Boudreaux 01 Easy Love (6 page)

Eli

“Who are they from?” Hilary asks.

The sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life, but I have no idea why he sent them because nothing good can come of it.

“My parents,” I lie easily, and shove the card in my pocket. Eli said he doesn’t play games, yet he kisses me like he’d like to devour me, says it’s a bad idea, and then sends me flowers?

“Oh, how lovely.” Hilary begins to chat about her own family while she sets me up with new passwords on the several software programs we use and shows me her routine, and all the while my mind wanders exactly where it shouldn’t: to Eli.

Does he think he can sweet talk me with a few pretty blooms?

Okay, maybe the flowers are sweet, but I don’t get it. I was up long after I turned off the lights and climbed into bed last night. I could still feel him against me, hear his low, rumbly voice. My body was on fire, and the man had really barely touched me. Sure, that kiss was combustible, and just the casual way he laid his hand on my back, or linked our fingers, sent my body into a tailspin unlike any I’ve ever felt.

Even with my ex-husband, and I don’t know for sure what that says about me.

By lunch time, I’ve been shown Hilary’s complete routine from start to finish, I’ve been given a tour of the building and introduced to everyone in the department, and Hilary was kind enough to show me exactly how Mr. Rudolph likes to have his coffee made.

Oh, and it must be on his desk by 8:05 every morning. Sharp.

Because, apparently, this is 1956, and it’s important to bring the boss man his coffee.

Hilary and two other assistants from our department, Suzanne and Taylor, invite me to join them for lunch, and I eagerly accept, hoping against hope that one of them lets something slip and I can wrap this case up early.

Of course, I’m not that lucky.

“So, where are you from, Kate?” Taylor asks, as she munches on her sandwich, careful not to get her perfectly manicured hands dirty. She’s short and lusciously curvy with dark hair that is styled in a short bob and has big brown eyes.

“Yes, tell us about you,” Suzanne, Taylor’s exact opposite with blonde hair, tall, statuesque figure, and bright blue eyes agrees, while Hilary nods expectantly and pops a chip in her mouth.

“Well, I grew up in the Denver area,” I reply, easily keeping the details vague. “Are you all from here?”

“Hilary and I are,” Suzanne replies, “but Taylor just moved here from Florida last year.”

“What part of Florida?” I ask.

“Orlando,” she replies with a wrinkle of the nose. “I left one hot, humid city for another.”

“What were you thinkin’?” Suzanne asks with a laugh. “I think we’re going to try to take the kids to Disney World next year.”

And just like that, the subject is redirected from me, and I sit in silence and listen while I nibble my sandwich and chips and sip my diet soda.

***

My phone is vibrating in my handbag as I push my way into my loft after a long day in the office. I drop my keys and briefcase on the kitchen table and dig out the phone, grinning when I see Van’s name on the caller ID.

“Hey, boss lady.”

“How was your first day, dear?” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Pretty much the usual. Choose forty-five different passwords, each with a different number, symbol, and the blood of a virgin, then gossip about the boss, not
my
boss, mind you, and the two assistants having an affair three offices over, learn how to make the boss his coffee, and walk home in the sweltering heat in a suit jacket.”

“So, it wasn’t boring then,” she replies dryly, as I eye the boxes that were delivered this afternoon and are now stacked in my living room.

“Nope, not boring.”
Tedious, long, and I wanted to poke my own eye out with something hot and sharp, but not boring.
“I just got home.”

“Do you like the loft?” I can hear Lance’s voice in the background, asking Van something about where his golf glove is, to which she says no.

“It’s really beautiful. I love the balcony off the bedroom. I think I’ll have some wine out there before bed tonight. My stuff arrived today.”

“Good. Settle in and make yourself at home. Do you want to have breakfast in my office in the morning? You could come the same time as today and I’ll have everything ready.”

“Sneaky breakfast, I like it.” I grin and sigh happily. I missed her. “You don’t mind going in that early?”

“Pshaw, no. I usually show up that early every day. This will be a much better start to my day.”

I bite my lip to keep from asking her why she shows up to work before seven in the morning every day, because I already know.

Lance.

I wish she’d talk about it, but I know she won’t. Maybe one night I’ll ply her with a bottle of wine and get her to unload on me.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

“It’s a date. ‘Night.”

“’Night,” I reply and end the call, then order in pizza and put the bottle of wine I bought on my way home from work into the fridge on my way to the bathroom for a long, cool shower.

It’s bloody hot outside.
 

I need to start dressing in layers for work, with something light under my jackets, so I’m not so damn hot by the time I get home.
 

The shower is cool and rejuvenates me. Just when I’m pulling on my shorts and a tank top, the doorbell rings.

Thank God, I’m starving.

I carry the pizza to the kitchen, grabbing my iPad on the way, pour myself a glass of wine, then decide screw it and tuck the whole bottle under my arm and walk through my bedroom to the balcony. There is a small wrought iron table with two comfortable, plush chairs out here, and I settle in to watch the sun set and the people wander through the Quarter on their way home from work or walking their dogs, tourists wandering.

It’s like a moving painting, never the same, but familiar. The person who owns the herb shop below me must have got some fresh lavender in today, because the smell is brighter and lovelier than yesterday.

I prop my feet up on the unused chair and nibble on a slice of pizza and sip my wine, perfectly content to stay right here until bedtime.

“Did you get my flowers?”

I turn my head to the left, and there is my neighbor, Eli, sitting in a similar chair, only about ten feet away. And, instantly, I’m pulled toward him in the most elemental way possible.

