Curveball by Kate Angell Page A

“Baroque or perhaps something inspired by Louis the Sixteenth?”
    Psycho wasn’t taken by either dresser. What caught his eye was a contemporary double dresser with a mirror. He nodded to Annaldo. “This one works.”
    “Most certainly, sir.” The gallery owner gave Psycho a knowing look. “Six deep drawers, a commodity to be shared. Handsome craftsmanship for a man, yet sleek, sophisticated lines for a woman. It will take up less space than two separate pieces.”
    Shared? Psycho hadn’t planned on Keely’s bras and panties lying in a drawer next to his socks and T-shirts. On the flip side, sharing a dresser would bring her to his bedroom. He wasn’t going to touch her. And there was no law against looking.
    “Bamboo, eucalyptus, or oyster-colored silk sheets?” asked Annaldo. “The platform bed comes with a comforter and two pillows.”
    Psycho stuck his tongue in his cheek and looked to Keely. Let her pick out his sheets.
    She set her empty wineglass on a cork coaster atop a high-boy dresser. “Bamboo.”
    “Very well,” approved a pleased Annaldo.
    Psycho and Keely left the gallery with Annaldo’s promise that the furniture would be delivered the next morning.
    Back at the Colonial, Psycho followed Keely into the formal living room. She clutched the cookie box to her chest as she turned in a full circle. “How would you like the couch and chairs placed? Angled east to catch the morning sun? Or west for the sunset?”
    Psycho took a moment to answer. “Unload the furniture in the family room behind the stairs. If you decorate that room last, I can set up my television and have a place to hide during the restoration.”
    “Works for me.” She smiled then, a very relaxed and pink-cheeked woman after only two glasses of wine.
    He stepped toward her, tipping up her chin with his finger. “How often do you drink wine?”
    “Not often enough.”
    That’s what he’d thought. She was a lightweight. She’d gotten a buzz from the trebbiano. “I’ll unload your bed, get you set up for the night.”
    “I don’t have bamboo sheets.”
    “You can have mine when they arrive tomorrow.”
    “First cookies, now sheets. I do love gifts.”
    On impulse, Psycho bent and kissed her on the forehead.
    As spontaneous as he, Keely rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday to us.” Her smile was as bright as a cake topped with candles.
    Psycho decided then and there, as long as Keely Douglas worked for him, every day would bring a celebration. He would make up for all the birthdays she had missed. He liked seeing her happy.

SIX
    Romeo Bellisaro was taking great pleasure in Emerson Kent’s smile. A pleasure that faded when she wouldn’t let him touch her. He’d tried all the accidental moves he could think of. Romeo had excellent hand-eye coordination, yet Emerson outmaneuvered him every time. The lady was fast.
    She’d reached for a sugar packet, quickly withdrawing her hand before he could stroke her fingers. Jarred by her retreat, he’d knocked over the sugar caddy. Decorative pansy sugar cubes and Sweet N Low had spilled onto the floor.
    “Smooth move.” Coffee shop owner Jacy Grayson had shot him an amused look. “Keep swinging, Romeo, you’re bound to hit something.”
    Curveball. Swing and a miss. Emerson elbowed him back when he tried to scoot closer. His third out came quickly. In an attempt to squeeze Emerson’s knee, he inadvertently bumped the cherry-wood table leg. The cups and saucersshook, and Em’s mocha latte splashed onto her suit jacket sleeve. Fortunately, a touch of club soda took care of the stain.
    All in all, it was a very frustrating coffee date. The continuous tapping of the keys on her laptop didn’t help one bit. He was totally ticked that Emerson paid more attention to her article than to him.
    Feeling his eyes on her, Em looked up and met his stare. “You’re sulking, Romeo.”
    He took a sip of his black coffee. “Just watching you work.”
    “I thought you