Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (2 page)

“You’re right.” She gives a helpless shrug. “He doesn’t deserve me, but I’m still committed. That’s just the way I am.”

“You are too good for him!”

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

Dieter grumbles as he pays the bill, and the two of them head out of the restaurant toward her studio a few blocks away. He insists on walking her home and Lindsay decides to let him, hoping he’ll calm down with all this marriage talk.

Her studio is in a colorful building that dominates the block and contains artists’ work spaces which double as apartments. Because she sculpts, her studio is a larger unit on the first floor. Each artist gets a space to live and work in, though they have to share a bathroom, as there are only two per floor. For Lindsay, it’s been the only real drawback. Two bathrooms between ten people is like some kind of endurance test.

“Lindsay!”

She turns her head to the sound of a male voice calling her name as they arrive at her building.

Hellooo, what have we here?

A big blond mountain of guy is walking down the sidewalk toward her.

Now there’s some peaks I’d like to climb
.

She can’t pull her eyes away. With all these desperate boys clamoring for her attention, something tells her she’s finally looking at a man.

Nice
.

But as he gets closer, she realizes something else. He looks familiar. Biblical sense kind of familiar.

Shit
.

“Giovanni?”

The mountain grins. “Lindsay, I’ve been trying to reach you all evening.”

“What are you doing here?”

Before Giovanni can answer, Dieter suddenly steps in front of her. “Who is this? Another boyfriend?”

Lindsay opens her mouth, not sure what to say. Giovanni isn’t her boyfriend, but he’s not exactly a friend either.

“
Arschloch
!” Dieter starts cursing at him in a mixture of German and English. “Bastard, you don’t deserve her!”

Giovanni holds his hands up. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but you need to calm down.”

“Do not tell me to calm down!”

“This is not my boyfriend,” Lindsay tells Dieter, who ignores her, continuing with his German tirade. She turns to Giovanni. “I don’t know why you’re here, but just leave, okay? This isn’t going to end well.”

Unfortunately, Giovanni’s ignoring her too. “You’ve got it all wrong,” he says to Dieter. “I’m only here to talk to Lindsay.”

“I know what you want, but you can forget it. I won’t let you have her!”

“That’s ridiculous!” Lindsay raises her voice.

Dieter shakes his head and turns to her, eyes blazing. “You do not have to protect him. I do what I have to. I want to win you as mine!”

“
What
? That’s stupid. He’s nobody to me!”

Dieter doesn’t reply and before she can stop him, he shoves Giovanni.

Giovanni is pushed backward, but quickly rights himself, his expression thunderous. “Listen, you bastard. Unless you want to eat this goddamn cement, I suggest you back off.”

“
Fick dich
!” Dieter spits out.

“Walk away, Giovanni,” Lindsay begs. “Please, just do it now!”

He looks at her like she’s crazy. “Who is this asshole?”

But before Lindsay can answer, Dieter takes a swing at him.

Giovanni ducks but Lindsay can see he’s ready to battle. The next thing she knows, Dieter has thrown himself at Giovanni and the two men are grappling, both of them cursing.

She watches with panic, desperately searching around for some kind of help. It’s late and there aren’t many people out. A couple walks past on the sidewalk, but they seem more amused than alarmed by the two men wrestling with each other like schoolboys.

Lindsay wishes she had a garden hose and could spray cold water on them both.

“Break it up, you idiots!” she yells, but neither of them listens to her. “I don’t want
either
of you! Do you understand?”

Giovanni is bigger than Dieter and seems to be gaining the upper hand, but then Dieter shoves his head into Giovanni’s shoulder, throwing him off balance. Giovanni corrects himself and the men are back to grappling again.

Lindsay continues to watch for a few seconds before pulling her phone out to check the time. It’s almost nine thirty.

She sighs with annoyance.

The men are still wrestling. Giovanni has Dieter in a headlock, though Dieter manages to squirm out of it.

This is ridiculous
.

She stifles a yawn.

Finally, she decides to go upstairs and take a nap.

To be honest, this isn’t the first time two guys have fought over her.

And it won’t be the last
.

There’s a sharp knock on the front door.

Lindsay opens her eyes and lets out a huff.
What now
? She was finally drifting off to sleep, trying to get a short nap in before she goes out later. She decides to ignore whoever it is by burying herself deeper under the covers.

The sharp knock turns into a pounding.

“Open this door, Lindsay!” A guy’s voice comes through from the hallway outside her studio.

Dammit.

Annoyed, she flings back her duvet and reaches over to turn on her bedside lamp. She’s only wearing panties and a T-shirt but doesn’t bother covering up with a robe. When she swings open her front door, it’s no surprise who she finds on the other side.

Giovanni.

It figures.

“What do you want?”

He walks right past her. “I need a glass of ice, a clean dish towel, and vodka.” He glances around for a moment then heads straight toward her small kitchen.

