“Uh… no. I—”Probably wasn’t supposed to tell her that.“I was kidding.”
“Oh. Therearen’tmore?” Her entire countenance changes, from excited anticipation to disappointment. “Bummer.”
“I mean, I don’t know.” I finish in the shower and cut the water, then I simply hold my hand out and wait for Aubree to pass me a towel. It’s like we’re at work, but instead of handing me a knife, she passes a length of absorbent fabric. “Ithinkthere are more, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve only ever met Archer and Tim.”
“And Tim’s not interested.”
While I wrap the towel around my body, cinch it in at my breasts, and step out of the shower, Aubree meanders back into my room. “Totally random question, but where do you think I could acquire a dozen pigeons with full bowels?”
Amused, I move to the mirror fastened to my wall. It’s foggy with steam, and when I slide my hand across to clear the glass, I catch a glimpse of what was a hole in the ceiling on the day I moved in.
I got off a plane and landed in a snowstorm, and when I arrived at my apartment, the sweet, old Steve informed me that my bathroom ceiling had essentially caved in, and my apartment would be locked down until a contractor could come in to patch it up.
That was the first night I met Archer Malone.
Coincidentally, it was the first night I spent with Archer Malone.
“I suggest youdon’tgo searching for wildlife to fill the bar with, unless you want to face the wrath of an angry Malone. Also, can you dry my hair?” I snag my hairdryer and plug it into the wall, then smile when, glancing to my left, I see Aubree returning with a kitchen chair.
“Sit.” She sets the chair on the floor with aclang, then grabs my shoulders and shoves me down. “If I can’t date and do dirty things with a Malone, then I suppose I’ll do your hair and live vicariously through you. Can I try your clothes on while you’re gone?”
“Sure. If that’s what will make you feel better.”
ARCHER
The concrete staircase inside Minka’s apartment complex is freezing. Each unit has its own heating system, and at least the building itself shields residents from the bitter wind. But on the stairs, well… a man can be excused if his balls slide up into his gut.
Still, I can’t wipe the grin from my face as I skip every second step and hurry toward Minka’s door.
I’m going on a date, and hell, that shit feels weird to say. I’ve neverdatedbefore. I’ve fucked. I’ve danced at the bar. I’ve picked up a willing participant and spent a few hours talking her away from the pool table and toward another horizontal surface instead. But I’ve never loved. I’ve never been vulnerable the way I am with Minka.
And I’ve never skipped up four flights of stairs like a little kid eager to get to his destination.
Minka Mayet is a sugary dessert, and I’m a glutton just waiting to make the best kind of mess.
Slowing when I reach the fourth floor, and stopping in front of her door, I knock right at six o’clock. Though I could let myself in, even without keys, I school my expression and wait for her to come to me.
I leave my right hand free. My keys in my pockets. My phone on silent and tucked away. My left hand is wrapped around the stems of a colorful bunch of flowers that came from somewhere much, much warmer than Copeland, and someplace barely hidden in my psyche, I hope against all hope that Minka likes them.
I’ve never bought a woman flowers before.
“Hang on a sec!” Aubree Emeri’s playful voice coming from inside gives me momentary pause, but it passes, since I’ve come to realize that, where one doctor goes, the other follows.
They’re colleagues, boss and employee. But they’re friends too. And though I doubt Minka everwanteda sister, it appears she got one anyway, with wild hair and a loud personality, so she chooses to embrace the cards she’s been dealt.
Voices whisper back and forth inside the apartment. Sneakers shuffle and squeak on tile. Heels click. Maybe I’m a police detective now, a good one at that, but hell, even before training in the academy, I bet I could’ve deduced those heels are for me.
“I’m coming.” Minka’s matter-of-fact tone comes next, followed by the sound of those heels on the kitchen floor.
I stand taller in place, clutching the flowers and hoping I don’t die from the speed at which my heart thunders.
Locks snick on the other side of Minka’s door, a chain rattles, and a deadbolt slides to freedom, then the wood opens—a small, creaking inch, taunting me to shove it the rest of the way.
Mercifully, Minka pulls the door open a second later, and on the other side of the threshold, she stands in black.
Her dress goes all the way to her throat, circling her neck firmly enough to make my cock swell in my jeans. Her arms remain bare, and tiny biceps stand out under the harsh lighting of the kitchen. The inside of her left elbow sports a skin-toned Band-Aid, since last night’s infusion of Factor VIII refused to stop bleeding.
A reminder of her fragility, but also, her strength.