Daring In The City

She blinked. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “Could I borrow a roll of toilet paper?”

“Are you kidding?”

She waved in the direction of the bathroom. “He left me four sheets. Generous, isn’t he? Bastard.”

“That’s got to be a record low.” It occurred to him that she could’ve easily taken a roll from the downstairs bathroom. Instead she’d asked. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get it for you.”

She tried to give him a smile, but it didn’t stick.

On his way down the stairs he played devil’s advocate. It was quite possible the toilet paper situation had tipped the scales. Hell, two days was generous, considering he wanted to get a jump on the—

Ah, shit.

He’d almost forgotten about his date. With the very gorgeous and—he was quite sure of it—willing Jillian whom he’d run into at a gallery retrospective. Their date was in seven days. So yeah, April putting him behind schedule was inconvenient. Her being there wouldn’t stop him from working on the living room area, but he needed to have access to the upstairs bedroom. Two less days to get it in shape meant he’d have to hustle.

After finding a roll of toilet paper in the old vanity cabinet in the bathroom he was going to tear out, he went back to the staircase.

April appeared above him, dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink T-shirt. She was still hot.

He tossed the roll up, and she caught it handily. “Look, I’ve got a pizza coming any second. And some beer in the fridge. You’re welcome to have some.”

Even from this distance he could see she was tempted, but she hesitated. He supposed that was a good sign. Smart. She didn’t know him, either.

When she didn’t respond, he shrugged. “Suit yourself. But it’s a large pepperoni, and the beer is cold.”

He turned, leaving her to figure it out. It made no difference to him if she came downstairs. Then it occurred to him that he probably shouldn’t go back to his folks’ house tonight and leave her here on her own. But then where would he sleep?

Oh, for God’s sake, the woman was already too much trouble.

4 (#uf88e9c2a-e165-541d-955f-29ee81c1dc2d)

EVEN AFTER LUCA had disappeared, April just stood there, not sure she’d be able to move. The thought of going downstairs was more than she could bear. Not the thought of eating with Luca. Just making her way down there.

Instead, she returned to the Wes Abandonment Suite and stared at a spot on the floor. A pain in her shoulder knocked her out of her trance, which was a pity. For a while there, she’d had no thoughts, at least none she could remember. But somewhere in that void, she’d made a decision that surprised her.

She emptied more of her duffel bag until she got to her makeup and facial cleanser. She’d packed a couple of washcloths, mostly because she didn’t trust Wes to pick up anything but the cheapest crap.

If only she’d had the foresight to realize that was the least of her concerns.

She really had to let it go, for now at least. She took her things to the bathroom, which was so outdated it looked like something out of a 1950s movie. The toilet was in okay shape, just hard-water stained, as was the area around the sink’s drain. The shower looked reasonably clean and there was enough space on the boxy vanity-sink combo for her toiletries. Now all she needed was water.

Wetting her cloth, she put it over her face, concentrating on her puffy, red eyes. The end result, after applying the cool cloth four times, was that she looked as if she had a wicked cold. At least she didn’t appear to be on death’s door, so that was an improvement.

After brushing her hair, she dabbed a little blush on her cheeks then went to face her next big hurdle.

Luca was standing in the kitchen, a large pizza box balanced on an ugly Formica countertop. He looked up, immediately meeting her gaze, although she hadn’t made a sound. When she reached him, he got a beer out of the fridge.

After uncapping the bottle he handed it to her along with a paper towel.

“Thanks.” April managed a smile. Completely drained of energy, she felt so weird she couldn’t describe it. Nothing seemed real. Not even the long bus ride yesterday—or was that today?

God. Everything was a surreal blur.

“Sorry. No plates.”

“That’s fine,” she said and decided looking into his intense dark eyes was a bad idea. She turned to the shiny stainless-steel refrigerator that didn’t belong. At all. “Is that real?”

He followed her gaze, just stared for a moment, before looking at her. Even with a confused expression, he was still smoking hot. “Are we talking about the fridge?”

“Yeah, um... No.” Okay. Proof she should’ve stayed upstairs. “No, we aren’t,” she said, clearing her throat. “It just looks—” She took a big bite of her pizza to keep her mouth busy. Exhaustion combined with a really attractive guy was not a good mix. Had he been this gorgeous upstairs?

Luca was tall, at least a foot taller than she was, his hair dark brown and silky. He wore it on the long side, pushed back. With his Mediterranean skin tone and last name, she guessed his family was from an Italian coastal town. Naples, maybe? His eyes were dark, his brows full, his jaw strong...but the individual parts weren’t as impressive as the whole.

Shit, she was still staring at him.

“You mean the fridge looks too fancy for the Formica?” he asked.

“Yes?”

A faint smile tugged at his mouth.

She took a sip of beer. “So, this place is huge. I thought every apartment in New York was closet-sized.”

“A lot of them are. I think the place looks bigger since I took down two walls. It’s going to be a nice open space when it’s all finished.”

“Wow. A two-story apartment. Is that common here?”

“No. I lucked out. I’ll be turning half of the upstairs into a screened-in porch. The rest will be my master suite. The porch side is blocked off, so don’t go wandering around. It’s not safe.”

“I won’t. I’ll just stick to my little ol’ room. I should probably get a cooler or something, though,” she said, glancing around at the ladders and stacked drywall. “What did Jerkface use? Do you know?”

“Not my brand-new refrigerator.”

“I didn’t think so.” She studied the high-end appliance some more. “That sucker is big. You can’t have much in there.”

“What are you getting at?” Luca folded his arms across his chest.

A very nice chest to go with his broad shoulders. And muscular forearms. She met his gaze. “Oh, nothing. Just making an observation.”

“Right.”

“Obviously this is the kitchen,” she said, ignoring his skeptical tone. “What are you going to do with the rest of this area?”

“Dining room, living room.” He nodded at the wide space between them and the windows then gestured to the right, past the staircase. “Powder room and an office.”

“Holy cow. It’s going to be gorgeous. You’re doing all the work yourself?”

“No. I’ll have help, but I’ll be doing most of it. My family owns a construction company, so it’s pretty much what I do.”