Delivered with a Kiss: Veteran Movers 4 Page 4

  Tilly slapped the tabletop. “Good for you. What a fuck-knuckle.”

  Erin had been taking a sip of water when Tilly let that slip. She choked it down, her eyes watering, and blinked at her employer. “Wh-what did you say?”

  “He’s a fuck-knuckle.” Tilly grinned. “I overheard Smith saying it the other day. I think it applies. What kind of man breaks a girl’s heart then doesn’t offer one apology for it?”

  “You know, I’ve gone over and over that conversation in my head. The one Cody and I had before I moved out here. And Tilly, I just don’t remember being anything but honest with him. I swear, I wasn’t sarcastic when I said I was moving out here. I was nothing but sincere.”

  “I believe you. You’re a little too wide-eyed-innocent to be lying.”

  Erin frowned. “Is that a compliment?”

  “Well, honey, let’s face it. You’re no slammin’ seductress. You’re pretty in a wholesome way. A good girl kind of way.”

  “Do you think that’s why he got another girlfriend? Because he wanted a slammin’ seductress?” Had Cody been upset because she wasn’t sexy enough? The few times they’d made love, she’d thought it meant something. He’d been so nice and tender. And, well, a little on the boring side. She’d wanted hotter, naughtier sex, and more frequent sex at that. But she’d kept that to herself, because as Grandma Freddy always said, a lady was only a lady if she acted as such at all times. And no one wanted to be the town slut.

  Yeah, Grandma Freddy had been full of advice, but at least she’d been honest, someone Erin could talk to. Erin had tried to show Cody she cared. They’d dated for well over a year and exchanged the L-word before ever becoming intimate. She’d done her best to be a woman with a sterling reputation who respected him enough to take his lead in bedroom matters.

  Who knew Cody had been getting his freak on with the blond lady in the SUV? Just thinking about how smug the other woman had been, how disgusted Cody had seemed that Erin might want to live with him, made her want to hit something. Then cry all over again.

  “You stop that right now.” Tilly smacked Erin’s foot with her cane.

  “Ow.” Erin glared and rubbed her foot.

  “Good. You be mad, not sad. That fool doesn’t deserve one more tear.” Tilly shoved a forkful of pot pie in her mouth and with her mouth full said, “Did you ever cook for him?”

  “All the time when he came to visit. I told you we met when I was taking care of my sister in Pennsylvania.” Back when Joy had been recovering from breast cancer, Erin had stayed with her, Tim, and their two children for six months. She’d cooked, cleaned, and carted her niece and nephew around while Joy went to chemo and Tim did his best to provide for his family.

  Erin had loved being needed, included in their tight-knit clan. She adored her niece and nephew and still missed them.

  “Technically, you can blame your sister for meeting Cody. She owes you.”

  “No, Tilly. She doesn’t.” Erin let out an exasperated sigh. “As I told you before, Cody is no one’s fault but mine.”

  “Good, you remember that.” Tilly pointed her cane at Erin, then put it against the wall to dig into her food once more. “Girl, you’re a wizard in the kitchen. You’ll have no problem finding a man worth keeping if you take it nice and slow. Don’t feed him any cookies until the third date at least, and don’t give him a piece of your honey pie, if you know what I mean, until you know him well enough not to blush when he takes off your bra. That always worked for me.”

  “Honey pie? What… Oh!” It was like Grandma Freddy lived and breathed in Tilly. “Geez.” The woman had no filter. No one but Erin’s grandmother had ever been so frank with her. Heck, Erin’s mom couldn’t even say S-E-X without either spelling it or blushing fire-engine red. Not that they discussed more than recipes or family when Erin called home. Erin had learned about the birds and the bees from her grandmother and books. Period.

  “Your problem is you’ve been sheltered,” Tilly said, as if reading her mind. “You need to live a little. Have some fun with a real man, but don’t feel the need to jump into bed or anything. I mean, you should if you want to. I’m all for sexual freedom. But that just doesn’t seem like your style.”

  “Uh, no. It’s not.” God. Erin could feel her cheeks overheating. “More water?”

