All or Nothing(9)

A scrape of metal outside the door caught my attention. The door handle jiggled once, then twice, and a man’s voice cursed. I’d locked the door behind me, but someone was clearly trying to get in. I’d seen too many scary movies with a girl alone in the dark in an unfamiliar place. Every hair on my body stood on end, and my hands shook with fear as I darted for the kitchen and drew a knife from the butcher’s block. The door opened and I sprung forward, the knife out in front of me.

“Holy fuck!” the man swore loudly, guiding my knife-wielding arm away from his midsection and pinning me to the wall. “Kitten? Is that you?”

“Braydon?” I asked, peering at the handsome intruder in the faint light.

“Yeah. It’s me.” He turned me to face him, still holding my arm. “If I release you, you promise not to stab me?”

“Braydon! Stop it. Of course. I thought you were a serial killer.”

He removed the knife from my grasp and set it on the nearby console table beside Ben’s door. “Still, let’s set this over here until you’re feeling less stabby.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I got a call from Ben. About the flood.”

“I got an email from Emmy.”

We watched each other for a few heartbeats in silence. Being near him again in the darkened, silent apartment sent a rush of awareness skittering over my skin. I remembered how his full mouth felt on mine, the insistence and gentleness of his kiss. I was glad the room was too dim for him to notice my cheeks turn pink and my hands begin to shake.

“You okay?” He reached out a hand to steady me, gliding it along my upper arm.

“Yeah. Sorry. I just . . . got a little light-headed. The power’s off and you scared me.”

“I’m sorry, kitten,” he whispered, the deep timbre of his voice soothing me.

“It’s fine.” I turned away from him, unwilling to let myself get sucked into his orbit. Yet again. The other night was embarrassing enough. I’d come undone so easily for him. Good thing he didn’t know that no man had ever had such a powerful effect on me.

“How bad is the damage?” he asked, following me into the living room.

“It’s mostly centered in the living room. I think the couch is ruined. And the dining room floor’s a little wet, too.”

“Cool. You want some wine?”

Cool? I spun around to face him. He’d ventured into the kitchen and was raiding their wine cabinet. What the hell?

“I can’t see what’s what in the dark. How picky are you?”

“Um . . .” Was he insane?

“White or red?” he asked.

“We shouldn’t. We’re here to help, right?”

“Oh, we definitely are. I’m ordering us a pizza, too. You hungry?”

“Starving, actually,” I admitted, my stomach grumbling at the mere mention of food and the thought of the uneaten enchilada in my fridge at home. Mmm, pizza sounded fantastic. “What about cleaning up?” I asked, looking from him back to the soggy living room.

Braydon shrugged. “I’ll call someone to come remove the couch, rug, and whatever else tomorrow . . . but since they lured both of us here, I think we should relax and have something to eat. Ben has the best wine collection, too. He gets cases of this shit flown in from Italy. He’s friends with the owner of a vineyard outside of Milan. Trust me, you’ll want some.”

I watched as he set two wineglasses and a bottle on the counter and began pulling open drawers in search of a corkscrew.

“It’s in here.” I pulled open the third drawer on the right and produced the fancy compressed opener I’d seen Emmy use.

“Sexy and talented. Thanks.” He took the device from me and quickly opened the bottle, pouring a healthy measure into each of our glasses. “To water-main breaks.” He lifted his glass to mine.

I smiled at him, feeling the tension and stress of my day melt away just from his closeness. He had one of those magnetic personalities; he was so laid back, like nothing ever bothered him. I found it refreshing and extremely intoxicating. I could use a dose of that in my life. I was wound so damn tight most of the time. I took a sip of the wine and felt it warm a path down my throat and into my belly.

“Since the sofa is out, shall we lounge in the bedroom?” He winked.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said with a snort.

“Why, gorgeous?” He leaned in close, brushing his nose along my jaw and inhaling slowly. “Afraid of what might happen?”

I rolled my eyes and followed him to the bedroom. Braydon situated candles on the dresser and bedside tables, providing a nice glow for the room. “What do you like on your pizza?”