Sexy Suit: A Cocky Hero Club Novel

by Croix, J. H.

  My mother’s laugh drifted through the line. “I’m glad to know he’s gonna hear my voice. How are you, hon? Feeling better now that you found your boy?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you for texting last night to let us know. You know we’ve been worried about you and him. I told your Aunt Jessie you would probably come home if you didn’t find Barnable.”

  “Definitely not. I would’ve stayed here until I found him. I’m just glad he didn’t get run over by a car.”

  “As we all are. Now that you can stop worrying, tell me how is Eleanor’s place? I haven’t been there since we visited when you were a little girl.”

  I let my mother’s soft, Southern accent slide over me, warm and soothing. Although I was excited to be here in New York, the way people talked here was something else. Every word came out fast and staccato. The words themselves were like sharp corners you had to be careful not to run into. It was definitely different from the way people talked in New Orleans.

  “Well, I daresay the house might look just like it did when we visited years ago. It’s in excellent condition if a bit dusty. She hasn’t upgraded anything. It’s like stepping into a time warp. I’d honestly guess she didn’t update much after the sixties. She’s got one of those refrigerators with those big handles that click when you pull them open,” I explained.

  My mother laughed. “Well, now that’s something.”

  “Do you think it’s okay if I make changes?”

  “Of course, dear. You own the house and everything in it,” she said firmly.

  “I know, but it feels weird. I really didn’t know Aunt Eleanor very well, and I never even came here after that time we visited when I was little.”

  “I don’t think that much matters, dear. When you were a little girl, you started sending letters to all of your aunts and uncles. It just so happens Eleanor lived the longest. Although you hadn’t seen her since she last came down here when you were a teenager, you were the most like her of all of the grandchildren.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yes! You’ve always been a bit of a free spirit, and she certainly was. You’re also a bit too independent for my sanity. As you can see, she was too. After her husband, Marcus passed on, she ran that company for a bit before she sold it. Maybe it seems small now, but back then, it was a big deal. Not many women did that and certainly not on their own. Now, you do her proud. For God’s sake, get a new refrigerator. I can’t even imagine how much electricity that old thing uses,” my mother said, tsk-tsking on the phone. “How is Barnable, by the way?”

  “Oh, he seems fine. He has a scratch on his side, but the vet said he’s fine. I gave him a bath last night.”

  “And how is your hand?”

  I bit back a sigh. I’d mentioned I cut my hand in my text to her last night and had already sent several texts assuring her I was fine. “Mama, it’s fine.”

  “You need to make sure to thank that man. I’m so relieved he didn’t call the police on you and Barnable. That could’ve been a bit of a mess.”

  “I promise I thanked him. I don’t actually know how to reach him, but I do know where he lives. Things are a little different here, though. I’m not so sure it would be okay to stop by.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  My mother moved her voice away from the phone. “Yes?” Her voice returned to full volume. “Helen’s here,” she said, referring to one of her close friends. “I’m gonna go, darling. You call me, okay?”

  “Of course. Love you, Mama.”

  “Love you too, dear.”

  After hanging up, I stood, scanning the kitchen. The old brownstone had lovely hardwood flooring throughout with tile in the kitchen and the bathroom. I was relieved Aunt Eleanor had skipped the error of updating in the ‘70s. If she’d gotten trapped in that era, I feared there would be shag carpeting on top of all the hardwood floors. Instead, the brownstone looked like a movie set out of the ‘60s—furniture, appliances, and so on.

  Everything was clean and tidy. A few of the rooms had been repainted. The only benefit to Barnable getting loose was I had thoroughly inspected the house to figure out where he escaped. I’d discovered the lock on the back door was broken. It went out into a lovely little courtyard where he’d likely ventured out through the gate. I’d already arranged for the lock to be repaired, and the gate affixed with a locking mechanism today.

