lips. It was nothing like the searing drama of their earlier make-out session, but it still made her heart pound and her cheeks heat.
“Want me to catch you a cab, or should we be stalwart troopers and walk the rest of the way?”
“Nice. Make me feel like a wimp if I say no.”
“That wasn’t my intention,” he said, his gaze and hers so locked on each other, East Houston could have crumbled and she wouldn’t have noticed. “Although I’ll admit, I’d like to see you to your door.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Are you just trying to get the address of the nude couple across the way?”
His wince was exaggerated and adorable. “Man, I thought we had an understanding about the whole pervert business.”
“Sorry. My fault. Let’s brave the mean streets and get me home. I might even give you another bite of cheesecake.”
He stood, held out his hand for her, the smile he was trying to control hinting that his mind had gone in the wrong direction.
She gave him the opportunity to drop her hand once she was standing, but he didn’t. Not there, not all the way to Attorney, where she pointed out the building in question, then her own redbrick home.
“You own the building?” he asked, so surprised he stopped completely before they’d reached her steps.
“My parents bought it years ago. I rent out the bottom floor, which I’ve converted into a separate apartment. It pays most of my taxes, and I figure when it’s time, I’ll sell the old place and move into something smaller. Where I don’t have to be the landlord.”
“Wow, smart planning. Very wise. So your parents are...?”
“My father passed away in 1998. My mother’s alive and well and living in sin with her boyfriend, Solomon, in Brooklyn.”
“Living in sin?” Max shook his head as he bumped her shoulder with his own. “It’s been really fun talking to you.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t expected such an abrupt goodbye. Admittedly, she was safe here, steps away from home, but still.
“No, I mean that literally. It’s a pleasure to talk to you. You’re bright and witty and there hasn’t been a hint of legalese since dinner. I can’t tell you how refreshing it’s been.”
“Oh,” she repeated, but in a completely different way. “I’m glad. It has been fun. For all kinds of reasons.”
“Yes,” he said, serious now, no teasing in his eyes or the way he held himself. “Altogether a memorable night.”
She looked at her house, knowing she had no business even thinking of inviting him anywhere close to it, but she didn’t want the spell to end quite yet. Turning back, she held up the box of cheesecake. “I wasn’t kidding about helping me with this. It’s late. My defenses are down. I need more cheesecake like I need a bunion.”
“I have excellent taste in cheesecake,” he said. “Shoot me.”
“Let me keep that option in reserve,” she said, and he grinned. “Instead, why don’t you come in? I’ll make coffee. I make very good coffee.”
“It’s pretty late for coffee,” he said, but she could see he was thinking about it.
“I make good decaf, too.”
“Sure. I’ve been fighting off stealing that box for a good five blocks.”
Showing her good faith in him, she let him hold the prize until she got her keys out. He held the door for her, and as soon as she crossed the threshold, Fred’s strident voice said, “Where the hell have you been, and why haven’t you answered your... Oh, hel-lo.”
The surprised look on Max’s face was one she’d remember for a long, long time. Sadly, she would remember all the other looks, too. Each and every one.
7
“M AX , THIS IS F RED . He lives here. And despite appearances, he’s not my dad or my conscience.”
Max relaxed into an offered handshake, but his smile was met with narrowed eyes. Fred was tall and thin, with dark reddish hair and a long face dominated at the moment by a look of suspicion.
“You’re the trading-card guy.” It didn’t sound much
“Want me to catch you a cab, or should we be stalwart troopers and walk the rest of the way?”
“Nice. Make me feel like a wimp if I say no.”
“That wasn’t my intention,” he said, his gaze and hers so locked on each other, East Houston could have crumbled and she wouldn’t have noticed. “Although I’ll admit, I’d like to see you to your door.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Are you just trying to get the address of the nude couple across the way?”
His wince was exaggerated and adorable. “Man, I thought we had an understanding about the whole pervert business.”
“Sorry. My fault. Let’s brave the mean streets and get me home. I might even give you another bite of cheesecake.”
He stood, held out his hand for her, the smile he was trying to control hinting that his mind had gone in the wrong direction.
She gave him the opportunity to drop her hand once she was standing, but he didn’t. Not there, not all the way to Attorney, where she pointed out the building in question, then her own redbrick home.
“You own the building?” he asked, so surprised he stopped completely before they’d reached her steps.
“My parents bought it years ago. I rent out the bottom floor, which I’ve converted into a separate apartment. It pays most of my taxes, and I figure when it’s time, I’ll sell the old place and move into something smaller. Where I don’t have to be the landlord.”
“Wow, smart planning. Very wise. So your parents are...?”
“My father passed away in 1998. My mother’s alive and well and living in sin with her boyfriend, Solomon, in Brooklyn.”
“Living in sin?” Max shook his head as he bumped her shoulder with his own. “It’s been really fun talking to you.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t expected such an abrupt goodbye. Admittedly, she was safe here, steps away from home, but still.
“No, I mean that literally. It’s a pleasure to talk to you. You’re bright and witty and there hasn’t been a hint of legalese since dinner. I can’t tell you how refreshing it’s been.”
“Oh,” she repeated, but in a completely different way. “I’m glad. It has been fun. For all kinds of reasons.”
“Yes,” he said, serious now, no teasing in his eyes or the way he held himself. “Altogether a memorable night.”
She looked at her house, knowing she had no business even thinking of inviting him anywhere close to it, but she didn’t want the spell to end quite yet. Turning back, she held up the box of cheesecake. “I wasn’t kidding about helping me with this. It’s late. My defenses are down. I need more cheesecake like I need a bunion.”
“I have excellent taste in cheesecake,” he said. “Shoot me.”
“Let me keep that option in reserve,” she said, and he grinned. “Instead, why don’t you come in? I’ll make coffee. I make very good coffee.”
“It’s pretty late for coffee,” he said, but she could see he was thinking about it.
“I make good decaf, too.”
“Sure. I’ve been fighting off stealing that box for a good five blocks.”
Showing her good faith in him, she let him hold the prize until she got her keys out. He held the door for her, and as soon as she crossed the threshold, Fred’s strident voice said, “Where the hell have you been, and why haven’t you answered your... Oh, hel-lo.”
The surprised look on Max’s face was one she’d remember for a long, long time. Sadly, she would remember all the other looks, too. Each and every one.
7
“M AX , THIS IS F RED . He lives here. And despite appearances, he’s not my dad or my conscience.”
Max relaxed into an offered handshake, but his smile was met with narrowed eyes. Fred was tall and thin, with dark reddish hair and a long face dominated at the moment by a look of suspicion.
“You’re the trading-card guy.” It didn’t sound much
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