She closes the door, but doesn’t make a move to follow. “You should have taken my advice and left. There was no reason for you to fight him.”

He’s over by the kitchen sink. She watches him turn on the tap, test the water, and then put his hand beneath it. “I presume you heard me,” he says.

“Glass of ice, clean dishtowel, and vodka?”

“That’s correct.” He’s still holding his hand beneath the running water but looks over at her.

She’s leaning against the front door. Pushing away from it, she walks toward him. His eyes take her in, drifting over the T-shirt that barely reaches the top of her thighs then down to her bare legs.

Lindsay decides to be nice and grab the items he requested. First the dishtowel from a drawer, then she pulls a bottle of vodka out of the freezer along with an ice cube tray. She fills a short glass with ice.

By now, he’s turned off the tap and has dumped ice into the dishtowel, carefully wrapping it around the knuckles of his hand. His scent drifts toward her—clean male sweat with a hint of adrenaline. It’s delicious and she lingers for a moment to get another whiff.

Giovanni is her brother-in-law. The one she accidentally slept with.

Oops
.

Instead of putting the vodka on his hand, he takes everything over to her small kitchen table and sits down, pouring a splash of it into the glass.

Her older sister Natalie married his younger brother Anthony about a year and a half ago. In fact, they just had a baby, a cute little boy named Luca. Unfortunately, before all that happened, Lindsay had a one-night stand with Giovanni—not that she’s seen him since. He’s a pediatric surgeon who works somewhere in Africa. That’s basically all she knows about him. He was supposed to be Anthony’s best man at the wedding, but had some complicated reason why he couldn’t make it.

What kind of asshole misses his only brother’s wedding
?

He tosses back the shot of vodka and pours himself another. He doesn’t drink it though, but studies her instead. “I can’t believe you went to bed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you usually go to sleep when there are two men outside fighting over you?”

“Oh,
that
.” She shrugs, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter. “I’ve learned you guys will fight whether I’m there or not. It makes no difference.”

“After I punched him, he told me he has plans to marry you. Is that true?”

“Yes, Dietmar . . . um . . . Dieter, proposed earlier this evening.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t even know his
name
?”

“Of course I know his name. It’s Dieter.” She bites her lip. “I’m pretty sure, anyway.”

“When is the wedding?”

“There won’t be a wedding. I’m not really the marriage type.”

“It figures.” He takes the ice off his hand, which appears red and slightly swollen. “You’re like catnip for men. I knew it the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

“
Catnip
?” Lindsay scoffs, tossing her long brown curls over her shoulder. “Try one hundred proof whiskey, motherfucker.”

Giovanni chuckles a little as he examines his hand, bending his fingers, testing each one. “A siren singing her seductive song. The last thing sailors hear before they crash against the rocks.”

She frowns to herself. The comparison isn’t exactly flattering. She watches him move his hand. “Is anything broken?”

“No, I don’t believe there’s any real damage.”

It occurs to her that he’s a surgeon and his hands are probably important to him. “At least it’s your left hand.”

His blue eyes flash to her. “I’m left-handed.”

“Really? Well, that was seriously stupid. Why didn’t you punch him with your right?”

“I forgot.” He seems annoyed with himself. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to hit anyone.”

She can’t help but smirk. “Don’t forget next time.”

“Next time? Is that what it’s like to be with you? I’ll be forced to regularly punch other guys?”

“You’re not going to be with me.”

A smile plays around the corners of his mouth like he knows something she doesn’t.

Arrogant ass.

“What are you even doing here?” She walks over, slides into the chair opposite him, and reaches for his glass. Taking a swallow, the vodka is strong and bracing.

“I happened to be in Berlin, and Anthony mentioned you were here, so I thought I’d drop by.”

“Why? We barely even know each other.”

“We know each other.”

“Ah, I see.” She puts the glass down. “Just because you fucked me once you think you know me.”

His eyes are steady on hers. “I’d say I knew you before I fucked you.”

Lindsay holds his gaze. There’s some truth in his words. Even though they’d never met before, she thought they connected that night. That there was a spark of something honest between them. But then she woke up alone in a hotel room. She’d had the occasional one-night stand before, but had certainly never woken up alone.

“So you decided to come by for a second helping?” She leans back in her chair and gives him a pitying look. “If only you’d been better in bed, I might be tempted.”

Instead of being insulted, he considers her with amusement. “You really are catnip, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. And I’m doing you a favor by sending you away. Trust me.”

“I didn’t come here to sleep with you again.”

“Well,
that’s
a huge relief. Then what do you want?”

He smirks. “Are you always this hostile to the battle’s victor? It sounds to me like you should be grateful I got rid of that guy for you.”

She doesn’t reply. Instead, she stands up and saunters over to the cabinet to get down a glass for some water, conscious of the way his eyes stay on her body. She doesn’t mind. In fact, she makes a point to stretch up for a glass on a high shelf so he can get a nice, long look at the body he’ll never touch again.