“Mainly the one,” he said, clearly oblivious to the fact that she didn’t know anything about any of them. “I’ve been working on a couple others, but no buyers.”
“So you freelance?”
Was it her imagination, or had he just turned a new shade of red? “Uh, yes,” he said. “But not from my parents’ basement or anything. I have my own apartment. Would you like to go back there and see my game collection?”
Seriously? He didn’t even want sex? Not that he had a chance. She wasn’t about that five minutes into meeting someone—especially someone for whom she felt neither attraction nor chemistry—but what guy wasn’t hoping for sex? Oh, that’s right. Matt. Matt, who had never once actually hit on her. Unless that moment before she’d left with Dave counted, and it didn’t, because he definitely hadn’t, but for some reason, it kind of did. Something had energized the air between them. She wanted to drag her fingers through those errant electrons, to scoop them up and trace lines down his skin, to see if the hair on his arms would stand or if she’d just imagined the whole thing. But the way he’d looked at her…either her zipper had been down, or she’d mentally toed a line that had done nothing but gather dust since Matt’s diapered butt had landed on the floor of her playroom.
Rather than dwell, she drained her water bottle and started counting knots in the pine paneling on the adjacent wall.
She didn’t know where Dave had gone, but Video Game Guy was on Planet Nope. And he was off on another tangent, having already lost her with whatever he was saying about graphic quality. She glanced back to wave down the waitress for another drink and saw Matt now leaning close, laughing uproariously with a woman who was definitely not Carla.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” Video Game Guy asked, turning to follow her gaze.
“The guy over there with his shirt half unbuttoned,” she said with faux enthusiasm. Actually it was just the collar, but seeing that he was no longer on the verge of choking to death didn’t do much for her mood. She couldn’t believe he’d brought a date there after voicing his none-too-complimentary opinion about Dave and dollar beer night. “He’s an old friend.”
“Who’s he with?” Gamer guy perked, no faux enthusiasm to be had.
At obvious interest in his tone, Lexi seized the opportunity. “I don’t know. Why don’t you go introduce yourself?”
“Really?” the guy asked, sounding more hopeful than he had all evening, which was just great. “You don’t mind?”
“Absolutely not.” It was nice of him to ask, like he thought they’d made a connection, but the truth was that nothing would give her greater pleasure than to see him snag the woman’s attention away from Matt. Having that happen once, with Carla deep in conversation with someone else, had been amazing, but twice? She’d need to have a plaque made to commemorate the occasion.
She watched as her new friend sauntered up between Matt and the pretty brunette, forcing back a smile as Matt immediately shot her a death glare. He stayed put for all of thirty seconds before launching off the stool and walking over to her. She most definitely did not notice her breath catching at the way his jeans sat on his hips or how his shirt betrayed the rock garden of muscle beneath the fabric, and she really didn’t entertain a single thought of how ungodly sexy he was. And none of that had anything to do with why she wasn’t seeing her best friend in that neon light.
Nope, he’d made himself the enemy, and she’d just cemented it.
“What. The. Hell?” Matt asked.
“Aw,” Lexi said, feigning apology. “She didn’t choose you?”
“Gotta give your boy credit,” Matt said. “He noticed she had a Call of Duty tatt. I guess they have a common interest. What’s that, two guys now in one night who have bailed on you?”
“You’re not doing much better. That woman ditched you for the video game nut, and Carla is…otherwise occupied?”
He turned the chair across from her around and sat, straddling it. “Nice attempt at diversion,” he argued, the smile toying at his lips far more charming than Lexi would have liked. “But facts are facts. He ditched you for her.”
She leaned back in the chair and sighed. “Okay, we’re both losers, but that guy wasn’t my date. What happened to yours?”
Matt shrugged. “She saw a friend of hers who did not have a roommate waiting at home.”
Lexi frowned, her desire to give him a hard time instantly deflating. “I’m sorry, Matt. If it’s going to be a problem—”
He shrugged, his gaze lingering. “The problem is hers. Where’s your new friend?”
He knew Dave’s name, so the question was clearly a jab. She hesitated, trying to decide if she was going to admit he was a cop. She opted to gloss over it, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “He’s either rescuing his sister,” she said, “or arresting one of the guys in the band.”
Yeah, no. “They don’t even have a ba—” Matt stopped and stared at her for a long moment before asking, very slowly, “He’s a cop?”
“Right,” she said brightly. “So probably not a serial killer. And by the way, it looks like Carla is getting pretty friendly with that guy over there, so maybe you should pay more attention to her?”
“She went to the restroom,” he said without looking. “I wasn’t going to follow her in there.”
“Okay, well she’s out now,” Lexi said, as Dave walked back in, looking apologetic and just a bit surprised to see Matt. Lexi took a chance. “Are you ready to ditch this place?” she asked Dave.
“Yeah, actually—”
“Great.” Lexi stood and patted her pockets to make sure her cell and debit card hadn’t fallen out. “I’ll see you later,” she told Matt. “Unless you want me to stay somewhere else?”
