English Girl in New York

by Scarlet Wilson

  ‘You don’t?’ He had a gleam in his eyes. He was trying to lighten the mood. Ease the stress they were both under. ‘Is your apartment cold upstairs? You were bundled up like you live in an igloo.’

  She took a sip of the soda he’d just poured for her. ‘No. It was comfort clothes. I was freezing when I got in—I ruined my suede boots walking in that mucky slush. My raincoat was covered in muddy splatters and all I could think about was getting inside, heating up and eating myself silly.’

  He tilted his head as he sat down. In this dim light in the kitchen he had really dark brown eyes. Comforting kind of eyes. The kind you could lose yourself in.

  ‘And what does eating yourself silly involve?’

  She shrugged. ‘Chocolate. In all varieties. Macaroni cheese. Grilled bagels with melted cheese. Porridge. Pancakes.’ She pointed towards the ceiling. ‘I bought some stuff at Mr Meltzer’s before I came home. I was worried I’d be stuck inside for a few days with no comfort foods.’ She gave him a grin and shook her head. ‘Believe me, that would not be pretty.’

  He eyed her closely, the smell of pizza starting to fill the apartment. ‘And would you be willing to share some of your stash?’

  Her smile widened. The atmosphere was changing between them. They were going from frantic neighbours to something else entirely. Were they flirting here? Was that what was happening? It had been so long for Carrie she wasn’t sure she remembered how.

  She rested her elbows on the table, sitting her head in her hands. ‘Oh, I don’t know about sharing. I might be willing to trade.’

  ‘Aha, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  The gleam wasn’t disappearing; in fact, if it was possible, it was getting naughtier. ‘You come down here with your innocent smiles, woolly socks and grandma pyjamas—not forgetting an abandoned baby—with your tales of a huge pirate haul of comfort foods upstairs, and now you’re trying to hold me to ransom.’ He leaned back in his chair and tapped the surface of the table. ‘You’re not really a grandma-pyjamas girl, are you? That was all just a ruse—you’re really a sexy negligee kind of girl.’ He lifted his hand and tapped his chin. ‘The question is, what colour?’

  She could feel her cheeks start to pink up. She hadn’t been imagining it. He was flirting with her. And the thing that amazed her—or terrified her—was she wanted to flirt right back. Could she trade her bagels for a kiss?

  Wow. That thought made the blood rush into her cheeks. ‘What’s wrong with grandma pyjamas? They hide a multitude of sins.’

  He didn’t hesitate. ‘You don’t have any sins to hide.’

  She felt her breath stall. She couldn’t breathe in. She definitely couldn’t breathe out. She was stuck in that no man’s land. He’d said it so quickly. He didn’t even have to think about it twice.

  What did that mean?

  She made a vague attempt to laugh it off—feeling like a nervous teenager instead of a capable twenty-seven-year-old woman. ‘You’re a man. You really have no knowledge of water-filled bras or hold-your-gut-in underwear.’

  He leaned across the table towards her. A cheeky smile across his face. ‘And you have no need for either.’

  He stayed there. Inches away from her face. Letting her see the tiny, fine laughter lines around his eyes and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks.

  Up close and personal Daniel Cooper looked good enough to eat.

  And then there was the smell. His cologne. It was affecting her senses. Everything seemed heightened.

  Her skin prickled, her hairs standing upright. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue running across her lips.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. Or maybe it was his brown eyes. The kind you could melt into. Both were distracting her. Both were making entirely inappropriate thoughts about a man she hardly knew invade her brain and send a warm feeling to her stomach.

  A feeling she hadn’t felt since...

  It was like a bucket of cold water being tipped over her head. That, and the awareness of the little contented noises from the crib off to the side.

  That was why she was here.

  Not for any other reason. Dan wasn’t interested in her. Not really. He just didn’t want to be stuck with some strange baby on his own. He’d made that perfectly clear.

  The rest?

  She hardly knew the guy, and with handsome looks and a job like his? He probably had women eating out of the palm of his hand.

  The thought made her pull back in her chair, her sudden movement causing him to blink and a wrinkle to appear on his brow.

  She fixed her eyes on the table. They were safe there.

  ‘Don’t you have a friend you can call to help you with Abraham overnight? I’m sure you must have plenty of female friends who’d be willing to give you a hand.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  She shrugged, trying to look complacent. Trying to pretend she hadn’t just almost asked him out loud if he had a girlfriend. ‘It means there must be someone other than me who can give you a hand.’

  He shook his head. ‘All the female cops I know are currently run off their feet on duty. My friends who are married all stay too far away to get here and help.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And the past few female companions I’ve had—I wouldn’t let within fifty feet of this little guy.’

  She almost choked on her soda. ‘Then maybe you should be more selective with your female friends.’ It was meant to sound playful, but it came out like a chastisement. All because her insides were wound up so tightly.

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Maybe I should.’

  It was left hanging in the air between them.

  She had no idea what to make of that. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. ‘You mean there’s absolutely no one you can ask to help you out?’

