She nodded and released a breathy sigh of relief, moving to open the door for him.
“Would you like to have dinner again? I’m really swamped this upcoming week with a trial. I’ll have several late nights. How about the week after? Actually I’ll cook and bring you dinner.”
She blinked. He would cook her dinner? “You cook?” He hadn’t mentioned that talent in their dinner conversation.
He shrugged. “I can make a decent pasta, bake some garlic bread and open a bottle of wine. Maybe you can make that cheesecake you bragged about.” He winked at her.
“That sounds great.”
He nodded. “Good. Six? It’s a work night.”
A work night. Because work is his priority. Where’s the passion? The spontaneity? She pushed aside the niggling little voice that wanted to be annoyed over this. “Sounds perfect.”
What do you want, Faith? Impractical and wild? Dirty-talking and irresponsible? A guy with a revolving bedroom door who has sex whenever he feels like it—any time, any day of the week.
She winced. No. She didn’t want that. That lived next door and she found him objectionable on every level. His body and face flashed across her mind. Well, almost every level.
Before departing, Brendan stepped in to give her a hug. She patted his shoulder and told herself that none of this was awkward at all.
Closing the door, she kicked off her shoes and moved upstairs, struggling with the zipper at the back of her dress. Finally able to grab it, she stepped out of the dress and tossed it in her laundry hamper.
She slid on a pair of pajama bottoms and a soft camisole. Making her way back downstairs, she spotted a text from Wendy demanding to know all the details of her date.
Laughing lightly, she moved into the kitchen. Opening the dishwasher, she started unloading it. She’d wait to reply to that one. There would be a lot of back and forth. Wendy was demanding that way.
Moments later, the phone buzzed again. She sent it a glance, assuming it was more from Wendy.
Date wasn’t that great?
Speak of the devil. A smile tugged at her mouth. She snatched the phone up and stared at it one long moment before lifting her gaze to stare at her wall as though she could see through to the other side.
It appeared she wasn’t the only one listening at walls and staring out between blinds. North Callaghan was monitoring her comings and goings. He’d seen Brendan bring her home and come inside her house. He’d accurately surmised she was on a date. He knew. It should be creepy, especially considering what she knew about his background, but she couldn’t feel creeped out. She’d done her share of spying on him, after all.
Huffing out a breath, she succumbed and texted back. No. It was great.
Not that great. I don’t hear your headboard knocking.
Oh! Heat clawed her face. Not every date ends in sex. It doesn’t mean it was a bad date.
Definitely doesn’t mean it was great.
You have messed-up dating standards.
Just saying. If you can’t help tearing each other’s clothes off and going at it like rabbits the chemistry must be off.
That was his definition of good chemistry? She lifted her gaze to the wall again and bit her lip. Was he right? The impulse to do that hadn’t even been there. Should it have been? She wasn’t saying she should have jumped into bed with Brendan, but shouldn’t there have been the desire? The chemistry? She hadn’t even thought about sex once when she looked at Brendan tonight. She dropped her gaze back down to her phone and typed. I hate you.
Very faint, laughter drifted through the walls. He was over there laughing at her.
She stomped her foot and resisted the urge to storm next door. Her phone buzzed in her hand. She glanced down.
Don’t get mad at me just because I pointed out some truths.
Her fingers flew back with a response. I’m not angry. I just don’t like you very much Mr. Callaghan. Lust after him? Fine. There was that. But he didn’t need to know it. And fortunately (unfortunately?) Faith wasn’t the type of person who could go to bed with a person she didn’t at least like. She was attracted to him because he looked the way he did. Because he filled out a T-shirt with a body that looked like it could break granite. Clearly. No other reason.
Brendan Cooper was good-looking, too. An insidious little voice reminded her of that fact. Over half the women at the courthouse salivated over him. Wendy wasn’t the only one.
Her phone buzzed with another text. Back to being formal? A little late for that isn’t it?
Please stop texting me.
Women who’ve seen my dick usually just call me North.
Her heart pounded faster, harder as the memory of a naked North Callaghan flooded over her—not that the sight of him naked was ever far from her thoughts.
Sorry. Did I see it? I can’t remember.
Liar. You saw it. I bet you’re still seeing it.
Your arrogance is amazing. Goodnight Mr. Callaghan.
Goodnight Ms. Walters.