“I’ll see you tonight,” Matt said, and it sounded like an order, but it lacked punch. He toyed with a cardboard coaster on the table, flipping it back and forth. He often did that when he had something on his mind.
Lexi nodded, then quickly left, walking ahead of Dave and, she hoped, well out of that weirdness with Matt. She didn’t want to wonder what he was thinking about. For all she knew, he was always moody on dates, and that’s why he seldom went out with the same woman twice.
As soon as she and Dave stepped outside, he gestured toward his car, against which his sister leaned with a scowl. “I’ve talked her into letting me take her home,” he said. “Do you mind if we call it a night?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Can you give me a ride?”
“It’s the least I can do,” he said with a smile. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
“I could say the same,” she said, thinking of Matt. He’d taken the cop thing better than she’d expected, but maybe it hadn’t sunk in yet. Or maybe he was so thrown by his floundering date that he had chosen to ignore Lexi’s. That was probably ideal.
So why did it make her feel so lousy inside?
Chapter Six
A hand waved in front of Matt’s face.
He blinked and the bar came back into focus.
Carla stared at him over the rim of a blue cocktail that had set him back twelve bucks, not eight. A bit steep for a place serving warm beer for a dollar, but it was what it was. He had other things on his mind.
Like Lexi dating a cop.
Matt should have felt better. The man had, at least once in his life, passed a background check. He was probably trusted with a service weapon, though not by Matt. He’d apparently brought Lexi there for a reason other than cheap booze, considering he’d sipped water for the duration of his stay.
But Matt didn’t feel better.
Matt felt like shit.
Carla’s gaze had drifted to the man Lexi had pointed out, and even in Matt’s distracted state he saw her pupils flare with interest. Normally that’d be his cue to turn on t
he charm, but that night he couldn’t have cared less. “Hey,” he said, drawing her back, if only for a moment. “I have a headache. Do you mind if I take you home?”
One of her coiffed eyebrows listed upward. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”
He sighed. “Do you want to go or not?”
She sipped the drink, her attention sliding briefly back to the other guy, who acknowledged Matt with a tip of his chin. “Nah, I’m good. Brad said he’d like to get to know me.”
Brad. Matt withdrew his wallet. “I’ll at least cover your ride home.”
She glanced back at her new friend, glossy strands of hair glinting in the dim light. “I don’t think I’ll be needing that,” she purred. “But thanks.” She stood and dragged a fingertip along his bicep. “If she means that much to you, just go for it.”
“Excuse me?”
She batted her eyelashes in a move that wasn’t so much coy, he figured, as an attempt to call him out. “Lexi. You never know until you ask.”
“It’s not like that,” he sputtered. “We’re just friends.”
“Sure you are,” Carla said knowingly before turning and swinging her hips back to Brad, who lit up like a kid being led into a chocolate factory.
Matt looked away, to the warm beer that sat barely touched in front of him. He left it there, threw down a twenty for his drink and Carla’s, and headed for the door. He’d been ditched by two women in less than an hour, which had to be a record, but the funny thing was he couldn’t have cared less about them.
Lexi, though. For some damned reason he couldn’t have cared more.
…
Dave took Lexi straight back to Matt’s. He’d been a perfect gentleman who not only charmed Lexi but also had his previously surly sister smiling by the time he pulled up to the curb. Clearly a great guy, but for Lexi, sparks remained elusive. She did, however, say she’d like to stay in touch, and his grin upon hearing so made her feel more than a bit guilty.
She tried not to think about that as she headed into Matt’s house. After a few moments of assuring a sleepy Waffles that he was the best boy, she stepped into the shower and washed away the staleness of the night.
She didn’t hear Matt come in.
She was still wondering how his date had gone early the next morning when she left for Elsie’s.
Matt’s grandmother lived in an assisted living retirement condo. Lexi had been sad to lose her as a neighbor when she’d announced the move after their high school graduation, but she soon realized how great of a move it had been. Elsie thrived with the social aspect—she even went skinny-dipping with a few other residents, if Elsie, the security footage, and one horrified administrator were to be believed—but what made them all sleep better was the availability of a twenty-four hour medical staff.
Elsie preferred to think of herself as independent, however, and while that might have been technically true, she was a nightmare resident for any HOA. When the condos put in window boxes, each one had been planted with tender new petunias. Lexi had been at the presentation and had gained an utter appreciation for the care the staff put into giving each resident small gardening tools and gloves to care for their tiny window plots. The next time Lexi had visited Elsie, her petunias were gone, replaced with an “herb” Elsie swore helped her arthritis.
Lexi steered into a parking spot and downed the last of her coffee before heading inside. The condos were designed for residents to age in place, so they all opened to a central hall, lessening the chances of a dementia patient wandering off and shielding everyone from door-to-door salespeople and solicitors. Lexi signed in, pausing with bated breath to see if the front desk had any more of Elsie’s antics to share, but the woman merely wished her a cheerful good morning and went back to her paperwork.
Elsie was all the way at the end of the hall—far from the pool, her window box not in view of the front parking lot or visitors to the outdoor common areas—and the woman stood in her doorway waiting for Lexi. “It’s about time, child.”
