I gave her a nod but didn’t offer my name. No point, especially since I didn’t want word getting back to whoever lived up there that the bar guy was helping with luggage like some overgrown bellhop. Still, the way she was grinning at me made it hard to stay grumpy.
I grabbed the handle and started hauling the suitcase up the stairs.
“Oh, you don’t have to…wait, seriously?” she said, trotting up after me. “Look at you. Grumpy and useful.”
“You say that like it’s rare.”
“Depends on the town,” she said, breathing halfway up. “Okay, I thought I was ready for a small-town getaway, but these stairs are giving me doubts.”
“Most people bring less luggage if they’re just here to ‘find themselves over a Saturday and Sunday.’”
“Trust me, I’m not the one doing the soul-searching.” She waved me toward the door. “I’m just helping a friend move in. Temporary adventure. You know how it goes.”
So not the new landlord,I noted. Just someone passing through, crashing with a friend.
I set the suitcase outside the apartment and stepped back.
“She in there?” I asked, nodding toward the kitchen.
“Yep. Unpacking and pretending she doesn’t have control issues. I told her to chill, but she gets a little Type-A when bubble wrap is involved.”
I smirked. “Sounds like a party.”
“Itwillbe. After I find the wine opener and the box with the glasses,”
She held the door open, watching me with that amused smile again. “Thanks for helping. I’d offer you a drink, but we haven’t unpacked the booze yet.”
“I’ve got access to better stock downstairs.”
“Ooh, mysterious and employed.”
“Mostly the first one.”
She laughed. “Well, thanks again, Mr. Mysterious. You saved me from being crushed by my suitcase. That’s a story I never want told at my funeral.”
“Glad to be of service.”
“Seriously,” she said, tilting her head. “You don’t look like someone who often does this kind of thing. But you did.”
“Yeah, well,” I muttered, backing down the stairs, “sometimes I surprise even myself.”
Her voice followed me as I descended, light and teasing. “Hope to bump into you again.”
I didn’t look back.
Didn’t need to.
Because she wasn’t my type.
Chapter Four
Lydia
“Okay, so I just met God’s gift to women,” Melanie announced, hands flying to her hips. “He even has a couple of tattoos.”
“Oh no. Your weakness.”
She laughed. “Well, maybe this weekend just got more interesting.”