  “Water? Oh, sure.”

  Erin escaped from the table and took a moment to gather her composure. When she felt reasonably settled, she returned to find Tilly’s empty plate. She handed Tilly the water then sat to share the rest of the meal.

  “What about Smith?”

  Erin blinked. “What?”

  “Smith Ramsey. My handyman. What do you think of him?”

  Erin did her best not to blush. “He’s nice. He helped me move and didn’t make fun of me when I looked stupid with Cody.”

  Tilly nodded. “That’s my boy. Smith is a good man. He’s a bit crass and obnoxious on occasion, but he’s kind at heart. And he can fix about anything.” Tilly gave her a knowing onceover Erin wanted to ignore but couldn’t.

  “What?”

  “He could help you get over Cody.”

  “Really? Because I can’t even get a hello out of him,” she said, annoyed now that she thought about it. Then realizing Tilly might take that comment out of context, she explained, “I’ve tried to say hello when we pass each other in the hall, but he runs away or ignores me. I think he grunted at me once. And when I tried to bake him cookies as a thank you—not flirting, just as a thank you—I couldn’t find him to give them to him. Either he was out for two days or he ignored me knocking at the door.”

  Tilly cackled. “That boy. You know, I don’t think he’s ever brought a woman home in the whole time he’s lived here. And my single lady tenants haven’t gotten anywhere with him, though I’ve seen him wave and be polite when occasion demands it.”

  “Maybe he’s gay.” And wouldn’t that be a crime for single women everywhere.

  “Could be. Though he sure seemed to like the look of Jill and Mallory Keen in their bikinis a few months ago at our summer picnic.”

  Erin frowned.

  “You know, that married lesbian couple in 5A? The real pretty ladies who strut around in shorts and yoga pants all the time?”

  Ah, the personal trainer couple down the hall. If so, she couldn’t fault Smith his taste. They were beautiful and fit and made Erin feel like an out of shape frump.

  Tilly continued, “Funny thing about Smith. He can be a right asshole to the men around here, but he’s always polite to the ladies. Well, to everyone but you, apparently. Interesting.” The calculating expression that crossed her face gave Erin the shivers.

  “Tilly, no. I don’t want any help with my social life. I’ve got enough to do for you and my job.”

  “Writing about nuts?”

  “Editing about nuts. And crops and agriculture.” The agricultural magazines she edited for didn’t appeal to her creative side, but they paid well enough that she didn’t starve.

  “Magazines are dying.” Tilly shook her head. “It’s all about cell phones and computers anymore. Sadly. Bah. I don’t know how you can afford to live anywhere editing for no-name magazines.”

  Thanks for that, Tilly. “It’s not a bad way to make money, you know.” And it allowed Erin to live anywhere so long as she had access to the Internet.

  “Get me a cup of tea and we’ll call lunch quits. And don’t forget, you’re coming for dinner tonight.”

  Which meant the conversation had ended. Thank God.

  “I’m looking forward to it.” She prayed Tilly would drop the whole matchmaking with Smith idea. Erin had enough problems trying not to think about her sexy, taciturn neighbor. She hadn’t been enough to hold Cody’s interest. What made her think she could nab Smith’s? If she’d been in the market for a man, which she so wasn’t.

  After fixing Tilly a pot of her favorite jasmine green tea, Erin poured her a cup then left the pot for her on her side table, next to the recli
ner which faced her television. Tilly had an addiction to daytime TV.

  Erin would have liked to have so much downtime, but in order to make ends meet, she had to get busy. She went home, ignored the depressing sight of her nearly-empty apartment, and went to work on the laptop she’d propped on the $20 table purchased at a garage sale the past weekend.

  She now had a table and two chairs, an uncomfortable, inflatable single bed, and a beautiful cherry antique armoire and matching dresser she’d brought from home. She had no television, but she didn’t need one with a laptop. And she had a cheap set of cookware, dishes and cups, and silverware she’d acquired from Walmart, so she could at least cook and eat.