  The downstairs was comprised of a large kitchen on one side, a sitting room, and a formal dining room on the other side of the hallway. There was a small dining area in the kitchen that looked out over the little courtyard in the back. Further down the hallway was a bathroom and laundry room with a door that led into the basement. I presumed the basement of this brownstone was something like Ryan’s.

  Coffee cup in hand, I padded down the hallway, which led to a pretty entryway. There was a set of double doors with windows flanking it on either side. A staircase hugged the curved wall that led upstairs. I climbed the stairs, taking the time to investigate the three rooms up there. There was a master bedroom with big windows that looked out over the courtyard. It had its own private bathroom and an absolutely lovely clawfoot tub. The other two bedrooms upstairs were smaller with a shared bathroom. I had more space than I knew what to do with.

  According to the executor of aunt Eleanor’s will, this place currently had a market value of $2 million. He’d given me a look and recommended I consider selling. I had zero intention of selling. I felt like this was where I was supposed to be right now.

  After returning to the kitchen, I decided I’d shower and head out to do some shopping today. It was going to take some work to update everything in this place. I figured I better start with the appliances and go from there.

  Chapter Five

  Addie

  A few hours later, I stood in the refrigerator section of a department store dedicated solely to appliances. I was wholly and utterly overwhelmed.

  To one side of me, a mother and daughter were arguing. The mother thought the prices were too high, while her teenage daughter thought they should make the refrigerator decision based on looks alone. While I wasn’t too worried about money, I did want something reliable.

  I spun in a circle, wondering if I could find a salesperson to ask for some guidance. I had eschewed doing so thus far because I’d quickly discovered in the last few days that the moment I spoke, people assumed I had no clue. I was anything but stupid with a graduate degree in fine arts. But my Southern accent gave me away as not being local.

  As I scanned the area, my eyes landed on a pair of shoulders encased in a navy suit jacket. I knew those shoulders, the way they stretched the fabric tight across the back, and the way the man’s dark hair curled at the collar.

  My belly did a little flip.

  Good grief, Addie. It’s just a man’s shoulders. You don’t really know that’s Ryan.

  If my belly could’ve spoken, it would. Because my belly knew that man was Ryan Blake. As if to prove a point, my belly executed a spinning flip when he turned and began walking in my direction.

  Ryan walked with purpose, his stride long and brisk. He stopped and glanced up at the signs above the aisles. Another turn and his eyes locked on me.

  For a split second—it was so fast I almost missed it—his eyes widened, and I thought he was about to smile. He quickly got control of that impulse, schooling his expression to neutral.

  Closing the distance between us in three long strides, he stopped in front of me and inclined his head. “Hello, Addie.”

  I’d never thought much about a man’s voice. Ever. Until I heard Ryan’s voice. Dear God. Although he had a typical New York accent, sharp and clipped, the way the words came out with a hint of a rasp sent a shiver chasing through me. Butterflies rose in a mass in my belly and spun in a circle, sending heat scattering like sparks through my body.

  All he’d done was say hello. Sweet Jesus.

  “Hello, Ryan,” I said.

  He studied me for a moment
, not even bothering to hide the fact that he gave me a full up and down with his eyes. I was wearing a skirt over a pair of wool leggings paired with my favorite cowboy boots. Atop that, I had on a silky blue blouse with my fluffy down coat.

  “We’re both wearing blue,” I announced, rather inanely.

  Ryan’s eyes landed on mine again, his lips just barely hinting at a smile. I swear to God, he wanted to smile.

  As had been the case in my entire life, my mouth got ahead of my brain. “You know you want to smile. Just go ahead. It won’t kill you.”

  His intense gaze studied me for another beat before his smile started at one corner and stretched to the other as he chuckled softly.

  Oh God. His voice was one thing, but that low laugh? Downright dangerous. Heat slid like liquid fire through my veins.

  As evidence of how thoroughly Ryan had gotten to me, I completely forgot where we were until he spoke again. “How’s your hand feeling?”

