A Novella MisTaken(15)

“Good company. Though calling you good company is the understatement of the century.”

Her cheeks felt warm and Jay was sure it was more than the wine producing that dizzying effect. So far they’d only run into each other a few times outside and chatted casually. She wished he would ask her out for something more formal.

Then she remembered she was a woman of the modern generation—she could ask him out. And she would. After a few more sips of wine.

They walked down the newspaper aisles, her eyes scanning the headlines halfheartedly. USA Today and New York Times both displayed articles about the economy. The Boston Globe’s front page showcased a rise of drug-related crimes right in the Back Bay area, the neighborhood they lived in. Then came the magazines—stories about celebrities’ weddings and divorces and babies and weight loss trends graced the covers. By the time she reached the tabloids at the end of the row, she’d finished her wine, and her courage had been bolstered.

“So,” she said as they turned in unison toward the bestselling fiction section, “do you have plans for the evening?”

“Just work,” Noah answered absentmindedly, picking up the latest bestselling crime thriller. He scowled at the back description. “People actually buy this shit?” he muttered under his breath.

The popular book he was holding was particularly offensive to anyone with even a minimal background in English. But Jay was more interested in the former part of Noah’s statement. She realized she still did not know what her new neighbor did for a living. He’d blown her off when she’d asked before, but now he’d opened the door.

“Work?” She trailed her hand across a stack of a recent young-adult breakout novel, trying to appear casual. “What was it you do again?”

Noah threw the book down and shot her a glance, his brows furrowed as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “Oh, I meant work around the apartment.” He turned his focus to the next row of books. “I’m still not all the way settled. Boxes everywhere. It’s keeping me pretty busy.”

Unpacking did generally take a bit of time to complete. Still. Why did Jay feel like his answer was a cover-up? Did he not want to talk about his job? Every time it had come up, he’d deflected. Which was awfully curious. Also mysterious. And Jay didn’t do well with unsolved mysteries.

She put the date-asking on hold, and followed where her curiosity led her. “Moving is a bitch. Did you get to take some vacation time at least?”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t even look at her.

Completely evasive.

She bit her lip and considered. Maybe he really was out of work, living on unemployment. Though the apartments they lived in were not generally affordable to those on welfare. Or maybe he did something embarrassing. She’d heard that garbage men made good money. But certainly someone who worked all day around trash wouldn’t smell as yummy as Noah Harrison, would they?

She was overthinking this. If he didn’t want to tell her, he didn’t want to tell her. She had to respect his privacy. Even if it meant ignoring her inner Nancy Drew. Maybe just one little Googling later would be okay though.

They turned down another aisle and Jay spotted a trash can. Holding out her bag of baked goods toward Noah’s empty plastic cup, she said, “Trade you.”

“You want me to hold your buns?” he asked with a delicious smile.

She managed to hold his gaze as she played in return. “Don’t you know? I’ve been trying to get your hands on my buns all afternoon.”

He chuckled as he took her bag, placing his cup in her outstretched hand. She turned toward the trash can and he called after her. “Hey, Jay?” He waited for her to peer questioningly over her shoulder. “Nice buns.”

It was her turn to laugh. God, this guy was good. Delicious and flirty and downright sexy. And he got books! Such a plus. He was into her; there was no arguing that. He seemed to respect her intelligence and independence yet there was no denying he had a romantic streak. Could Noah Harrison possibly be everything she’d been looking for?

Too soon to tell, she decided as she tossed the cups in the trash, but she was definitely optimistic for the first time in months.

When she turned back toward him, she found he was still watching her. He’d been staring at her behind, she realized, but again, it wasn’t in an offensive way. He was appreciating her much in the same way she appreciated him. His strong runner thighs, his chest that she could tell was cut even through his clothes, the sexy bulge of his biceps …

“Why, Jaylene, are you objectifying me?” he teased.

She blushed. She hadn’t meant to appreciate him right at that moment, and not so obviously. At least he’d had the decency to do it behind her back.