Page 10 of Just This Once

“If I wanted to feel like I was punched in the crotch, I would’ve just taken a spin class.”

I stifle my laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re funny,” I say, taking note of the staircase on the side of the house, leading up to a third floor. It wasn’t uncommon for houses built around the turn of the century to be multifamily. “This is nice.”

She leads the way up the walk to the set of three steps to her small porch, finding her keys in her purse. “Thanks.”

“You got an apartment on the top floor?”

“One of the few still left with it. Most people renovated to combine.”

I place my hand on the brick. On the sturdy foundation that so many new builds lack anymore. That’s why renos are my favorite. Keeping those old structures alive and well maintained, that’s what I enjoy most. “It’s smart to keep it for the extra cash flow. But I hope you vet your renters.”

She snorts at me. Because of course she does. “I have kids. I wouldnevernot.”

“How’s your roof situation?”

“Replaced right before I bought it,” she tells me, unlocking her door.

“And how long have you been here? Because the ductwork in homes like this sometimes?—”

“Did you come here to talk about my house or to fuck?”

Chapter 4

Taryn

Dante stares at me wide-eyed. As if he’s shocked I don’t want to beat around the bush when he’d been clear with his intentions all night.

At some point, maybe around the time he took genuine interest in getting to know Marianne and reacquainting himself with Clara, talking about how she helped him out with school, making sure he passed all his classes, and he apologized for not staying in touch, I realized he was a good guy. In my experience, it wasn’t often a man apologized. Full stop. No excuse, just a simple, “I’m sorry for not doing better.”

Between that and his flirty smiles and wandering hands, he wore me down. As much as I wanted to convince myself I didn’t like the attention, I couldn’t. It felt too good to have a young and hot guy want me.

He is a dozen years younger than me, for God’s sake. I couldn’t ignore that if I tried.

But I did just get my hair and brows touched up yesterday, so I am feeling myself today. And it’s my birthday celebration. Don’t I deserve this? To have a few hours of fun. That’s highhopes, but I’m assuming his age and stamina will play in my favor.

Plus, the ride on the back of his motorcycle might have helped seal the deal. As terrifying as it was, the adrenaline rushing through my veins made sure I wouldn’t be able to go to sleep anytime soon.

And if he’s willing, so am I.

“Say it again,” he tells me, and I step inside my house, hearing the familiar prance of my dog’s paws upstairs.

“Did you come here to talk about my house or to fuck?”

He smiles, the same big grin that’s been growing on me all night. “I really would like to talk more about your house.AfterI fuck you.”

I’m not at all interested in giving him any more information about my house, but I let him inside anyway as Frankie happily plods down the steps and across the hardwood floor, skidding to a stop in front of me.

“Hey, baby,” I coo, kneeling down to scratch his ears.

Next to me, Dante bends and sticks his hand out. “Heya, buddy. What’s your name?”

“Frankie,” I answer, watching as my dog greets my guest with a lot less suspicion than I’d hope for. I adopted the black-and-white boxer with the idea of his being my alarm system, but if anyone ever tried to break in, he’d show them around the house, permitting them to steal whatever they wanted before he ever alerted me to their presence.

“Frankie. I like that.” Dante leans in to accept a few kisses on his jaw and cheek from my dog. “Yeah, you’re so sweet. Nice to meet you too.”

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