  I lifted my hand and slid my jacket sleeve up just past my wrist. “It’s sore, but it looks good.”

  He leaned over, his eyes scanning over the rows of stitches. Lifting his gaze to mine again, he nodded. “It does look good. I’m sure the soreness will wear off. How’s Barnable?”

  “He’s great. The door is fixed, and he’s all settled. Thank you again for your help last night.”

  “No problem. What brings you to the appliance store?”

  “I need a refrigerator,” I blurted out as I glanced around me. “There are too many refrigerators to choose from, and I have no idea what to do.”

  “Did yours break?”

  “No, but it doesn’t work very well, and I’m pretty sure it’s over fifty years old. My great aunt took good care of her place, but I don’t think she’s updated anything since before I was born.”

  “You certainly don’t look fifty,” he countered, a teasing glint in his eyes.

  I snorted. “I’m definitely not fifty, just three past half of that, in fact.”

  Ryan nodded and paused to glance around. “What are you going to get?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never bought a refrigerator. I don’t want to ask a salesperson because I’ve discovered that everyone assumes I’m stupid.”

  Ryan’s gaze swung back to mine. “Oh, I doubt that. You seem quite sharp to me.”

  I shrugged. “I’m plenty smart, but my accent gives it up that I’m not from around here. Do you know anything about refrigerators?”

  Chapter Six

  Ryan

  Addie’s question echoed in my mind. Do you know anything about refrigerators?

  I stared at her for probably too long. It didn’t help matters that she was so damn sexy. There she stood in her cowboy boots and leggings with a denim skirt. Her fluffy white down jacket was hanging open and revealed a silky blouse where the top button landed a little too low for my sanity.

  I could see the tease of her amber skin and a hint of black lace peeking out along the edge of her blouse. Her hair looked windblown. Given that it was, in fact, windy outside today, that might’ve been my only rational observation. My eyes kept getting caught on her plump lips, her lopsided smile, and that little glint in her dark eyes.

  I wasn’t used to people teasing me except for a few close friends. Addie was like a bracing breath of fresh air, absolutely nothing like any woman I’d ever encountered. Teasing me about smiling and flinging her hands up in the air over refrigerators.

  “I might know a thing or two about refrigerators. What do you want?” I heard myself asking, immediately wondering what the hell I was doing offering up help on refrigerator shopping.

  I barely had time to breathe during my days. I’d inexplicably found myself here when the microwave in my office had broken. With my executive assistant out at a personal appointment, I decided to come deal with it myself. There were any number of other people I could’ve demanded to find me a microwave, but I hadn’t been in the mood to explain. So, here I was. Now, apparently, I would also be helping Addie find a refrigerator.

  “I just want a regular size refrigerator. I’m all about whatever’s the most reliable. I also don’t want to spend a fortune if possible,” she explained.

  She lifted a sheet of paper in her hand and thrust it toward me. “Here’s a comparison chart. What do you think? Although, I don’t really trust these things either. I don’t know how accurate they are.”

  I scanned the comparison chart and shrugged. “It’s fair enough. How about this?” I pointed to one on the list. “It’s reliable and basically mid-range as far as cost. It’s actually the brand I happen to have in my kitchen if you noticed last night.”

  Addie peered up into my face and shook her head, a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. “No. I didn’t notice. My hand was bleeding, and I finally found my dog.”

  “Maybe that or the breaking and entering affected your focus?” I quipped.

  Addie’s smile broke wide open on her face, and it felt as if a ray of sun splashed over us. “Maybe.” She gave a small shrug.

  We stood there, for definitely too long, just staring at each other. I didn’t know what the hell was going on with me and my crazy reaction to Addie, but I knew I didn’t want to let her slip out of my life.

  “Excuse me, can I help you?” a voice said.

  Addie glanced sideways, blessing the young man who stopped beside us with her smile. My reaction to her was so irrational that I experienced a twinge of envy. I wanted Addie’s smile all to myself. I didn’t know what that said about me, but I wasn’t in the mood to question it.

