Read Online Just Like a Hero by Patricia Pellicane - Free Book Online

tell me I’m sweet. That’s what you say about our neighbors. It was dumb, when I wanted to say, ‘Lexie, I think you’re gorgeous. I love the smell of your cooking. I love the smell of you. And what kind of fabric softener do you use?’”
    Her gaze widened in surprise. “Oh boy, that sounds romantic. You think you should have said that?”
    He shrugged and returned logically, “I like the way you smell. It could be perfume, but I think it’s either your soap or your fabric softener. Which is it?”
    “I’ll show you the bottle before you leave.”
    “Am I leaving?”
    “I have to be at work by 10:00 o’clock, tomorrow.”
    “I thought you were off on Sundays.”
    She shrugged. “Usually, I am. Tomorrow, I’m filling in. One of the cooks took sick.”
    He smiled. “That gives us a little time. Why don’t we make plans for tomorrow night?”
    She shook her head. “We’ll have to work out a plan. Some days, I’m not home ‘til after eleven. You get home by six.”
    He frowned. “I don’t know if I’m going to be happy with the hours you keep.”
    “You’ll get used to it. I only work late a few nights a week.” Then, referring to the subject that had most generated this evening’s conversation, she asked, “So, what about our landlord? Do you think we can do something about the harassment?”
    “Ignore him.”
    “He’s not bothering me. It’s the others he wants out.”
    “I know they take it as harassment, thanks to his disagreeable nature, but the truth is, by law, he’s allowed to visit his property anytime he chooses. He doesn’t enter their apartments, right?”
    She nodded in agreement.
    “He can check the place and make sure everything is running smoothly, correctly to code. In fact, that’s something all landlords or their managers should do. I explained to them they’re allowed to live here for as long as they please. He can’t do a thing about it. I asked one of the guys at work to write up a letter saying as much. They’ll each get a copy. If he was smart, he would have waited to refurbish until after the building was empty.”
    “It wasn’t him. It was his uncle.” She smiled. “Mr. Kerrington was a very nice man. I understand he had many properties. Some say, he was interested in Mrs. Morgan before he got sick.” She shrugged. “Maybe, she was the reason why he fixed up this old building.” She shrugged. “In any case, he had the money to keep these people living in a nice place for their last few years.”
    “And his nephew has to be greedy. He got the place for nothing more than inheritance tax and needs to make big profits.”
    “He’s probably not making much of a profit on this place, thanks to rent control.”
    Jim shrugged. “Eventually, he will. Now, about us,” he said pressing his hips to hers.
    She smiled. “I have dishes to do.”
    “You could leave them ‘til later.”
    “A hero in a romance would help me clean this place up.”
    He sighed as he eased away from her and immediately began scrubbing her sauce pot. “We heroes have a hard road to hoe.”
    She chuckled smoothly, tucked a kitchen towel in his belt to protect his dress pants then cleaned the table and put her centerpiece back in place. As she dried and put away the pots, she said, “I like you in an apron.”
    “It’s not an apron. It’s a towel. Would you like it if I wore only an apron?”
    “You’d probably need something bigger than what you’re wearing now.”
    He grinned, raised and lowered his brows in quick succession. “Thank you.”
    She shook her head, dismissing his comment. “What I mean is you’re too…” She watched his smile burst into laughter. She ignored it and said, “Thanks for your help.”
    Her kitchen sparkled. Jim pulled the towel away, folded it and put it on her counter. Leaning his hip against the same counter, he said in supposed innocence, “Now, there’s nothing left to do. Have any ideas?”
    She smiled. “I have laundry that needs