“You have ten minutes, sweetie, then it’s bedtime,” Meghan called out.
Isla nodded, still twirling her hair.
After putting Isla to bed and reading her a chapter from her favorite Junie B. Jones book, Meghan tidied up the kitchen and sat down at the table with a pad of paper and her reading glasses, curling her legs beneath her. While she was at the ice cream shop today she’d had an idea for a new flavor, and she wanted to write it down before she forgot. A vegan orange blossom and cardamom pod ice, made from a mixture of coconut and almond milk. It would be delicate, but creamy, and she’d already noticed how many of her customers preferred her vegan options. She needed to give them something new to entice them to return.
It was only when the music started up that she realized her new neighbor must be home. A loud, rapid base echoed through the adjoining wall, making the pictures she’d hung there rattle.
Well, at least she knew he was home, even if he was noisy. She grabbed the gift bag of cookies and checked on Isla, who was fast asleep, her lips soft and chest rising lightly. Softly closing Isla’s door, she slipped her feet into an old pair of sandals and put the door on the latch, padding across the communal hallway to apartment 10A.
The music wasn’t so loud out here. It was only when she was a few inches away from the door that she could hear the thumping notes, along with rhythmic thuds that made her wonder what he was doing in there.
And then her cheeks started flaming because what if he wasn’t alone?
Surely he couldn’t be doing that. It was only eight-thirty. She sounded like her mom. Just because she wasn’t getting any, didn’t mean other people only had sex between ten p.m. and midnight.
Her first knock elicited no response. Mostly because she’d barely rapped her knuckles against the wood. Shaking her head at herself she knocked again. Louder. More confident. She was bringing him cookies, he had to be happy to see her.
“Pizza?” a deep voice called out. “Leave it on the floor. I’ll pick it up in a minute. I’ve added a tip to the app.”
He thought she was the pizza guy? And also, so much for worrying about leaving her cookies on the floor for him.
“I’m not the pizza guy.”
“What?” He sounded irritated.
“I?
??m not the pizza guy,” she shouted this time.
The door wrenched open so fast it made her jump.
And then her mouth dropped open so far that she was almost certain she could touch the floor with her chin. Because damn! The hot doc was scorching.
And he was also naked from the waist up.
It was almost impossible to drag her eyes away from the glorious body in front of her. He had the kind of physique you only saw on a huge movie screen. Wide, wide shoulders, a chest so defined she could pitch a tent on his pectorals and have the best view of Angel Sands. His stomach was perfect – ridged and dipped in all the right places, a thin sheen of sweat making his tan skin shine in the hallway light.
And dear god, she was staring.
Swallowing down her embarrassment, she brought her gaze up until her eyes finally met his. His brows were pulled together, his lips tight, but dammit if the face wasn’t as beautiful as the body.
“Um, hi.” Oh perfect opening, Meghan. You don’t look like an imbecile at all.
He blinked, and lifted the edge of the towel that was hooked around his neck, wiping his dark, stubbled chin. “Hi?”
“I’m Meghan.” Her eyes were wide with the effort to remember how to form words. This doc wasn’t hot, he was illegal. “From next door.”
His brows dipped further. “Next door?” He looked over her shoulder at Gloria’s apartment.
“From 10B. We moved in this week. I brought you cookies to say hi.” She held the gift bag up, but he was still staring at her as though she was some kind of alien.
“For me?”
She forced a smile onto her face. “Yes. I run the ice cream parlor on the boardwalk. Angel Ices. I just wanted to introduce myself and give you a little welcome gift.”
“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to receive gifts for moving in?”
Meghan shrugged. “They’re just from my shop.”