  ‘Just you.’

  ‘Dan...’ She looked out at the falling snow. If it were even possible, it seemed to be falling even heavier.

  She looked around the apartment and threw her hands in the air. ‘I don’t like this, Dan. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. It doesn’t matter that you’re a cop and one of the “good guys”.’ She put her fingers in the air and made the sign. ‘Baby or no baby, I can’t stay in an apartment with some strange guy. I’m just not comfortable.’

  He leaned back in his chair, watching her with those intense brown eyes.

  ‘What if I promise not to come near you at night? You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep on the sofa. We can move the crib during the night. That way—you’ll still have some privacy but we’ll both know the other is there if we need a hand.’

  Her. In a room by herself with Abraham in a crib. She was going to throw up right there and then.

  And then Dan did something. He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘I need help, Carrie. I need you. Don’t say you can’t do it.’

  A lump a mile wide appeared in her throat.

  He was leaning towards her in the dim light. Her eyes fixated on his lips. What was wrong with her? And what was wrong with her emotions?

  Everything about her wanted to run right now.

  But her ethics and her goodwill were making her stay. She couldn’t abandon Abraham right now. His own mother had already done that.

  She had been the one to find him. She should be the one responsible for him.

  ‘I feel really awkward about all this, Dan.’ She sighed.

  ‘Then let’s see if we can make you feel unawkward.’

  ‘Is that even a word?’

  ‘It is now.’ He put his head in his hands. ‘So, Carrie McKenzie, what’s your favourite movie?’

  ‘What?’ It was so not what she was expecting. She was expecting him to pry. To ask why she’d reacted like that. To ask what had been wrong
with her this whole evening.

  The question was totally random and took her by surprise. It took a few seconds for her brain to think of an appropriate response. ‘If it’s adults’ it’s Dirty Dancing. If it’s kids’ then definitely Toy Story. What kind of a question is that anyway?’

  ‘A getting-to-know-you question,’ he said as he took a sip of his soda. Just like that. So matter-of-fact. Boy, this guy didn’t mess around. He raised his eyebrows at her. ‘What? You’ve never been on a date and done the getting-to-know-you questions before?’

  She opened her mouth to react, to ask what he meant, then stopped herself dead. He was being casual. He was being cool. And anything she would say right now would be distinctly uncool.

  One moment she’d been staring into his eyes wondering what it would be like to kiss him—next they were having a first-date kind of conversation.

  She took a deep breath. ‘It’s been a while,’ she said quietly. ‘I guess I’m out of practice.’

  ‘How long?’

  His question was fired back straight away. She could tell a lie here and try and pretend to be blasé. But it just didn’t suit her. ‘About seven years.’ She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye. She’d had to think about that. Had it really been that long? She’d dated Mark for five years before she was pregnant with Ruby, and it had been more than a year since then. To Dan’s credit he didn’t even blink, no smart remarks, no more questions. It was as if he just filed the information away for use at a later date.

  She shouldn’t have said anything. It was time to move things back to the original question. Get off this subject completely. ‘You do realise I had to leave out the musicals—for obvious reasons.’

  The eyebrows lifted even further. ‘What obvious reasons?’

  She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t possibly count them. I’ll have you know I know the words to every song of every musical ever made.’ She gave him a cheeky wink. ‘And some of the dance moves.’

  He leaned across the table towards her. ‘The thing that scares me about that is—I believe you.’ He kept his eyes fixed on hers. ‘I might ask to see some of those dance moves.’

  She gulped. Colour was rushing to her cheeks. She’d been premature with that wink. Trying to appear sassier and way cooler than she actually was. Maybe not her best idea. Especially when she could almost feel the heat radiating from him. It was time to get this back to safer territory. ‘What about you?’ That was easy. That kept everything on an even keel.

  ‘Definitely The Great Escape, with Steve McQueen on the motorbike. Nothing can beat that.’

  She nodded. She’d watched the movie a hundred times—knew some of the lines by heart. ‘And a kids’ movie?’

  He had the good grace to look a little bashful. ‘You might be surprised. But I love Finding Nemo. I love Marlin and Dory. It’s one of those movies that you turn the TV on, walk past and find yourself sucked in for two hours. Just like that.’ He snapped his fingers.

  She couldn’t help the smile that was plastered on her face. ‘I wouldn’t have taken you for a Finding Nemo kind of guy.’

  He took another sip of soda. ‘See? There’s lots you don’t know about me. And vice versa. Are you feeling a little less awkward now.’

  She let out a little laugh. ‘Just because I know what films you like doesn’t mean I feel comfortable about staying in your apartment overnight.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘So, what brought you to New York, then, Carrie? I know your business owns the apartment upstairs, but why you? Why now?’

  There it was. The killer question—sneaked on in there when her defences were down. She should have seen this coming.

  How could she answer that? How could she answer any of that without giving herself away?

  She picked up her glass and walked over to the sink. ‘I’ll do the dishes.’ She started running the hot water and putting some washing-up liquid into the basin. ‘Seems only fair.’

