Naked (5 page)

“Not here, don’t worry.” Alex laughed. “I’ve got a room booked at the Hotel Hershey for a week, but I’m looking for a place to rent for the rest of the time.”

The sound of heels echoing on the wooden floors of my too-empty extra apartment rang in my ears, along with the
ka-ching
of a cash register. “I have a place you might be interested in.”

Both men gazed at me then. Patrick’s brows had raised. Alex looked assessing.

“I bought a building,” I explained. “An old firehouse. I live on the second floor, but the ground-floor apartment is vacant and partially furnished.”

“You told me you didn’t want to deal with the hassle of having a tenant.” Patrick’s tone, faintly accusatory, put a small curl in my lip.

Alex, on the other hand, let his gaze drift back and forth between the two of us before his mouth tipped up a fraction at the corners. “Where’s your place, Olivia?”

“Annville.”

I said it just as Patrick said, “The middle of nowhere.”

“Annville,” I repeated, “is about twenty minutes from Hershey. Same distance as from here.”

“Sounds great. When can I see it?”

“How about right now?”

Alex smiled. “Perfect.”

A
lex drove a crappier car than I expected. I hadn’t noticed the baby-shit-brown sedan parked along the street in front of Patrick’s house the night before. It probably looked much better in the dark.

“Rental,” he explained when I stared at it.

I’d parked my own car with the pride of privilege in Patrick and Teddy’s narrow driveway in front of the garage. “Mine’s around back. I’ll pull out and wait for you so you can follow. Oh, and let me get your cell number in case we get separated.”

He had a crappy car but a very, very nice and shiny new iPhone, the latest model. “Yeah, I’d better take yours, too.”

There was nothing strange about this exchange. Hell, random strangers gave each other their numbers all the time. Texting had replaced normal face-to-face conversations. Pretty soon we’d all just implant chips in our heads and never
leave our houses. Even so, tapping his long and unfamiliar number into my phone felt somehow intimate and strangely permanent.

“Now you,” Alex said, and held up the phone’s camera. “Smile.”

“Oh, you’re not—”

Too late; he’d taken the shot, and held it up to show me how I had a place now in his list of contacts. I was smiling, my head half turned, and the light was better than I’d thought, the picture clear and crisp. I’d be in his phone forever, or until he deleted me.

Alex unlocked his car with the keyless remote. He’d put on a black wool peacoat with an upturned collar and a long, striped scarf. With his tousled hair and long bangs he could’ve been a catalog model, and I mentally snapped a few shots of him looking into a sunset, maybe standing next to a golden retriever, advertising something sexy like cologne or designer sunglasses. Not that I ever got those sorts of jobs, but someday I might.

He caught me looking and smiled as if he was used to being stared at. “Ready?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

He put a hand over his heart and gave a half bow. “Wherever you may go.”

My mouth opened, flippant words ready to spill out, but somehow they got tangled up on my tongue and all I managed was a smile. It had been quite a while since any man had left me speechless with something as simple as a grin and a few words. No wonder Patrick had warned me off. Alex Kennedy
was
trouble, unfortunately of the best kind.

And he didn’t like girls, I reminded myself. “I’ll be in the silver Impala.”

I kept my eye on him in the rearview mirror the entire trip, but Alex had no trouble navigating the sparse traffic and keeping up with me. We pulled into the alley next to the three-story building that had once been the firehouse on Annville’s Main Street, and parked in the lot behind it. He got out before I did, and tipped his head back to look up at the building.

“Sweet.”

I felt a rush of pride as we both took a minute to look at the building’s brick backside. The iron fire escape wasn’t pretty, but even so, the building was impressive. And I owned it. The whole thing, just me.

“So, this is Annville,” Alex said.

A car crept slowly along the alley and kicked up a stray grocery bag I snagged to toss in the trash. While living in Harrisburg I wouldn’t have bothered, but since moving to the small town I’d taken more pride. “Yep. In all its glory.”

Alex, hands in his pockets, turned around in a circle to give everything another once-over. “Nice.”

I laughed as I turned the key in the back door’s lock. “It will be quite a change from your international globe-trotting.”

“That’s okay. I grew up in a small town. Not as small as this,” he amended, stepping through after me and stomping his feet on the mat. “But believe me, I wasn’t raised a world traveler.”

The long, narrow hall led to a three-story foyer with the wide, wooden spiraling staircase to our right and the door to the ground-floor apartment to the left. Directly ahead, a front door opened onto the sidewalk along Main Street, and
tall windows let in a lot of light. Alex looked up, smiling, and let out a whistle.