  “I have my health, two great jobs, and a place to live. What more could I want?” she asked herself in her empty apartment covered in tacky mango-orange painted walls. The vinyl floor passed as functional, if not pretty. No one would ever mistake the fake-wood flooring for real hardwood.

  The kitchen, while not large, had a decent gas stove, microwave, and small refrigerator. A wall of counters gave her enough space to prepare food for one, but she needed a small island or butcher block to give her more room to prepare. Ideally, she might be able to use Tilly’s kitchen to continue her home cooking show. That’s once she made herself indispensable to the woman and bribed her with treats.

  Erin stopped dithering and buckled down to work. She edited four articles, posted on two magazine blogs, and checked over a few agricultural social media sites.

  But her dream job lay just out of reach, sharing her recipes on a profitable home-baking vlog. Back in Colby, she’d had a weekly series that had garnered her thousands of followers, and she had to continue to serve up sweets. She’d accounted for her move to Seattle, promising to come off her hiatus as soon as she settled in.

  Since the move, she hadn’t filmed anything new, though she continued to answer questions and comments on her vlog. She was giving herself another two weeks of time off. After that, she’d have to start posting again, which created a whole new host of problems. But the added income from a few vendors on her site helped. And she needed the money now more than ever, living in Seattle.

  Heck, the other day she’d bought a bag of ground coffee for ten dollars! And that was apparently on the low end. She groaned, turned back to work, and didn’t look up until her timer went off at six.

  Fortunately, Tilly didn’t insist on eating supper at an early hour, like many of the seniors at home. Not home. Colby, Erin told herself. Seattle is my home now. She felt more grown-up living on her own, so far away from family. At twenty-five, she had no call to be tied to her parents. Even if she did sometimes feel so alone here.

  Erin stood with a sigh, stretched, and left her apartment to head down the hall to Tilly’s. Only to bump into Smith on her way. “Oh, sorry.”

  He didn’t move, though she rebounded a step back. He grunted at her and walked away.

  Erin had had enough. “Hey.” She grabbed his arm and froze him in his tracks. “Could you at least smile or say hello? I swear, I’m not asking for anything other than a polite greeting. It’s called being neighborly.”

  Smith turned around, and his presence had an impact, as usual. The man dwarfed her in size, but it was that aura of power that overwhelmed. Smith seemed to be burning with fettered rage just under the surface. She swore she could see it in his eyes before they crinkled, and he smiled at her.

  And that smile knocked her off her axis.

  Man, he was hot. Handsome, sexy, realllly good looking. Her mind kept going in circles, trying to provide a better description.

  “Sorry. Hello, Erin. How are you?”

  “Uh, um. Good. I’m good. How are you?”

  “Great. You all settled in?” He was speaking slowly, making eye contact, acting friendly.

  “Are you making fun of me?” She planted her hands on her hips, calling him on what sure the heck seemed like a patronizing attitude. After Cody, she was done playing nice just because a woman “should ignore rudeness and be kind because men don’t know any better.” Geez, were her mom and grandma wrong on so many counts.

  His grin widened. “Maybe.” He brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes as he studied her, and her heart did jumping jacks. “You are so little.”

  She fumed, angry and wanting to provoke a similar response. Not at all the way she normally behaved with people. Erin was nice. Usually quiet until she grew to know someone. Polite, well-mannered. “Look, buddy. I can’t help that God made me the perfect size, and that you’re too jealous to deal well. I have been trying to thank you for being nice when I needed it. I don’t care for your platitudes. Now excuse me while I have things to do. I won’t bother you again.”

  She moved to pass him when Smith grabbed her arm.

  She froze.

  He quickly let go. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m not great with people,” he rumbled.

  She saw him looking at her oddly. “What?”

  “I don’t know. You’re pretty.”

  She blinked, confused. “Thanks?”

  “I’ll say hello from now on, okay?”

  Her insides felt fluttery, and she couldn’t look away from his deep green eyes. Such beauty on a man so rugged. He had the thickest eyelashes, and when he smiled, his eyes seemed to shine. “Sure.”

