Page 62 of Flirting with the Rock Star Next Door
“Hey, which do you like better?” she asked, showing me a picture of a book cover on the tablet. After a moment, she flipped to another image. The model was the same, but the lettering was different. One had a swirly font in hot pink and baby blue, and the other had a blockier one in red and white.
“Is that your cover?”
She nodded. “I didn’t get to finalize it earlier because my cover artist was sick.”
“I like the pink and blue.” My sister would like that one, and Emily was selling to women.
“Really?” Her eyebrows went up. “Not the block font?”
“Women like pink.”
“Hmm. True.” She looked at the pink and blue version again. “You’re probably right.” She grinned. “The model’s hot no matter what font you put around him.”
Was he? I wasn’t paying attention to the guy at all, but I should’ve known that would be Emily’s focus. “Lemme see that again.”
She gave me the tablet. Yeah, he was a handsome bastard. Smirking, his eyes on the potential reader. The suit worked for him, too. But I bet he didn’t look nearly as good out of his clothes. Most men didn’t, I decided, ignoring the small bit of acidic burn in my belly. “You like guys in suits?” The last time I’d put on a suit was Grandma’s funeral.
“Oh yeah. Nothing says billionaire like a man in a suit. And I like ’em pretty. Real pretty. As long as they’re pretty, they don’t have to be in suits.” She gave me a long, speculative look, opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, then cleared her throat. “So. When are they coming back to replace your defective heater?”
No way that was what she wanted to ask. And she didn’t have to sound so eager to get rid of me. I’d been a pretty decent hot-water borrower. “They weren’t sure. Next month, maybe?” It was the first thing that popped into my head. So I added in mumble, “Something like that.”
She dropped her jaw. “Next month? Who are they again? I’m going to blacklist them.”
Sorry, Billy. But I’ll leave a fair review on Yelp. Which actually wouldn’t be all that complimentary, especially given how uncaring and uninterested their phone person had been when I contacted them. “They weren’t very specific.”
“You didn’t pay them for the nonworking heater, did you?”
“Uh, no. Not yet.” Oh look: my nose seemed to have grown two inches. “I’ll pay them when they replace it.”
“Next month, geez. Are they mining the iron to make the heater with?”
“Probably.” I laughed as her eyebrows moved up and down in outrage. I didn’t think she was aware of the tic, and it reminded me of an angry marmot I’d seen on a documentary once.
“So, does this mean you’ll be coming over to use my shower for the foreseeable future?” she asked, a little too casually. And I swore there was something hopeful in her gaze. Whether she was just interested in my breakfast or the bare chest display, she wanted me to stick around.
That put me in a much better mood. “I doubt I’ll be for too long.” I used the same casual tone she had, trying to see how she’d react to what I was about to say. “If nothing else, I’ll be going to Dallas in June.”
She studied the three strips of bacon on her plate, then finally picked one. “For what?”
“That’s where our studio is.” Dallas was a good choice because Teri lived there. It gave Cole a chance to be with his fiancée as much as possible. “Gotta get back to work sometime.”
Emily looked up. Surprise crossed her eyes, even though her features were set in neutral line. “So you’ll be gone?”
“Yeah.” Then I casually added, “You going to miss me?”
I wanted her to say yes. I wanted her to realize maybe she liked me a lot more than she’d expected and decide to move our relationship further. Not limited to a kiss or ten minutes in bed, but much, much more.
She swallowed her water. “I’ll certainly miss your breakfasts.”
Disappointment tugged at me, hard. Then stung pride wrapped around me like armor. “I can teach you how to make it before I go.” It’d give us more time to spend together.
“No, thank you. I prefer that you cook.” She cleared her throat. “Besides, I don’t normally eat breakfast like this anyway. You’ve been spoiling me.” She focused her gaze on me. Her eyes were as clear as the pond on the outskirts of the town. They were the kind of eyes that could pull a man in and make him forget his own name.
“I like you, Emily.” The words tumbled down from my lips before I could regain my better judgment.
She inhaled sharply, the tip of one eyebrow tilting up. “Even when I take all the Bouncy Bare Monkeys and Hop Hop Hooray?”
“Even then.”