I looked over my shoulder at him as I opened the door to the flat. “Come inside.”

It wasn’t anything special—a living room, dining area and kitchen, with a bathroom and two bedrooms that had been carved from what had once been the garage housing the fire trucks. It was darker than my place, not having the big second-and third-floor windows, but it did have immense, broad beams in the ceiling, and a nice, open layout.

“What do you think?”

Alex walked around, checking out the wooden floors, the plastered walls. He tested the spring-cushioned love seat left behind by the previous tenants, and peeked into the kitchen while I watched. He looked into one bedroom, then the other, and finally the bath. The whole tour took about seven minutes. He turned to me with a broad grin.

“I’ll take it.”

“Really? That fast, huh?”

“Sure. It beats sleeping on someone’s couch,” he said. “I like it.”

“You don’t even know the price,” I pointed out, though I hadn’t planned on charging much since the place did need some work and something was better than the nothing I’d had from it before.

“Name it.”

I thought. “Four hundred a month?”

“Sold.”

“Should I have asked for more?”

Alex looked around. “Probably. That couch adds a lot of value. The smell, especially.”

“It doesn’t smell!” I cried, horrified. “Does it smell?”

He laughed. “I’m kidding you, Olivia. It’s fine. So…you want first and last month’s rent? A security deposit? Got paperwork to sign?”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Umm…”

Alex came forward, hand out. I thought he meant to shake, but when he took mine, he didn’t let go. He pumped my hand slowly, smiling. “Maybe we should just spit on our palms.”

“Wow. No. How about we skip that part. First and last month’s rent is fine, if you have it.”

“I have it.” Alex squeezed my hand and let go, then looked around again. “When can I move in?”

“Whenever you want.”

“Sweet.” He turned to me. “Next week? It’ll take some time for me to get some things shipped here. Buy a bed. That sort of thing.”

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a copy of the keys.”

Alex studied me. “You sure you don’t need references or anything like that?”

“Why? Because you’re trouble?”

Alex laughed. “Right. That’s me.”

“I can handle you,” I said.

“I’m sure you can.” Alex’s stomach rumbled suddenly and loudly. After the pancake orgy earlier I’d have thought I wouldn’t eat until the next day, but of course my own stomach had to answer his. “Let me take you to dinner.”

“It’s only three o’clock.”

“Late lunch, then.” He grinned. “Where do you want to go?”

“Alex…I really need to get some work done.”

“Olivia,” he wheedled, a man totally used to getting his
own way. “I heard your stomach rumbling. You can’t deny you’re hungry.”

I’d known him for less than forty-eight hours and already I’d seen how he looked when he came, tasted his cooking, had my ass handed to me playing
Dance Dance Revolution,
and now I was going to practically be living with him.

I let Alex take me to dinner, too.

It was hard to eat while laughing, and he wasn’t giving me much chance to do anything else. Alex had stories, and if I could tell that many of them were exaggerated for effect, it was also easy to believe them. He’d been all over, done so much, that I felt like a real country mouse beside him.

“What is your story, really?” I said over slices of cheesecake and mugs of espresso. “How’d you make it here from Japan?”

“I came from Holland, actually. Before that I was in Singapore. Went to Scotland, too.”

I made a face. “Smart-ass. You didn’t come to Central PA just to visit Patrick?”

“Well…” Alex shrugged. “He invited me, for one thing, and it was on my way back home. Plus I had a lead on this consulting gig. It all worked out.”

“Where’s home?”

“I’m from Ohio. Sandusky.”

“Cedar Point!” I said. “I’ve been there.”

“Yeah. That’s the place.” Alex drank some espresso and leaned back in the booth. He still wore the long scarf, though his peacoat was scrunched in a pile by his side. “I thought I’d get back there for the holidays, but it looks like I’ll be staying here instead.”

“How come?”

This time Alex did more than glance at me. He gave me the full weight of his gaze. “I haven’t been back in a long time. Sometimes, the longer you stay away from something the harder it is to go back there.”

I knew that already. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. So…you don’t get along with your family?”

A pause, a breath. He raised a brow.

“Too personal?” I asked.

“No. Just not sure how to answer.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. Have you heard the expression ‘home is the place where they have to take you in’? Or whatever it is?”

“Of course.” I licked the tines of my fork and then dragged it through the chocolate syrup on my plate.

“Well, let’s just say I’m more of a ‘you can never go home again’ type of guy.”