Which is ridiculous. He’s only a man.

“I didn’t hear you come outside,” I reply.

“You were too busy munching on that pizza and looked about a million miles away.” He props his feet up, laces his fingers behind his head, and flashes me a smile that I feel all the way to my core.

Does he have to be this handsome? Seriously?

I take a sip of my wine, finishing the glass, and refill it.

“Have you had dinner?” I ask.

“No, ma’am.”

“Here.” I pass the pizza box over the ornate railing that separates our balconies. “I have lots of food.” Then I fill my glass and pass him the bottle of wine as well. “But only one glass.”

He stands and disappears into his house, then quickly returns with his own glass and flashes me that heart-stopping smile as he reclaims his seat and takes a big bite of pizza.
 

“This is good.”

“Hilary said they were the best in the neighborhood,” I inform him.

“Who’s Hilary?” He frowns in confusion, making me grin.

“The woman whose position I took. She trained me today.”

“So, it went well then?” His gaze is sober, and if I’m not mistaken, concerned, making me soften toward him even more.

“It did. No problems.”

“Good.” He chews on his crust and tilts his head at me. “Did you get my flowers?”

I nod slowly. “Why did you send them?”

He opens his mouth to answer, and then chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m not sure. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

“Because you kissed me?”

His smile fades as he watches me over the railing, and I know that the replay of yesterday is running through his head just like it is mine. “No.”

“Did you kiss me because Van told you not to?”

He narrows his eyes in temper, his jaw ticking, and then simply says, “No.”

“Why?”

“The kiss or the flowers?”

“The flowers.” I can figure out the kiss on my own. It’s called chemistry, and we’ve got it in spades.

He frowns and looks into his wine glass. “I don’t know.”

“That’s…not helpful.” I chuckle and offer him another slice of pizza, which he declines with a shake of the head.
 

“Honestly?”

“Well, I don’t want you to lie to me.”

“I’ve been asking myself why all day. And the only thing I can come up with is, I like you, and I wanted you to have a good day.”

I sit and stare at him and realize that he’s telling me the honest truth, and that he might be as confused by it as I am.

Huh.

“Well, they’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He grins, as if he’s thinking of an inside joke, and I can’t help but smile back.

“What are you thinking?”

“The sunflowers reminded me of you.”

“Big and yellow?”

“Happy. You have a great smile.”

I exhale loudly and watch him carefully. “You confuse me.”

“We’re on the same page there.”

“You said this is a bad idea, and you’re right. Bad idea is tattooed all over it with huge neon letters.”

He nods. “I know. So, for tonight, I’m going to stay over here and you’re going to stay over there, and we’re just going to enjoy the evening and this wine.”

I watch as he raises a brow and waits for my response.

“When was the last time you sat out on the balcony to watch the sunset?” I ask.

“I haven’t been home before the sunset in years,” he replies honestly.

“Why tonight?”

He shakes his head again and watches a man jog by with a huge black lab on a leash. “I couldn’t say.”

I want to ask him if he
can’t
or
won’t
, but instead, I just nod and leave it be for tonight. “It’s a good evening for sitting outside,” I say instead.

“That it is.”

Chapter Five

It’s been a hell of a week.

By Friday night, I’m exhausted. Administrative assistants work their asses off. Not that I didn’t already know this; I’ve just never personally worked as one, regardless of what my resume on file in Linda’s office says. I’m ready to take a cool shower and curl up with a good book and a glass of wine.

I make it through the shower and change into sweat shorts and a tank, just as my doorbell rings.

I frown, tempted to ignore it, but when the bell rings for the third time, and then a fist pounds on the wood with a loud, “We know you’re in there!” I walk over and swing open the door.

“Did I forget that we were having dinner?” I ask and watch with a wry grin as Savannah and Declan both push their way inside, stopping to kiss my cheek as they pass, their hands and arms loaded down with bags of food.

“We decided to surprise you.” Declan sets down his bags and pulls me in for a big hug. “We’re gonna sit around and eat fattening food and drink wine. Well, I have to leave after dinner for tonight’s gig, but I’m still having a little wine.”

“Just like the old days,” Savannah adds with a grin. My cheek is pressed to Dec’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, as he rubs his hands up and down my back. I didn’t realize how badly I needed a hug until this very minute.

“You okay?” he asks and plants his lips on my head.

“Yeah.” I don’t pull away, and instead watch Savannah as she pulls white Styrofoam containers out of plastic bags, laying the food out buffet style on my table. She has dark circles under her tired hazel eyes, and she looks way too thin in her jeans and plain black T-shirt.
 

“You survived your first week,” Van says, as she opens a bottle of wine and pours it into three glasses.
 

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” I ask with a laugh, as I pull away from Dec and accept a glass.

“No, I just figured we’d use that as an excuse to celebrate,” she replies with a wink. “I brought your favorite: Italian. With fattening Alfredo sauce and lots of extra bread.”

“You do love me.” I offer Van a wide smile and snatch the bread first. “God, I love carbs. Why do I love carbs so much?”

“Because they’re bad for you,” Van replies. “They’re every woman’s kryptonite.”

“I thought that was shoes,” Declan says, as he piles his own plate high with pasta, sauce, and bread.

“No, shoes are a necessity,” I inform him soberly. “Like water.”

“Women are weird,” Dec says with a laugh, and makes himself at home on the floor, his back leaning against my sofa. His long, lean body is relaxed as he eats his dinner, and he reminds me of his older brother. Dec’s just as tall and broad in the shoulders as Eli.