Читать книгу Daring In The City - Jo Leigh - Страница 12

4

EVEN AFTER LUCA had disappeared, April just stood there, not sure she’d be able to move. The thought of going downstairs was more than she could bear. Not the thought of eating with Luca. Just making her way down there.

Instead, she returned to the Wes Abandonment Suite and stared at a spot on the floor. A pain in her shoulder knocked her out of her trance, which was a pity. For a while there, she’d had no thoughts, at least none she could remember. But somewhere in that void, she’d made a decision that surprised her.

She emptied more of her duffel bag until she got to her makeup and facial cleanser. She’d packed a couple of washcloths, mostly because she didn’t trust Wes to pick up anything but the cheapest crap.

If only she’d had the foresight to realize that was the least of her concerns.

She really had to let it go, for now at least. She took her things to the bathroom, which was so outdated it looked like something out of a 1950s movie. The toilet was in okay shape, just hard-water stained, as was the area around the sink’s drain. The shower looked reasonably clean and there was enough space on the boxy vanity-sink combo for her toiletries. Now all she needed was water.

Wetting her cloth, she put it over her face, concentrating on her puffy, red eyes. The end result, after applying the cool cloth four times, was that she looked as if she had a wicked cold. At least she didn’t appear to be on death’s door, so that was an improvement.

After brushing her hair, she dabbed a little blush on her cheeks then went to face her next big hurdle.

Luca was standing in the kitchen, a large pizza box balanced on an ugly Formica countertop. He looked up, immediately meeting her gaze, although she hadn’t made a sound. When she reached him, he got a beer out of the fridge.

After uncapping the bottle he handed it to her along with a paper towel.

“Thanks.” April managed a smile. Completely drained of energy, she felt so weird she couldn’t describe it. Nothing seemed real. Not even the long bus ride yesterday—or was that today?

God. Everything was a surreal blur.

“Sorry. No plates.”

“That’s fine,” she said and decided looking into his intense dark eyes was a bad idea. She turned to the shiny stainless-steel refrigerator that didn’t belong. At all. “Is that real?”

He followed her gaze, just stared for a moment, before looking at her. Even with a confused expression, he was still smoking hot. “Are we talking about the fridge?”

“Yeah, um... No.” Okay. Proof she should’ve stayed upstairs. “No, we aren’t,” she said, clearing her throat. “It just looks—” She took a big bite of her pizza to keep her mouth busy. Exhaustion combined with a really attractive guy was not a good mix. Had he been this gorgeous upstairs?

Luca was tall, at least a foot taller than she was, his hair dark brown and silky. He wore it on the long side, pushed back. With his Mediterranean skin tone and last name, she guessed his family was from an Italian coastal town. Naples, maybe? His eyes were dark, his brows full, his jaw strong...but the individual parts weren’t as impressive as the whole.

Shit, she was still staring at him.

“You mean the fridge looks too fancy for the Formica?” he asked.

“Yes?”

A faint smile tugged at his mouth.

She took a sip of beer. “So, this place is huge. I thought every apartment in New York was closet-sized.”

“A lot of them are. I think the place looks bigger since I took down two walls. It’s going to be a nice open space when it’s all finished.”

“Wow. A two-story apartment. Is that common here?”

“No. I lucked out. I’ll be turning half of the upstairs into a screened-in porch. The rest will be my master suite. The porch side is blocked off, so don’t go wandering around. It’s not safe.”

“I won’t. I’ll just stick to my little ol’ room. I should probably get a cooler or something, though,” she said, glancing around at the ladders and stacked drywall. “What did Jerkface use? Do you know?”

“Not my brand-new refrigerator.”

“I didn’t think so.” She studied the high-end appliance some more. “That sucker is big. You can’t have much in there.”

“What are you getting at?” Luca folded his arms across his chest.

A very nice chest to go with his broad shoulders. And muscular forearms. She met his gaze. “Oh, nothing. Just making an observation.”

“Right.”

“Obviously this is the kitchen,” she said, ignoring his skeptical tone. “What are you going to do with the rest of this area?”

“Dining room, living room.” He nodded at the wide space between them and the windows then gestured to the right, past the staircase. “Powder room and an office.”

“Holy cow. It’s going to be gorgeous. You’re doing all the work yourself?”

“No. I’ll have help, but I’ll be doing most of it. My family owns a construction company, so it’s pretty much what I do.”

April nodded. Yep, that explained the muscular arms. She glanced around, imagining what she’d do with so much space as she finished her slice of pizza, which tasted amazing even though it wasn’t that hot anymore. The beer went down great with it, too. “I hope it turns out exactly the way you imagine it will.”

