‘You had me at brownie,’ he said, and the corners of her mouth twitched like she actually might smile at him for the first time since he arrived.
They cut through a door in the fence. It was cute, thinking of a grown woman ducking into her grandfather’s backyard, taking a shortcut. While he didn’t know the Vogels, the fact they ran an agency together and lived next door to each other implied they were close, and he respected that. He wished he’d had grandparents who cared about him and his mother so they wouldn’t have ended up homeless.
She unlocked the back door and he followed her into a small mudroom that led to the kitchen. From the look of the place from the outside, with its old-style wrap-around veranda, he’d expected the interior to be a touch antiquated too, but the kitchen—with its stone-topped island bench, gleaming white cabinets, induction stovetop and trendy crimson splashback—could’ve belonged in an upmarket inner-city apartment.
‘Nice place.’
‘Let me guess. You expected a wood-burning stove and a dresser of antique crockery.’ She filled an electric kettle and flicked it on as he eyed the fancy espresso machine next to the microwave. She followed his gaze and smirked. ‘Only friends get the good coffee. So it’s instant for you.’
He laughed, liking this prickly woman more by the minute. ‘Well then, guess I’ll have to impress you enough to get the good stuff next time.’
‘There’ll be no next time,’ she said, but there was no bite in her words.
‘Now that’s not very neighbourly.’ He mock frowned. ‘And here I was thinking country folk were hospitable.’
‘We are. Just not for the likes of you.’
‘There you go again, judging me when you don’t know me.’ He tsked-tsked. ‘Shame, because if you’d made me a real coffee, I might’ve revealed all my deepest, darkest secrets.’
This time the corners of her mouth went beyond twitching; they actually curved into a smile and it transformed her from pretty to breathtaking. Noticing her beauty made him angsty. He never mixed business with pleasure and while technically he’d be dealing with her grandfather to get this deal done, he didn’t want to muddy the waters with any potential complications. Like the one currently staring at him with big brown eyes he could drown in given half a chance.
Thankfully, the kettle whistled and as she busied herself making two coffees, he tried to remember the last time he’d had this much fun sparring with a woman. He deliberately dated women not associated with his career, because he never wanted to be used as a leg-up in the industry. And while that rule served him well professionally, it often meant he had little in common with his dates beyond a physical attraction. With Karlana, he had a feeling he was going to enjoy matching wits with her way too much.
‘Milk and sugar?’ She placed two mugs on the island bench and indicated he take a seat on a stool.
‘No thanks, black is fine.’
She sat next to him and he tried not to stare at the way her skirt rode up her thigh a little. He took a sip of coffee to distract himself and struggled to hide a grimace. He heard a muffled chuckle and glanced at her to find her hiding a grin behind her mug.
‘Is the coffee okay?’
‘It’s fine,’ he said, with an exaggerated wince, and she laughed, making him feel oddly lightheaded for a moment. ‘You haven’t touched yours, I see.’
‘Too hot for me.’ When he raised an eyebrow, implying she was referring to more than the coffee, she rushed on. ‘I prefer mine cooler. During the summer months we’re flat out at the agency and it’s always cold by the time I take a sip between clients.’
Hearing how busy they were during summer gave him hope he could ensure the agency was hectic year-round. ‘I’ll admit I’m a coffee snob. I have several favourite baristas around Melbourne.’
‘If you’re looking for a good coffee here, my friend Nev owns the Vegan Vault and she makes the best in town.’
‘Thanks for the tip.’ He raised his mug in a cheer. ‘I’ll need it, considering my neighbour’s so inhospitable she won’t make me a decent coffee.’
‘When you earn my hospitality, you may be lucky enough to get one of my signature cappuccinos.’
He liked this teasing side of her. Much better than the disapproving glare earlier when she saw him in the agency and looked like she wanted to stab him with the nearest letter opener. ‘What do I need to do to earn it?’
She paused for a moment before saying, ‘Telling me a bit about why you were homeless is a start.’
‘I don’t usually open up about my personal life but for you I’ll make an exception.’
‘Why?’ Her head cocked to one side, as if she couldn’t figure him out.
‘Because contrary to what you might think, I’m not the enemy. And I want you to understand I’m here to make a genuine offer, and if humanising me rather than seeing me as some hotshot know-it-all helps, I’m all for it.’
She nodded with grudging respect, so he continued. ‘I won’t bore you with the hows and whys of ending up homeless, but it happened in my teens. My mum and I lived out of her car for a while, until a social worker helped us get emergency accommodation. After living in her car that place was like a palace and I never forgot it. That’s why I appreciate your grandfather offering me the use of his granny flat, because while I’d sleep anywhere if I had to, I appreciate having a roof over my head even more since that stint in Mum’s car.’
‘You’re right.’
Her answer confused him. ‘About what?’