the dark cloud of his mood chased from his features. “I highly doubt you’re capable of complexes.”

      “Hmm. You should know a hell of a lot more about women, buster. You’re constantly drowning in them, so why are you acting like you’ve never seen one?” She winked. “I’m not superhuman. Of course I’m capable of complexes. Back to you and your issues, please.”

      “It’s complicated personal business.”

      “Personal.” She rolled her r like he did. “Your ex-wife.”

      One of his brows rose. “Well, aren’t you industrious?”

      “I’m totally industrious. It’s a gift. However, I know she’s in town because she called to yell at Kelsey when I was there earlier.”

      “She yelled at Kelsey? About what?”

      “Oh, no thank you. I’ve already told you more than I should have. Kelsey is a badass. She can handle your ex-wife.”

      “She’s difficult. At one point I suppose I found it exciting. Now it’s just exhausting.”

      “Stop getting back with her then.”

      “Are you giving me relationship advice, little bird?”

      Little bird? She fought a blush.

      “Sure, why not?”

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