Before I could make an attempt to fix whatever the hell I just did, the sound of a ringing phone nearby had her reaching into the brown bag on the counter. I watched as she held the black encased phone up to her ear.
“This is Charlotte Carter.”
Charlotte! That was her name!
“Yes,” she was saying. “I see, yes, of course. Tomorrow is just fine…”
She kept talking, but I stopped listening as my gaze wandered down her body and to her legs again. Her toes were painted red.
It was sexy.
She sighed and pulled the phone away from her, setting it on the counter.
“Everything okay?” I asked, forcing my gaze up.
“The client had to reschedule for tomorrow.”
“So you get to play hooky?”
She got this funny look on her face and she glanced at me. Then she said, “I suppose so.”
“We can have dinner, then,” I said. I hadn’t planned on dinner with her. I planned on spending as little time as possible with her.
But that was before she tackled me, half naked, and calmed me with a single look from her golden lash-lined eyes.
Besides, I could use this dinner as an investigation of sorts. This woman—Charlotte—lived with my brother. Maybe I could learn things that would help me nail the fucktards who murdered my twin. Maybe she knew where the flash drive was.
“Dinner?” she asked. The way she said it made me think this suggestion was a surprise. Did my brother never take her out to eat?
I shrugged. “I’m off. You’re off. I’m starving. You’re thin. You could use a meal. Let’s eat together.”
Judging by the look on her face, I went and said something un-Max-like again. Damn, being someone else was hard.
“You think I’m too thin?”
Well, shit. Not only did I say something out of character, but I committed the cardinal sin that every man knew to never commit. I commented on a woman’s weight.
I decided to blame it on the twilight zone atmosphere of this tiny apartment.
I sighed heavily. “I don’t think you’re too thin. I think you’re gorgeous. Go get dressed so we can go.”
Her face softened and she smiled. “Okay.”
Well, that was easy.
Before going off to find some pants—Please, God, let her cover up those legs—she tilted her head to the side. “Aren’t you going to change?”
Right.
It was time to trade my leather jacket for something far less comfortable. “Of course.” I followed along behind her, toward the bedroom, which was just off the living room.
My cock was twitching again because I was envisioning both of us in the bedroom getting dressed…
Charlotte didn’t go into the bedroom, instead veering back into the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she called as she closed the door behind her.
My shoulders sagged in relief as I stepped into the bedroom. I couldn’t help but look at the bed, the very large bed that dominated the room.
I pictured Charlotte’s long, bare legs and peek-a-boo chest. I was supposed to share a bed with that and not touch it. I’d never shared a bed with a woman I didn’t plan on touching.
It was going to be a very long night.
8
Charlotte
I leaned against the bathroom door, pressing a hand against my chest as if the movement would somehow calm my racing heart. The rapid rhythm against my palm only served to remind me how worked up I was.
When had my life become so crazy that when faced with a noise in the other room, I immediately thought it was an intruder instead of the other person who actually lived here?
I pushed away from the door and stepped in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes bright. My hair looked like someone took an egg beater and twirled it around on my head on the highest speed it could go.
Get control of yourself, Charlotte! I demanded of myself. It wasn’t an intruder.
So why had my body reacted with such surprise when I saw Max? It was almost as if my brain hadn’t recognized him right away. I had been about to clobber him with my hairbrush. He likely thought I was insane because I’d never acted so impulsively in the year we’d been together.
Last night freaked me out more than I realized. It altered the way I reacted to situations. It made me feel less in control. It made me feel more vulnerable. It seemed silly that an “almost” kidnapping could have such an effect on me. I was mildly embarrassed. I mean, I practically attacked poor Max.
He didn’t seem to mind… a voice whispered in the back of my mind.
The flush already in my cheeks deepened and I glanced around the room as if to make sure no one was watching me. I felt as if I’d been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing. A little thrill coursed through my body. Judging from the solid length I felt against my thigh earlier, Max definitely hadn’t minded my attack. His reaction surprised me. I’d never thought he was the kind of guy to get so turned on so fast.
He seemed different tonight, starting with the way he looked. The shorter hairstyle defined his jaw, making it look more square, his features more angular. It also looked like he hadn’t shaved that morning, which was very unlike him.
And then there were his clothes. The outfit was definitely borrowed because Max didn’t dress that way; he was a suit and tie kind of guy. But tonight worn-out blue jeans hung low on his hips, loose and relaxed. The jeans he usually wore were dark, crisp, and fitted. The leather jacket was also worn looking and hugged his upper body like it might be a little too snug, but instead of making the jacket look too small, it made him appear broad and built.
And his grip… dear God, his grip. The way he palmed my waist and lifted me off him like I weighed nothing at all had been… Well, it had been sexy. Max never manhandled me in any way. He was also so respectful, so careful of me, like I might break. Those were things about him I always thought were sweet and gentlemanly. But tonight, he hadn’t been sweet.
I liked it.
Clearly, last night’s events affected me way more than I realized. Aside from becoming a paranoid overreactor I had also become… Well, I wasn’t sure. But if I kept standing here scrutinizing everything I felt, I was never going to be ready for dinner.
For the first time in a long time I felt a little giddy rush at the thought of a dinner date. I no longer wanted to curl up with a movie in a pair of pj’s. The thought of going out to dinner with Max was exciting. It wasn’t as if it was the first time we’d gone out, but tonight felt different.