and I’m not busy, I thought we could not be busy together.”
His grin turned into a warm chuckle as he watched her pull a bottle of wine from under her shirt. “Have you got anything else under there? Glasses maybe or hors d’oeuvres?”
“No hors d’oeuvres, but if you look closely, you might find one or two things under there,” she teased as she continued to whisper and silently cursed as she felt her cheeks grow warm. She’d never been so bold. She sighed, knowing he’d think she was awful.
Apparently, she was wrong. His eyes crinkled at their corners as he grinned. “Why are we whispering?”
“You don’t want Mrs. Morgan to hear us, do you?”
“Do you think she can hear us in here?”
“Probably not, but I’m not taking any chances. I did see a stethoscope on her hall table once, and I happen to know she’s not a doctor.”
He laughed. “Come on in,” he invited as he led the way down a short hall to his kitchen.
The apartment building was old, but each unit had been modernized, the last of it finished six months ago. During the work, their landlord had died and left the building to his nephew. Lexie had known the rents would rise once the remodeling was finished. Of course, hers had, but the old folks living in the building still paid the same, thanks to rent control. The new landlord wasn’t the least bit happy. Because this was a rent control building, the only way her now frustrated landlord could raise the rent was if the original occupants left or died. And judging by her spry neighbors, that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.
Lexie noticed Jim’s apartment was the exact mirror of hers. While her kitchen was on the left, his was on the right. Like hers, his kitchen was large, airy and had yards of counter space, a perfect place to work. This one sported light wood cabinets and multi-colored brown and beige granite counters. Everything was sparkling clean.
He placed her measuring cup on the counter. Next to it glasses for the wine, while he opened a drawer and fished around. With a corkscrew in hand, he set to work on the bottle of wine.
“Do you really need sugar?” he asked.
Lexie stood at the counter, the living room to her left. Without thought, her gaze took in a wall lined with books which surrounded a fifty-inch, flat-screen television. A comfy looking, thickly cushioned and obviously well-used leather chair and couch faced the shelves and TV. “No. I just bought a five-pound bag. But if I don’t take some back and Mrs. Morgan sees me—which she definitely will…” Lexie left the sentence unfinished, while adding a shrug. “I like your place.”
“Thanks. I’m not much into decorating, but it works for me. Thank you again for that spaghetti. My friends ate like gluttons. They didn’t leave me a strand.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said as she turned her attention back to the man.
“You make this whole building smell great.”
She shrugged. “I like to try different recipes.”
“The next time you’re at it, invite me over. I’ll try most anything at least once.”
Lexie gave him a long look before laughing at what should have been, but somehow was not, an innocent remark. “That’s something to think about, isn’t it?”
“Mrs. Morgan told me you have no one special in your life.”
“She told me the same about you.”
“Do you think she’s trying to set us up?” he asked.
“Probably,” she said with a nod and smiled as he pulled the cork out of the bottle. “Once you’re here for awhile, you’ll come to know there’s a whole group of seniors who don’t have anything better to do than garden, knit blankets and socks for the VA hospital and butt into other people’s lives. They’ve made it their mission to see me married. Most of them are worse than my mother. There’s no telling what they might have in store for you.”
Jim’s low, wicked chuckle sent chills down her spine. “I’m not afraid of them. Are you
His grin turned into a warm chuckle as he watched her pull a bottle of wine from under her shirt. “Have you got anything else under there? Glasses maybe or hors d’oeuvres?”
“No hors d’oeuvres, but if you look closely, you might find one or two things under there,” she teased as she continued to whisper and silently cursed as she felt her cheeks grow warm. She’d never been so bold. She sighed, knowing he’d think she was awful.
Apparently, she was wrong. His eyes crinkled at their corners as he grinned. “Why are we whispering?”
“You don’t want Mrs. Morgan to hear us, do you?”
“Do you think she can hear us in here?”
“Probably not, but I’m not taking any chances. I did see a stethoscope on her hall table once, and I happen to know she’s not a doctor.”
He laughed. “Come on in,” he invited as he led the way down a short hall to his kitchen.
The apartment building was old, but each unit had been modernized, the last of it finished six months ago. During the work, their landlord had died and left the building to his nephew. Lexie had known the rents would rise once the remodeling was finished. Of course, hers had, but the old folks living in the building still paid the same, thanks to rent control. The new landlord wasn’t the least bit happy. Because this was a rent control building, the only way her now frustrated landlord could raise the rent was if the original occupants left or died. And judging by her spry neighbors, that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.
Lexie noticed Jim’s apartment was the exact mirror of hers. While her kitchen was on the left, his was on the right. Like hers, his kitchen was large, airy and had yards of counter space, a perfect place to work. This one sported light wood cabinets and multi-colored brown and beige granite counters. Everything was sparkling clean.
He placed her measuring cup on the counter. Next to it glasses for the wine, while he opened a drawer and fished around. With a corkscrew in hand, he set to work on the bottle of wine.
“Do you really need sugar?” he asked.
Lexie stood at the counter, the living room to her left. Without thought, her gaze took in a wall lined with books which surrounded a fifty-inch, flat-screen television. A comfy looking, thickly cushioned and obviously well-used leather chair and couch faced the shelves and TV. “No. I just bought a five-pound bag. But if I don’t take some back and Mrs. Morgan sees me—which she definitely will…” Lexie left the sentence unfinished, while adding a shrug. “I like your place.”
“Thanks. I’m not much into decorating, but it works for me. Thank you again for that spaghetti. My friends ate like gluttons. They didn’t leave me a strand.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said as she turned her attention back to the man.
“You make this whole building smell great.”
She shrugged. “I like to try different recipes.”
“The next time you’re at it, invite me over. I’ll try most anything at least once.”
Lexie gave him a long look before laughing at what should have been, but somehow was not, an innocent remark. “That’s something to think about, isn’t it?”
“Mrs. Morgan told me you have no one special in your life.”
“She told me the same about you.”
“Do you think she’s trying to set us up?” he asked.
“Probably,” she said with a nod and smiled as he pulled the cork out of the bottle. “Once you’re here for awhile, you’ll come to know there’s a whole group of seniors who don’t have anything better to do than garden, knit blankets and socks for the VA hospital and butt into other people’s lives. They’ve made it their mission to see me married. Most of them are worse than my mother. There’s no telling what they might have in store for you.”
Jim’s low, wicked chuckle sent chills down her spine. “I’m not afraid of them. Are you
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