He seemed surprised, but she meant it. If there was one thing she understood it was that shit happened, even if a person planned everything down to the tiniest detail.

“Another piece?”

“Oh, I’m not leaving this crust,” she said, feeling slightly buzzed. “I’d heard about New York pizza and wondered if it was just a lot of hype. But, wow. For a while there, I thought I was going to be hauled off to jail without ever having a slice. I would’ve been really pissed.”

His smile made her chest warm. For all the grief she’d given him, he was being very hospitable. She sure wished he had chairs, though. Her legs were feeling wobbly again.

Leaning against the island, she took in the old white porcelain sink, what was left of the Formica counter and the fridge. It was really something, not a brand she recognized. Too big for one person, unless that person wanted to share. “You don’t have a microwave.”

“I will eventually.”

“The microwave Wes bought is probably a cheapo but you’re welcome to use it.”

“Thanks,” he said and tipped the bottle to his mouth.

She watched him drain his beer, as fascinated by the working of his jaw and throat as by her sudden instinct to touch him. Dragging her gaze away, she took another hasty sip of her own beer and found the bottle was empty. That might be for the best. The point of her visit hadn’t been to get buzzed or to sponge food off her landlord. She’d just wanted to make nice. And maybe do a little negotiating. She needed him to let her stay just a little bit longer, until she got settled and recovered from the shock of this scary predicament.

“I just want you to know how much I appreciate this,” she said. “You’re being really nice about everything, and well, before I go I just...”

The way his eyes narrowed made her rethink her approach.

“I think I would like another slice.”

He set her up with seconds of both pizza and beer and grabbed another bottle for himself. As she bit into her slice, she walked over to the large window that looked out onto Mott Street. “Café Roma?” she said. “Is that a good place for Italian food?”

“Yeah. It is.”

She looked back at him. “Since I’m in Little Italy I want to try something I wouldn’t find in St. Louis.” She’d thought he might offer some suggestions, but he stayed quiet. “It’s a very busy street, but I’m not hearing any traffic.”

“Special windows.”

“Triple glazed?”

He nodded, and once again it appeared that she’d surprised him. “It won’t keep out sirens, but for regular traffic, it works great.”

She took another pull of her beer, which made her feel a tiny bit dizzy. Maybe this would go better if she sat down. Looking around, she saw a big wooden shipping crate, which, according to the label, was filled with wine, a stepstool that she could have perched on except it was awfully close to the floor and a stack of boards. None of the options appeared very stable, and she figured she probably shouldn’t overstay her welcome, anyway. Which meant she needed to get on with things.

“Could you be a bit more specific about exactly how long I’m allowed to stay?” she blurted.

Luca’s eyes closed for a second.

“I’m just asking because, well, today really doesn’t count, what with me getting here so late. It would have been impossible for me to look for housing tonight, so what do you say we count tomorrow as day one? That will give me more of a chance to do some research and make some calls. That is, if there’s a place nearby where they serve cheap coffee and have free Wi-Fi?”

“Wait a minute—”

“I mean, all that was supposed to have been done by Wes. He was in charge of finding a permanent place for us to live. I have no idea where he looked, or if he even looked at all. And yes, I know it’s not your problem but I don’t have anyone to call or to give me tips or even a couch to sleep on.”

“April—”

“I’m not trying to get anything more out of you, honest.”

His lips pressed together, but he didn’t tell her to take a flying leap.

“Unless, I can?”

His deepening scowl said she was pressing her luck.

“But, no. You’ve been so nice already, and I don’t want to take advantage of you. Although, there is just one more little thing... Since Wes had paid for the next five days there should be a small refund, right?”

“He didn’t.”

“What?”

“He left without paying for the last week he was supposed to stay here. Which is why I figured he was gone for good.”

She sagged. But she would mope later. Instead, stopping to consider that she was lucky, under the circumstances, she pulled out a commiserating smile. “I’m very sorry he did that to you,” she said. Then a very unpleasant thought occurred to her. “That means I owe you for the two days.”

Frowning, Luca set down his beer. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. So, let’s see... Two days would mean...” She rubbed her temple, trying hard to do the math. “I’m usually good with numbers. I guess I’m just too tired. Would you mind doing the calculation and letting me know what I owe?”

“Look, April—”

“I won’t stay for free.” Before she even realized something was wrong, she had to brace her hand on the wood cabinet to keep from falling over. The dizziness passed as quickly as it had come. She guessed hearing yet another bad thing about Wes had made her head spin.

