Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I’m a man who sticks to his word.
If I make a promise, you can bet everything you own that I will follow through with it.
That’s why I’m in the lobby of my building with a book in hand.
I don’t know what it’s about. I plucked it out of a shelf in the extra bedroom in my apartment two hours ago. Declan supplied the books and the shelf as a housewarming gift.
Leave it to my older brother to choose something that I have zero interest in.
I could have camped out here in the corner in this uncomfortable armchair with my phone or laptop, but even I need a break from business sometimes.
I anticipated that Calliope would be home by now. It’s nearing eleven. The last time she hung out with the tiny artist, she was back home by nine.
I look up when I hear the unmistakable scuff of Lester’s shoes against the polished marble floor as he heads toward the building’s entrance.
My patience pays off when he swings open the door, and utter perfection walks into the lobby wearing the same black blouse and light blue skirt she had on this morning.
Champ shoots the doorman a smile that could warm the coldest heart.
They exchange words that I’m too far away to hear, but it ends with her handing him a bill from her purse. From where I’m standing, it looks like a five.
Generosity is never about the size of the gift but the intention behind it.
She values people.
I’ve seen that both times we’ve shared dinner with our neighbors.
She leaves Lester with another smile before she sets off toward the elevator.
I stay in place, watching her graceful movements as her hair skips over her shoulders with each forward step. Her tits bounce within the confines of her bra beneath her blouse. Her hips sway.
She’s incredibly sensual, even like this after a full day of work and what I imagine to be a spirited evening with her niece.
My gaze trails her as she nears the elevator. Her ass is spectacular under her skirt. There are no remnants of a wayward art project tonight.
I approach her from behind with unhurried steps.
When I’m within two feet of her, she gazes over her shoulder.
The smile I get rivals the one she just gave Lester. “Hey, Saint.”
“Champ,” I say as I take a spot next to her. “How was your evening?”
“Any evening spent with my niece and nephew is always great.”
I barely register the fact that she confessed that she has a nephew as well as an artistic niece. I can’t focus on anything but the way her cheeks are slowly turning pink.
Her gaze drops to the book in my hand. “Did you just get home? Were you at book club?”
I laugh that off. “I have no fucking idea what that is, so no. I’ve been sitting in the lobby all night. I was waiting for you.”
Her blue eyes widen beneath her long dark lashes. “You were? Why?”
The elevator’s door slide open, so I motion for her to board it. “I wanted to walk you home.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Callie
Our conversation in the elevator consisted of the plot of the thriller in Sean’s hand. I’ve heard about the book, but until today, I hadn’t considered reading it.
I don’t know if my sudden interest in what some reviewers have labeled a ‘high-paced novel with twists and turns for the ages’ is based on my love of reading or if I’m trying to avoid a more intimate discussion with my neighbor.
As I rattled on about the potential spoilers I had read online about the book, Sean kept his gaze locked on my face.
I step off the elevator with my boss by my side.
His hand grazes my back as we start toward my apartment door.
What am I supposed to do now? Do I invite him in? Strip him down to his underwear? Is this where I get to fulfill all of my most recent fantasies?
“You’re blushing, Champ,” he points out.
Dammit.
I skim a hand over my left cheek. “I walked from the subway. I guess I got a bit overheated.”
His left brow cocks. “You weren’t blushing in the elevator.”
Of course he’d notice that.
I laugh it off. “It’s warm on our floor, isn’t it? Maybe we need to call maintenance.”
“Maybe you’re thinking about kissing me again.”
I drop my gaze to the floor. “Maybe I’m not.”
His fingers find my chin to lure it up until our eyes lock. “I’m thinking about kissing you again.”
My gaze trails over every inch of his handsome face before I stop to stare at his lips. “You are?”
“I’ve been thinking about it all day.”
I take a half-step back, hoping I’ll find my common sense there because every cell in my body is screaming at me to invite him into my apartment.
A smile coasts over his lips. “I had an ulterior motive for wanting to walk you home tonight.”