  “Not just yet, but thank you for checking,” Addie said before looking back at me. “Show me which one you’re talking about.”

  The man looked curiously between us, but he stepped away when I cast him a look. I was an expert at the kind of look that made people think twice about whatever they might want to say and back off.

  Without thinking, I turned and rested my hand on the curve of Addie’s lower back, coaxing her forward as I scanned the area until my eyes landed on the refrigerator in question.

  “This one,” I said, stopping right in front of it.

  Addie promptly opened the doors and inspected the inside of the refrigerator. After a moment, she looked up at me with a firm nod. “Okay, I’ll get this one.”

  “You’re convinced already?”

  “Yes. I trust your opinion on this. Why would you lie to me about a refrigerator? Plus, I know where you live. I can come check.”

  “On my refrigerator?”

  She shrugged lightly. “If I doubted that this was the one you had, yes. I may not know you well, S—” She abruptly cut herself off. “Ryan,” she continued, “but I have no doubt you’re not going to waste money on an unreliable refrigerator.”

  “True.”

  “Hey, what are you doing here? Appliance stores don’t really seem the kind of place you’d visit,” she commented.

  “I’m here for a microwave.”

  “I bet you already know which one you want.”

  When she smiled, I felt my own lips curling up. I thought it might be physically impossible not to smile when Addie did.

  “I do. I was just trying to find the microwave section.”

  “I know right where that is,” Addie said as she slipped her hand through my elbow and began to tug me along with her.

  “How would you know? I can’t imagine you’ve ever been here before today.”

  “Nope, I haven’t. But I came through the back door, and the microwaves are right over there.”

  Seeing as I didn’t mind one bit having the warmth of Addie’s hand curled around my forearm as she hurried through the store, I didn’t resist being pulled in her wake.

  My afternoon ended up spent entirely with Addie. After I found my microwave and bought it, I waited while Addie purchased her refrigerator and arranged for delivery that very afternoon.

  Because I didn’t quite seem to be rational whatsoever when it came to being near Addie, I fo
und myself offering to meet her at the brownstone for the delivery. Although I didn’t doubt she could manage it, I did worry about unscrupulous deliverymen. She lived in an upscale neighborhood by herself in a brownstone that, by her own description, hadn’t been updated for decades. She was a mark if I’d ever seen one.

  There was also her injured hand. Obviously, she needed help. Okay, maybe that wasn’t too obvious. Although I couldn’t claim to know Addie well at all, my two encounters with her thus far had shown her to be remarkably independent. I had no good excuse for offering to help, at least none I could admit out loud. In all honesty, I simply wanted more time in her presence.

  My tendency was toward keeping my life tightly controlled. Work defined my life, and I had few friends. I had learned thoroughly in my childhood that if someone mattered, life could really knock you off balance and yank your heart out of your chest while you were stumbling around. Suffice it to say, I wasn’t inclined to let anyone get to me.

  Yet, Addie drew me to her in a way no one ever had. She was whimsical, she was funny, and she was sassy. Her spark shined so brightly it lit up my entire life.

  I wanted more. That urge brought me into Addie’s kitchen late that afternoon. She had shed her fluffy down coat and was torturing me even further because her silky blouse would slip and slide, giving me more than a glimpse of that black lace. I badly wanted to flick her buttons open and trail kisses down the valley between her breasts.

  Barnable gave a soft woof when I entered the kitchen. After he sniffed my feet and I greeted him with a few pets, he settled down on a bed in the corner.

  I studied the refrigerator she was replacing. “You weren’t kidding.”

  Addie was walking across the kitchen to make coffee. She glanced over her shoulder, her curls bouncing with the motion. “About what?”

  “You said you didn’t think your great aunt had updated this place in fifty years. I think you might be right. I feel like I’ve stepped through a door into another era.”