“Wow. That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. I guess so. I used to not get along with my family at all. My dad was…” Alex hesitated again, then kept going before I could tell him once more he didn’t have to speak. “He’s an asshole. I was going to say he
was
an asshole, but I guess he still is. He doesn’t drink anymore, but he’s kind of an ass, anyway. I think that’s just who he is.”

I sipped at the last of my coffee. “But?”

“But he’s trying. I guess. Not that I think my dad and I are ever going to go on that big father-son fishing trip or anything,” he added.

“You never know.”

“I know,” Alex said pointedly. “But at least he talks to me
when I call home. And he cashes the checks I send. Well, hell, he always did that.”

Alex laughed. I laughed a second later, thinking I should feel a little awkward about this sharing but…not.

“People change,” I said.

“Everything changes.” Alex shrugged and looked away. “Shit happens. Anyway, I’d been working overseas for a long time. Sold my company a few years ago and wasn’t doing a whole lot. I went back home for the summer and…fuck.”

A harsh word, a little out of place for the circumstances. It put me on the edge of my seat. It sounded good, coming from him, as if he said it a lot. He must’ve been keeping himself in line until now. I liked thinking he might be letting go.

“Let’s just say I remembered all the reasons I’d left home in the first place.” He flicked his bangs from his face with a practiced jerk. “Anyway, I got some offers to do some consulting, got a start with a new company. Traveled for a while, went back overseas. Worked for a while in Japan. That’s where I met Patrick. But the job ended and I had to go somewhere. Thought I’d travel around my homeland instead of being a stranger in a strange land.”

“I love that book.”

He looked at me. “Me, too.”

“So, what, you’re not working at all? Just going wherever you want, whenever?”

“Sleeping on a series of couches.” Alex paused to bite some cheesecake. “I’m sort of a professional houseguest.”

“That sounds…” I laughed.

He laughed, too. “Shitty?”

“Sort of.”

He shrugged. “I’m good at making a pain of myself by abusing hospitality.”

“I don’t see that about you at all.” I thought of how he’d moved around Patrick’s kitchen, making himself at home, but not overstepping. “Besides, people wouldn’t invite you to stay if they didn’t like you.”

Alex dragged his fork through the cheesecake and kept his gaze there. “Sure. I guess so. But now I don’t have to worry about it anymore, right?”

Warmth eased over my cheeks at that, and I couldn’t keep my smile tucked away. “I guess not. I’ve got your first and last in my pocket, and it’s pretty much already spent.”

“I guess you’re not treating for dinner, then.” He reached to jab his fork through the last bite of my cheesecake, and while I might’ve stabbed out the eyes of anyone else who dared do such a thing, I could only laugh at him.

“No way. You invited me.”

I don’t think it’s possible to know someone in just a couple days, a few hours. I didn’t believe I knew him then, no matter what I’d seen or said. But at that moment, I believed I could know him. More than that, I believed I wanted to.

“That’s right, I did. The person who asks should always pay for the date.”

He looked up at me with those dark eyes, that soft, smirking mouth, and I once again found myself without words and wondering how he managed to strike me so stupid with nothing but a glance.

“C’mon,” Alex said as he got up from the table. “Let’s get out of here.”

And I followed.

The first clue I had that Alex had actually moved in was the different car in my parking lot. It wasn’t a new car, but whoa. Bright yellow Camaro with black accents? Not at all what I’d have picked for my new downstairs neighbor. It looked to be from the mid-to-late eighties, the only reason I could guess that close being that my brother, Bert, was something of a muscle car buff and would often wax poetic about a certain type.

I pulled in beside it and stepped out to look it over. The car itself was in fine but not pristine condition, the interior a little more worn. This wasn’t even a showpiece car. This was a butch, wheels a-rollin’, smoke-out-at-a-traffic-light sort of car.

I liked it.

It had been only a few days since we’d sealed the deal without the spit on our palms, and I’d put the cash Alex had paid me with to good use—toward groceries and some bills, and added a new photo printer I didn’t need but really wanted. I hadn’t seen him since Sunday, though he’d left a message on my voice mail telling me he’d be moving in sometime this week. Judging by the car and the boxes stacked up in the front entry, he’d made a good start.

His door opened as my foot hit the first stair, and I turned, setting the heavy printer box on the railing to rest my arms. “Hi.”

“Olivia.” Warm and gooey caramel, smooth and yummy, that was his voice. “Hey, can I give you a hand?”

I’d have said no but for the fact I’d been stupid and tried to carry not only my three bags of groceries but also the printer, and my arms were already shaking. “Yeah, that would be great. Can you grab—”