Unable to keep from giggling wildly, she spun as he held her fingers in his. “You’re crazy!”
“You’re the one dancing out here in the rain!” He twirled her again and again before he spun her to face him, his eyes bright with mischief. “I have to say, Riki, this was fun.” He looked down at his wet clothes. “Hopefully not at the cost of my suit and your pretty pink shirt,” he added with a sheepish grin. “I guess we’d better go on in and get dry.”
“Yeah. Say hi to Embry,” she said softly.
He jogged toward his apartment as she staggered to hers, feeling positively drunk. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Guys like him should be banned from the planet. He must know his charm. It had to be obvious that women were rendered speechless around him.
She was supposed to be working on shutting off her feelings for him, and he was not helping. She forced herself to think of Embry. At this very moment, she was probably peeling the wet coat from Brandon’s body and warming him with a tight hug. She’d press her breasts into his chest, and that would be all it’d take. He’d lead her to the shower, where she’d soap him up, tracing a line of bubbles down his naked chest.
On second thought, they couldn’t do that. They had two kids to watch. Their sexy shower would have to wait until the kids were tucked safely in bed. By then they’d both be too tired to do anything but pull up the covers and pass out. As he drifted to sleep, would his subconscious mind toy with him, luring him to dream about the red-haired neighbor whose hand he’d taken in the rain?
She stood just inside the door and eyed the plate of cookies on the kitchen counter. If Embry could read her mind, she would hate her. And the truth was, Riki wouldn’t blame her.
Sylvia capped her lipstick and smiled at her reflection in the large rectangular mirror. In less than an hour, she would be frolicking with Hugh. The light in the office bathroom was cruel, but it couldn’t hide the fact that her teeth were simply perfect. She’d opted for braces six years ago. No one knew she’d once had the snaggletooth smile of a poor kid, and never again would she wear ratty hand-me-downs from that horrid neighbor girl with the slash of a smile that was entirely too large for her face, making her look like she was a descendant of Ernie from Sesame Street. New teeth and new clothes were an easy camouflage for her tattered past. She was the ruler of her queendom now.
Her lips were a vibrant coral. Mac Lady Danger, to be specific. It hadn’t always been her go-to, but after Hugh called her lips enchanting, she realized she’d found her new signature shade. Her eyes looked strikingly pale in contrast to her dark hair and bright lips. They really were her best feature. Would her future baby have her ice-blue eyes, or would they be smoky blue like Hugh’s? “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves,” she said aloud, still grinning.
The door swung open, and Sarah, her coworker, appeared. She darted her eyes from one sink to the next. “I could’ve sworn I heard someone talking in here.”
“Nope. It’s just me.”
Sarah frowned and dipped her head to peer beneath the stalls. It shouldn’t have bothered Sylvia, but it did. The woman always had to have her nose in everything. Including the toilets, apparently.
“Hmm.” She eyed Sylvia’s clothing. “You changed out of your work clothes. Fun plans tonight?”
Sylvia ran her fingers through her hair and turned to Sarah, who was clad in a musty-blue potato sack and brown clogs. Quintessential Dowdy Sarah, Sylvia thought. The woman dressed like she’d stolen clothing from a dead grandmother. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’ll be spending the weekend at my boyfriend’s place. How about you? Any big plans?”
She lifted her hands, palms facing upward, as if to say, Who knows?
Sylvia held back a smirk. Even Sarah’s body language was frumpy. If she put in a little effort, she wouldn’t look so drab.
“I might go over the Reebok proposal. It needs some fine-tuning,” Sarah said.
Oh, for God’s sake. Sylvia and Belinda had worked on the proposal for a good part of the week, and now Sarah was going to pretend she had something important to contribute? How very, very typical. By some degree of magic, Sarah had moved up in rank one month ago. It was truly a mystery how she had snatched the promotion. Everyone knew Sylvia had been the best candidate, and the way Sarah needled her with reminders that she was in charge now! was enough to make Sylvia want to poison the woman’s coffee. But she plastered on a sweet smile and faced her. “No need. Belinda and I have thoroughly combed through it.”
Sarah’s mouth dropped into a pout. “Well, I’m going to have a look. If I determine it needs something, I’ll go ahead and make the change.”
“You do that,” she said pedantically. “Be sure to tell Miriam it’s your work product. You wouldn’t want us to get credit for your dedication.” Or your shit work. She widened her smile. Kill her with kindness. That’s what she needed to do. Because otherwise, she would end up shoving her against the paper-towel dispenser and strangling her. On the upside, her job would be up for grabs. Something to ponder.
“Why are you looking at me that way? Do I have something in my teeth?”
“Not that I can see. My mind wandered for a minute. Anyway, have a lovely weekend.” She breezed from the bathroom, leaving behind an utterly bewildered Sarah.
Thirty minutes later, Sylvia strode down the hallway toward Hugh’s apartment. It was such a dark building—more like a dingy hotel than a home. But the inside of his apartment was white and bright and pristine. She had asked why he lived in an apartment when he could buy his own home. “I’m a minimalist,” he’d answered with a shrug. “Besides, a home is for a family and should be chosen by a husband and wife together, don’t you agree?”
The man made a solid point. She knocked and waited. How would he feel about a crib and a diaper-changing station? She closed her eyes and tried to picture it, but her mind strayed, only allowing the image of a toddler slapping a drippy red paintbrush across a favorite piece of art to play in sharp focus. Hugh wouldn’t like that.
Well, like he said, a home should be chosen together. They would find one that suited both their needs and the needs of their future family. They could find the perfect house with the white picket fence he’d mentioned.
She rapped on the door once again, this time with more force, but was met with silence. No footsteps sounded, alerting her that he’d appear in a second. Well, this was annoying.
She flipped to his last text even though she knew she hadn’t made a mistake. Five thirty was exactly what he’d written when he’d confirmed their plans that morning. It was 5:37 at the moment. Typing quickly, she wrote:
I’m here. Are you running late?
She skimmed her emails as she waited. A man dressed in running shorts and a T-shirt headed toward her. As he neared, she could see his hair was wet. So was his shirt. Good God. Who needed to exercise that hard?
“Got caught in the rain,” he said with an awkward grin as he tugged an earbud from his ear. “I guess I should’ve checked the weather.”
“I was literally outside just five minutes ago. It wasn’t raining,” Sylvia said, her brow raised.
“Yeah, I know. The clouds opened up. Freak storm. It felt like Hawaii out there.” He wore a satisfied expression, as though knowing what Hawaiian storms were like made him special and unique. “Are you new here? In the building, I mean,” he said, plowing a hand through his slick hair.