  ‘But what if we’re not finished yet?’

  He knew. He knew exactly what she was doing. Distraction. Avoidance.

  She jumped. His voice was just at her shoulder. His warm breath next to her ear. ‘What do you mean?’ Darn it. Her voice was wavering. He would have heard it. He would know the effect he was having on her.

  So much for acting cool.

  He slid his glass in next to hers, his arms on either side of her body, capturing her between them.

  She could feel him up against her. One part of her wanted to relax. To let herself relax against him as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

  But her frantically beating heart wouldn’t let her. And her oxygen-deprived brain wasn’t playing ball, either.

  She watched the bubbles form in the warm water. Letting them come halfway up her arms.

  And what did he mean anyhow?

  His hands slid into the basin next to hers. His head coming forward and almost resting on her shoulder. ‘I mean, what if we’re not finished with this conversation? What if I think you just avoided my question and I want to know why?’ His hands were over hers now and her breath hitched in her chest. ‘What if I want to get to know you a little better, Carrie McKenzie? Despite our unusual meeting—and despite our chaperone.’

  He lifted up a finger and held it in the air. It was covered in bubbles, with the light reflecting off them revealing a rainbow of colours. She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say—how to respond. Plus she was mesmerised by the bubbles popping one by one. He gave a little laugh, moved his finger and smudged the bubbles on her nose.

  She breathed in quickly in surprise, inhaling half the bubbles, leading to a coughing fit. All she could hear was Dan’s hearty laughter as she half choked to death, doubled over, then she felt his hand on her back, sharply at first, giving a few knocks to ease her choking, then soothing, rubbing her back while she caught her breath again.

  She finally stood upright, his hand still positioned on her back, damp from being in the sink. His other hand fell naturally to her hip.

  She turned her head to look at him. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Fun.’ He was grinning at her. Showing off his perfect teeth and American good-boy looks.

  It was like temptation all in one package.

  She bit her lip. ‘You’ve got me all wet.’ She squirmed as she pulled her T-shirt from her back. Then cringed at her words. No! She hadn’t really said that out loud, had she? She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks. Please don’t let him take anything from that.

  But he just gave her that sexy smile again. ‘We can’t have that. Do you want something else to wear?’ He walked towards one of the doors in the apartment—most likely his bedroom. ‘I’m sure I’ve something in here for you.’

  It was blatant. It was obvious. He was full of it.

  She folded her arms across her chest. She should be insulted, but the truth was she wasn’t really. She was a tiny bit flattered.

  She shook her head. ‘You were the college playboy, weren’t you?’

  He leaned against the doorjamb. ‘What if I was?’

  ‘Then you should be used to women thinking you’re too big for your boots.’

  The tension in the air was killing her. If this were a movie she would just walk over, wink and lead him into the bedroom.

  He sighed and looked skyward. ‘I love it when you talk dirty to me. It’s the accent. It’s killing me. Every time you talk I just—’

  There was a little grunt from the corner of the room and they both leaped about a foot in the air.

  Every other thought was pushed out of the window.

  In the blink of an eye they were both at the side of the crib, leaning overtop the still-sleeping baby.

  ‘Did that mean something?’ asked Dan.

  ‘How am I supposed to know?’
she whispered back.

  She watched Abraham’s little chest rise and fall, rise and fall. It was soothing. It was calming.

  ‘Did we decide on who was doing the night shift?’

  She wanted to say no. She wanted to say she couldn’t do it and retreat back upstairs to the safety of her silent apartment.

  She wanted to put the random flirtations out of her head.

  But there was so much churning around in her mind.

  This baby. Abraham.

  He didn’t have a mother to comfort him right now. Being around him was hard. Being around him was torture.

  But what if this was something she had to do? What if this was something she had to get past?

  Sure, she’d grieved for her daughter. She’d wept a bucketload of tears and spent weeks thinking ‘what if?’ She’d watched her relationship slowly but surely disintegrate around her and Mark. They’d both known it was inevitable, but that hadn’t made the parting any easier.

  So she’d been bereft. She’d been empty.

  But had she allowed herself to heal?

  And Dan wasn’t anything like Mark. Mark hadn’t walked from their relationship—he’d practically run.

  And here was Dan stepping in, and taking responsibility—albeit temporarily—for an unknown baby on their doorstep. Maybe for five minutes she should stop judging all men by Mark’s standard. Maybe she should take a little time to get to know someone like Dan. Someone who might restore her faith in humanity again.

  And did she even know how to do that?

  She straightened up, pushing her hands into her back and cricking her spine. Dan was at her back again. ‘Carrie, are you okay? Is there something you want to tell me?’

  This was it. This was her opportunity to tell him why she was acting so strangely around him and this baby. This was a chance for her to be honest.

  This was a chance to clear the air between them.

  But she was torn. There was a buzz between them.

  They were both feeling it. She liked the flirtation. It made her feel good. It made her feel normal again. Even though there was nothing about this situation that was normal.