  He nodded and moved aside, his hand outstretched to let her pass. She walked in front of him toward the end of the hall, expecting him to take the stairs. But he followed her to Tilly’s apartment at the end of the corridor.

  She glanced over her shoulder in suspicion as she knocked.

  “Come in,” Tilly yelled from behind the door.

  Erin pushed inside, but she couldn’t close the door because Smith followed her.

  She narrowed her gaze, and he grinned wider, stealing her ability to think.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello,” she repeated, waiting for an explanation to replace the smug look on his face. Instead, he bypassed her to Tilly.

  “Well?” Tilly snapped. “Get the grub going, Erin. And you, boy, give me the rundown. What’s going on with unit 6B? The truth.”

  He sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” He glanced over at Erin and rolled his eyes, which startled her into an involuntary grin.

  Not sure what to do with his sudden sense of humor, she turned on her heel and went straight to the kitchen, wondering what the heck to cook for herself and two people who ate like four.

  * * *

  Smith hadn’t realized Erin would be there when Tilly had invited him for dinner. A glance at Tilly’s table showed three table settings instead of two. He took a moment to think about how that made him feel and wasn’t surprised that the idea of spending time with his cute neighbor didn’t bother him at all.

  He’d been thinking about her all week, wondering how she was handling a ball-buster like Tilly. He liked the old woman, but hell, she was an acquired taste, and she knew it. Yet Tilly had apparently invited Erin to join them, and she hadn’t done that with any of her prior cooks.

  To be honest, he had gone out of his way to avoid Erin, torn between wanting to check on her and feeling a little too attached to Ms. Sweetness and Light. But she hadn’t seemed so nice earlier, riding his ass to be polite.

  He grinned.

  Tilly cleared her throat. “Ahem. Unit 6B?”

  He took a seat across from her, settling on her antique blue couch and taking up nearly the entire sofa. They sure made people smaller back in the day. Hell, only someone the size of Erin would consider this thing big enough for two. “The unit’s hot water is shot in the sinks and shower. I’m thinking it might have a control valve blocked or unplugged. I had to google that, by the way. I’m no expert, but I think the hot water heater might be the problem. You need to call in a plumber.”

  “Oh, hell, no.”

  “Look, I know you hate to part with a single penny, but you can afford it. And didn’t you tell me it’s been fifteen years since the heater was installed? Gas heaters normally only la
st ten to twelve years.”

  She frowned something fierce. Smith did his best not to laugh at her. Tilly’s rage looked cartoony comical, her lined face pinched in anger, her eyes bulging as she stared daggers through him.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Hey. Don’t shoot the messenger. You do what you want. But I’m not taking the blame when people complain about their hot water not working. I’ll just point the finger your way.”

  “I’ll give you a finger.” She flipped him off.

  He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  She sighed. “Oh hell. I know you’re right. But before I spend what little money I have left…”

  He knew for a fact Tilly was loaded. A friend of Meg’s back in the day, Tilly had given him the job because she knew him. Fortunately, Tilly had a strength of character and kindness inside her Meg never had. She also had a small fortune left to her from her deceased husband.

  “Eh. I suppose it’s not all bad.” Tilly shrugged. “I’ll be sure to write it off.”

  “Plus, you can buy something from this century that will be energy efficient and save you money in the long run.”

  “There’s that.” She hobbled to her feet, waved him away when he stood to help, then told him to wait for her.

  Smith stood in place, overly conscious of the sounds from the kitchen. Would Erin wear an apron? He’d been having the strangest dreams lately, of her offering him cookies wearing an apron with nothing beneath.

  Yeah, his nights had turned into a sweet hell he needed to fix. Soon. Time to find a woman before he ended up asking out his neighbor. A poor thing like Erin wouldn’t be able to handle a monster like Smith. He’d hurt her feelings or prove too much in the sack. And she’d been through enough with dickbag Cody.

  Not to mention a smart guy didn’t fuck around at home. If things went south with Erin, as they no doubt would, he’d have to deal with a pouty, crying woman who lived right next door. Uncomfortable, to say the least. Smith might not be great when it came to social situations, but he had a brain he used on occasion.