One Night in Buenos Aires

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One Night in Buenos Aires Page 9

by Amanda K. Byrne


  The space encompassed a dining area and a kitchen, tall windows covering half the wall in front of her and the end facing the street. The ceiling was high, adding to the impression of openness. Hardwood floors, nicked and darkened with age, were bare. His sofa was pushed up under the windows at the far end, a flat-screen TV mounted to the wall across from it.

  “It’s big,” she said. At least, the main room was. It was a lot bigger than his old place.

  He set the kitten on the floor, and it scampered off, pouncing on another kitten with gray-and-white fur. Cats. He had cats. And a new apartment. That he hadn’t let her see until he’d moved in.

  “Whoops. Hey, baby, let’s sit down a minute.” He caught her as she tried to crumble to the floor, a wave of dizziness weakening her legs. Her bag hit the floor with a thunk as he guided her to the couch. “So. Um. I guess you’re wondering what’s going on.”

  She stared at him.

  Then she saw the nerves. Strung tight, pinching his mouth, his eyes a little wild with it, hands trembling as he reached for hers. “I needed more space.”

  No, really?

  He gulped down air. “More space, and—” He shut his eyes. “D’you want to see the place? Maybe you should see the place first.” Surging to his feet, he dragged her across the room to the kitchen area. It was larger and newer than her kitchen, and she eyed the range with envy.

  He pulled her away almost as soon as they stopped, heading for the hallway out the back of the dining area. It proved to be short and dark. A small bathroom with a claw-foot tub charmed her, and she barely heard his anxious chatter.

  There were two more doors, one closed, the other halfway open. She stuck her head in through the open door. He’d set up his drafting table and cabinets on one side, the other completely bare.

  “And this is the master bedroom.” The knob rattled under his hand as he twisted it.

  “Oh!” The bedroom was lovely. A trio of windows let light in, the edges draped in gray fabric. Curtains, she guessed. His bed stood in the center of the room. Space. So much space. It had all the old charm of her bedroom and none of the cracks.

  He broke away from her side and sat on the edge of the bed. “You like it?”

  “It’s awesome. I’m jealous.”

  “Want to live here?” He laughed, the sound edging toward manic. “I mean, want to live here with me?”

  Live with him? She’d never lived with a guy before. She and Zach, despite how much they’d loved each other, hadn’t ever discussed it. She swayed, and he shot up and off the bed, his hands closing around her arms before she could fall. “Live with you?”

  Scooping her up, he carried her to the bed and sat, holding her on his lap. “Yeah. With me. I’ve never wanted to before. But every time I have to go home without you, it feels like a piece of me crumbles.” He pushed a lock of hair away from her face.

  Think. She needed to think. “Why are there kittens in your living room?”

  He glanced at the door, and one of the kittens ambled into the room, quickly followed by the other. “They’re part of the plan to convince you to move in here. See, they’re your cats. But they live here. Which means you do, too.”

  “Your logic makes no sense.” She lowered her head to the crook of his neck, relaxing against him. “Why wouldn’t you let me see the place first?”

  “I wanted to surprise you. I know how much you love your apartment, and I wanted to find something like it. Only there wouldn’t be anything broken. Shit. I’m doing this all wrong, aren’t I? I suck at this whole talking thing,” he admitted. “My apartment isn’t big enough for two people’s stuff, and there was no way I was moving into your place.” He cupped her jaw. “You’re the first woman I’ve wanted more from. More than what you’ve given me, and you’ve given so much. Will you stay?”

  Was she ready for this? Living with someone, committing to them in a whole new way?

  “What are the cats’ names?” She climbed off his lap and got on her knees, the kittens coming forward to sniff her fingers.

  “The shelter named them Linus and Lucy. Lucy’s the one with the white patches.” He got on his knees beside her, gently pushing one of the kittens onto its side to stroke its belly. “Drea?”

  She picked up a kitten and cuddled it, giggling when its sandpaper tongue laved her chin. “You got me cats. Why?”

  He sighed. “It was time. You wanted one. I know you did.” His hands curved over her hips. “They’re yours. So am I. Stay with me, Drea.”

  His kiss was fierce, holding a desperate edge she wanted to soothe. The kitten in her hands meowed in protest as she dropped it, her arms winding around his neck. “Of course I will,” she whispered against his mouth. “I’m yours.

  “I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

  THE END

  Acknowledgments

  I’m bad with thanking people. I’ll probably forget to thank someone important, and then I’ll feel horrible and bite my nails, worrying they’re going to hate me or something.

  So I’ll start with the obvious.

  A huge, enormous thank you to my editor, Stephen Morgan. You picked this story out of the slush and helped me dress it up in bows and lace, and this story wouldn’t have been nearly as awesome without you.

  Thanks to all the folks at Entangled for making me feel so welcome. It’s nice knowing that no matter how stupid the question, someone’s always willing to answer.

  To my family and friends, thank you so very, very much for your support. It’s been a long road, and sometimes I don’t even know where the hell I’m going, but I’ll get there eventually. Extra special thanks to Christy, for being one of the first people to believe I could do this. It means the world to me that you thought my words were good, even when I wasn’t so sure myself.

  I don’t know how I managed to win the love lotto, but a big, mushy thank you to the BF extraordinaire, Aaron, for your support, willingness to listen to me ramble, and general nerdiness. I love you!

  And finally, thanks to Ghiradelli for making the most amazing hot cocoa mix. If you ever stop making it, I may cry.

  About the Author

  When she’s not plotting ways to sneak her latest shoe purchase past her partner, Amanda writes sexy, snarky romance and urban fantasy. She likes her heroines smart and unafraid to make mistakes, and her heroes strong enough to take them on. She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, and no, it really doesn’t rain that much.

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