“I’m early,” Lexi told her.
“Well, my hair won’t set itself,” Elsie grumbled. Her housecoat threatened to fall open.
Knowing Elsie, and not prepared for the early morning edition of naked grandma, Lexi gently tugged the tie that circled Elsie’s waist. “Your hair hasn’t changed in twenty years, Elsie. There’s not a strand on your head that doesn’t know where it belongs.”
“These old geezers here don’t know that,” Elsie said, ushering Lexi into her living room. “They’ve got nothing to do all day but gossip. There’s no reason to let them bring my grooming into it.”
Lexi thought of Matt and Carla and the woman the gamer kid had swiped from him and realized just how much he and Elsie had in common. Both were always on the prowl for something. Lexi might have found the connection—separated by gender, two generations, and more than five decades—amusing, but that stupid knot wouldn’t leave her chest. She realized she was frowning and straightened. “Are you ready? Where’s your crossword book?” Elsie liked to do crosswords out loud with Lexi while she did her hair, and Lexi wanted to do anything but think about Matt.
“Forget that. What’s on your mind?”
Lexi sighed. This had to be a new record. She had no clue how someone widely believed to be half off her rocker could be so observant, but that was Elsie for you. She tended to defy the odds and—as a direct quote—damn their expectations. Which was exactly what she’d said when an administrator had told her that she was never again to swim naked in the pool, after which Elsie pointed out there wasn’t a rule against it and the admin stated they expected residents would know better. Unfortunately, Lexi preferred Elsie’s colorful story to her own, but she might as well spit it out. “I caught my kitchen on fire, so I moved into Matt’s guest room for a few weeks.” Deflection would have been futile. Elsie would figure it out in a heartbeat, then grill her about why she hadn’t wanted to admit to living with Matt.
Elsie’s eyes blazed to attention. “A fire? Was anyone hurt?”
“No, we’re all fine. Waffles was at Matt’s.”
“I see.”
Was Elsie upset with her? She had put Matt in danger, indirectly, but living next door to Lexi and any cooking appliance might as well be considered high risk. “It was an accident,” Lexi rushed to say. “I was trying to bake a—” No, she didn’t want Elsie to know that. It was a surprise. “Anyway, it’s only temporary. The contractor said it would be about three weeks, and I’m in the guest room. Between his twenty-four-hour shifts and my nine-to-fives, we probably won’t see each other that often, but—” She thought of him going all father-of-the-bride on perfectly respectable Dave while Matt’s own date stood there, poured into a dress that wouldn’t keep an ingrown hair a secret, and suddenly wondered if Elsie thought her living with Matt meant…something else. Elsie was far from conventional, but Lexi had heard her mention proper courting more than once, and if she thought Lexi and Matt were…yeah, no. Despite the rather errant direction Lexi’s thoughts had taken of late, that was a huge no. “If I don’t kill Matt in the next three weeks,” she blurted, “it’ll be a miracle.”
Elsie had watched, expressionless, which hadn’t helped Lexi’s rambling. Now, she arched one unruly eyebrow and said, “With your cooking?”
“No,” Lexi said slowly, certain Elsie had to be teasing her, not that it mattered. “With my hands around his throat.”
Elsie released a relieved sigh. “Well, in that position, at least you can’t cook for him.”
Lexi blinked.
“You can promise me that, can’t you dear? To not cook anything in his house?” Elsie waved a hand. “Maybe the microwave, if you’re careful, but just for yourself. Let him fix his own food.”
Stunned, Lexi didn’t say anything for a long moment. Elsie didn’t seem to notice. Finally, Lexi asked, “Do you still want me to do your hair?”
/>
“Well, why else are you here?” Elsie fussed, grabbing her crossword book and plopping into the chair with the ease and flippancy of a teenage girl. Lexi had a sudden flash of gratitude that Elsie had needed Lexi’s mom years ago—not for her poor health then, but for giving Lexi her friendship with Matt. “Old dice game,” Elsie said, launching right into crosswords. “Six letters, starts with K.”
Lexi looked down over Elsie’s shoulder, frowning. “The book isn’t open yet.”
“I looked at it earlier while I was waiting for you.” She turned to a partially completed page and waited, pen poised.
“Oh.” Lexi started on Elsie’s hair, fluffing the bedhead out of it. Lexi wasn’t a stylist and she never did anything more monumental than fixing the parts Elsie couldn’t see, but that was the worst-kept secret in the room. Elsie loved the routine and the company. They both did.
“Kismet,” Elsie said.
“Huh?”
“The dice game,” she said gleefully. “It’s Kismet.”
Lexi waited a moment before asking, “Aren’t you going to write it down?”
“Of course,” Elsie said, not lifting her pen. “What the fortune teller said, past tense. Eight letters.”
“Fortune,” Lexi said. “No, not enough letters.”
“Ends in a d.”
“Foretell…foretold.”
“Yep, that’s it.” Elsie angled the book away, scribbling in it. “Hey, you should know this one. Rapid oxidation with heat and light. Ten letters, ends with n.”
Finding Mr. Right Next Door (Firefighters of Station 1) Page 5
