Forget Prince Charming. Natalie Stenzel

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СКАЧАТЬ She shoved her hair behind her ears.

      “My door? Oh, the doorbell doesn’t work. You should have knocked.”

      “I did.” She gritted the words out.

      “Hmm. Well, I did have the stereo cranked up.”

      “Whatever. Can I please just have my clipboard back?”

      Rick smiled down at her, his expression as innocent as a child’s. “So you’re going hunting?”

      Haley made a desperate grab for the clipboard but he casually held it just out of reach. Her panic congealed into embarrassed frustration. “You just had to read it, didn’t you. Brand new to the building, and you’re already pulling the nosy neighbor act.”

      “Hey, you’re the one who clobbered me with a clipboard. All I did was pick it up. Never mind that, though. Tell me about the hunt. Is it some twisted cultural supremacy thing? Down with geeks, dweebs and nerds?”

      Haley studied him momentarily. Thinking. Maybe he hadn’t read the whole thing. Maybe he’d just glanced at the title. Sighting an out, she attempted a breezy smile. “It was just a joke. Like those ‘you know you’re a redneck when’ kind that are everywhere now.”

      Rick’s smile hardened but he let her snag the clipboard out of his hands. “Looked like a pretty involved joke. Kind of a humorous how-to manual, I suppose? So, once you hunt up one of those suckers, what are you supposed to do with him? Reform him or just enjoy him as he is?”

      She hugged the clipboard to her chest, heart pounding with new unease. “Um. I’m not sure. A friend just, well, a friend of mine scribbled it down for me. We had customers and she didn’t want to offend anyone, so she just wrote it down for me to read later. And I will. With dinner probably.” Haley wished she could spontaneously combust. Now. If she would only learn when to shut up, maybe she could pull off a believable lie.

      “Oh, sure.” He nodded agreeably. “I always enjoy a good joke with my dinner. Hell, to hear a good joke, I’d be willing to buy you dinner.” An unholy gleam in his eyes, Rick leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb, folded his arms and grinned down at her. He was obviously aware of her silent squirming and enjoying it immensely. “So how about it? Dinner for a joke?”

      Haley glared at him. “You read the whole thing.”

      “Okay, I skimmed it. You caught me. That’s not to say I don’t have a million questions, though. You could tell me all about it over dinner. What do you say? My offer still stands.”

      Haley squeezed her eyes shut, but she could still picture his wicked grin. Naturally, the grin—what was she thinking? the whole package surrounding the grin—was so attractive she could just die. She was destined to forever be humiliated in front of sexy men. And be attracted to them anyway, masochistic idiot that she was.

      With the battle of the senses raging within her, Haley couldn’t help but wonder if it was a blessing or a curse that she’d sworn off hunks. Because, despite his provoking manner, Rick Samuels fairly defined the term. It was no wonder he had women lining up outside his door. Twelve short months ago—hell, twelve short hours ago—she’d have been tempted to do the same. The man was hot.

      He looked to be in his early thirties, with Brad Pitt’s good looks, only taller, with broader shoulders and more rugged features. And she was pretty sure the sun-kissed color of this guy’s hair was real. Thick and unruly, ending just about collar-level. She sighed. And those deep blue eyes and wicked lips set a girl to dreaming of laughter and hot sex. God help her. She opened her eyes slowly, trying to brace herself.

      He was still watching her, no doubt savoring the embarrassment behind her hesitation. “Well, Haley? Care to get to know your neighbor?”

      Oh, boy would I! “No, thank you. I have a lot to do tonight.”

      “Too bad.” His grin didn’t falter. “Some other time, maybe?” At her reluctant nod, he straightened and strode past her into the hallway toward her bike. “Just let me wheel this in for you and I’ll get out of your way so you can get started on your project.”

      In the interest of ending the humiliating encounter, Haley bit back a choice insult and turned to continue wrestling with her door. Naturally, the key turned smoothly this time. The door all but sprung open in her hands. She set her clipboard on a lamp table then stood back to let Rick push her bike into the living room.

      Sherlock’s frantic barking echoed from the back of the apartment. Haley sighed. It sounded like the dog had managed to shut himself in the closet again. She wondered how many shoes had been sacrificed today.

      “The boyfriend’s dog?” Rick’s eyes were trained on the doorless opening to her loft bedroom. She thought she could see suspicion and disapproval in his eyes.

      “My dog, now.”

      His eyes narrowed. “Yes, so you said. Some revenge.”

      Haley frowned. “Huh?”

      “Stealing a man’s best friend from him.”

      Haley’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t steal him. Peter abandoned the poor thing. Almost.”

      “Right.” His voice rang with doubt.

      She propped her fists on her hips. “I’m not lying. He passed the dog off to me. Weeks ago. He said he traveled too much to take care of it and the dog liked me better anyway.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “And I didn’t have the heart to take him to the humane society or find a stranger to take him in. So the puppy’s mine.” She glared at Rick. “Do you always jump to wild conclusions?”

      He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I hope not. Sorry.”

      Haley rolled her eyes. “Like I’d kidnap somebody’s dog.”

      Rick cleared his throat and glanced around the apartment before turning his sights back on the bike. His eyes flickered over the banana seat and woven basket decorated with plastic daisies. The bicycle only had one speed. It was similar, in fact, to the bike she’d ridden all over the neighborhood as a child. He swept a hand over the upright handlebars, fitting his fingers around the tasseled grips, then looked up to meet her eyes with a provoking grin. “Nice bike.”

      Haley sighed, used to the odd looks and comments she attracted with her metallic-blue 1976 Huffy. “It does the job and it’s made for a short person.” She paused a beat. “And I already killed two ten-speeds because I never remembered to shift gears properly. This was ten bucks at a garage sale and it’s perfect for the short trip to work. Saves on gas.”

      Casually, he tested the front tire, a slight frown wrinkling his brow. “You need new tires. These are almost bald. Why don’t you come by my shop this weekend and I’ll get you set up.” His offer was absently sincere and, from the look on his face, almost immediately regretted.

      “You own a bike shop?”

      “Mmm. The one around the corner from your toy shop.”

      She eyed his physique, which obviously carried not one extra pound of fat, and conceded that he was very likely a biking enthusiast. Peter had been, too. In between tennis matches, he’d participated in a triathlon last year, a fact he liked to work into conversations with new acquaintances. And complete strangers. СКАЧАТЬ