“You all right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Luca cleared his throat, picked up a tarp that had been folded neatly on top of a tool chest and draped it over the case of wine. “Travel days are the worst,” he said. “Especially by Greyhound.” He gestured for her to sit down.

She stumbled a little before she planted her butt on the makeshift seat. “No, it was okay. The problem wasn’t the bus, it was the lack of sleep even before I boarded, then not hearing from the jackass, then the elevator situation, then me almost going to prison and now you wanting to throw me out.”

He coughed, and she realized what she’d said.

She blinked up at Luca, who was watching her with a hint of a smile and an arched right eyebrow. Instead of questioning that look, she yawned. A real jawbreaker. Which let loose a wave of exhaustion that hit her like a tidal wave. “I really should go get some sleep.”

“I agree. I don’t think the beer helped, either.”

“No, it probably didn’t. I’m not much of a drinker, and I rarely have beer, although this one was really good.”

“Look, even knowing I should have my head examined, I’m going to let you manipulate me into that extra day.”

“Thank you. That’s very nice.” April really needed to get upstairs. Her head kept getting fuzzier. “So, I’ll plan on leaving the morning after the second night. Not counting tonight.”

With another shake of his head, he said, “What is it you did in St. Louis?”

“Hmm? Oh, lots of jobs. During and after college I worked everything from construction to pet sitting to serving promotional drinks to drunk businessmen. That one was the most lucrative, although getting my ass pinched got old real quick.”

“So, you never worked in sales, huh? You know, you look as though you’re about to fade away. Why don’t you let me walk you to your room?”

She laughed. “It’s just upstairs.”

“The last thing we need is you falling and breaking something.”

“Not to mention suing you. I wouldn’t do that. Wes, on the other hand, would. Can you believe him? How could I not have realized he was an epic asshole? That’s very disturbing. I’m going to have to think about that one—” She yawned. “Just not tonight.”

Luca stood close, and looking up at him made the room spin. She took another sip of her beer, belatedly remembering it was ill-advised.

“Wait a minute. Don’t move,” he said. A moment later he was back, holding a bottle of water. Then he put a hand on her back and helped her stand. Which was very nice of him. So was his sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her against him.

He was so much bigger than Wes. Taller, stronger, more muscular. He smelled good, too. Masculine. She was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing any cologne, either, at least not the kind Wes stocked up on. “He liked to smell like the woods,” she said. “Wes, I mean. But he hated the woods. Hated camping. Made me take care of all the spiders.”

“Did he?”

As they got closer to the stairs she found herself leaning more heavily against Luca. “You’re nice, though. Thank you for this. For letting me stay. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.”

“I’m sure of it. Come on now, step up. We can do this.”

It took some concentration for her to climb up the staircase. Or maybe she was simply distracted by the man who was helping her. His body felt warm and solid. His arm tightening around her made her feel safe. So foolish. She didn’t know him. She just needed to get him to let her stay until she could find a job—heck, several jobs—so she could earn enough to find a place to live that wasn’t a cardboard box.

“No way I’m not going to start my own business,” she said as they made it to the second-floor landing. “No way that asshat’s going to stop me.”

“Good for you,” he said, walking her to the bedroom door. “Here, take this.” He handed her the water.

It took a moment for her to get a grip on it, as she was busy feeling bereft again. About Wes. About the loss of Luca’s arm around her waist. About the stupid mattress and wrinkled sheets. She looked up at him one more time, steadying herself with a hand on his very broad, hard chest. “I’ll pay you back, you know. For the pizza and beer. And water. For the next two nights. I pay my way,” she said. “No matter what.”

“Okay, we can talk about that tomorrow. For now, though, I think you should get some sleep, huh?”

She slid her palm off his chest and listed to the left. His arms came all the way around her, and she leaned gratefully against his chest, so tired and weak she didn’t know how she was going to make it to the mattress. When she fully realized what she was doing, she straightened away from him. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“It’s okay. You’re crashing from all that adrenaline from earlier.” He loosened his arms but didn’t pull away. “Take your time.”

“You’re a nice man, you know that?”

Luca smiled. “Yeah, I’m a real peach.”

“You are.” April smiled back at him as he turned her toward the room. “I’ll vouch for you.”

“You don’t know me. I could be a real scumbag.”

“No, you’re not,” she said as he gave her a gentle push forward. “I just know it.”

“You thought you knew Wes,” Luca reminded her.

Her stomach clenched, and she stumbled into the room and waited until he shut the door behind him before the tears fell.