London smiled at him. “Yes, Bronte. I did volunteer. Don’t blame him.”
Then she pointed to the bathroom and left him to his conversation.
“Is the weather bad there, too?”
“Yeah. We finished up in the studio and came up to your apartment to wait it out.”
“Aw...Look at you being hospitable. Thank you for not treating her like trash.”
Yeah, trash was not the word that came to mind when he thought about London. “Is there something else you needed?”
“I just wanted to check in and make sure everything was okay. I feel really bad for sticking you with London. I know you hate babysitting.”
“It’s fine.”
“Do you think she’s done? Will she need more time?”
“We’ll know in a couple of days, but it looks good.”
“Damn.”
“What?”
“I was hoping she’d need more sessions. She pays well.”
He chuckled. “Drive safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He disconnected and tossed his phone on the table next to London’s notebook. He started flipping through it again. She was talented. He landed on a sketch of the tree topper.
That nagging feeling came back. While they were working on it, he was too concerned with helping her get it right that he didn’t pay much attention to how it looked. But now, looking at the sketches, one in black and white and then another in full color, he couldn’t help but feel like he should recognize it.
“Everything okay with Bronte?” London called from behind him.
“Yeah. She was calling to make sure I didn’t scare you off.”
“If that’s what you were going for, you were way off the mark.” She smiled and then pointed at the window. “It’s cleared up and the streets look okay, so I think I’m going to head out before there’s a second wave.”
“Oh. Okay.” He stood and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look. If I misread anything—”
“Absolutely not. I was totally on board with everything. We got a little carried away, but it was worth it.” She came closer and stroked his beard again. “I enjoyed it so much that I’d love to have an encore. Maybe on a day when we’re not in your sister’s apartment.”
He smiled. “The location should probably bother me more, but it doesn’t.”
She moved through the room gathering her things. She ripped a piece of paper from her pad and scribbled on it. “Here’s my number—address and phone. Give me a call if you decide you want to continue.”
He took the paper from her and tucked it in his pocket. After she shoved the pad in her bag and turned around, he pulled her close again. “I’ll definitely call.”
Lowering his mouth, he kissed her again. In the back of his mind, he thought about how soon would be too soon to call her. When they broke the kiss, her eyes were lust-filled and he knew he wouldn’t be waiting long to reach out.
“I’ll call you when your toppers are ready.”
“Or I could just swing by.” She held onto his belt loops and tugged until they collided again.
“Probably not a good idea. Bronte will skin me if she thinks I took advantage.”
“Good point. Plus, the studio isn’t conducive to getting naked.”
“Hmm-mmm.” Thoughts of getting her naked raced through his mind and he did what he could to quell them. Stepping back, he looked her up and down. “You don’t drive some little bitty car, do you? Plowed or not, it wouldn’t be safe to drive something like that out there.”