“Are you asking me if I’m fucking anyone right now?” I shot at him, and he spluttered into his coffee.

“Definitely the strangest conversation I’ve ever had with a woman,” he muttered.

“A hot and sexy woman,” I reminded him.

“That’s for damn sure. So, how about you? Ever been in love?”

“This feels like an ABC mini-series, with all the coffee and the love talk,” I said. I might have been stalling.

“Come on, let’s celebrate this moment in our lives.” He snorted, gesturing with his coffee mug.

“Have I ever been in love? Yes. Yes, I have.”

“And?”

“And nothing. It didn’t end in a very good way, but what ending is ever good? He changed, I changed, so I got out. That’s all.”

“You got out, like…”

“Nothing dramatic. He just wasn’t who I thought he was going to be,” I explained, setting my coffee down and playing with my hair.

“So what happened?”

“Oh, you know how it goes. We were together when I was a senior at Berkley, and he was finishing up law school. It started out great, and then it wasn’t, and so I left. He did teach me how to rock climb, so I’m grateful for that.”

“A lawyer, huh?”

“Yep, and he wanted a little lawyer wife. I should have caught on when he referred to my future career plans as a ‘little decorating business.’ He really just wanted someone who looked good and picked up his shirts from the cleaners on time. Not for me.”

“I don’t know you that well yet, but I can’t really see you in the suburbs somewhere.”

“Ugh, me either. Nothing wrong with the ’burbs, just not for me.”

“You can’t move to the ’burbs. Who would bake for me?”

“Pfft, you just want to see me in my apron.”

“You have no idea,” he said, winking.

“It’s hard to get everything you need from one person. You know what I mean? Wait, of course you do. What was I thinking?” I laughed, gesturing to him.

We both jumped at the knocking on my door across the hall. The maintenance guy had finally arrived.

“Thanks for the coffee, and the shower, and the pipe rescue,” I said, stretching as I walked toward the door. I nodded at the guy in the hallway and held up one finger to let him know I’d be right there.

“No problem. It wasn’t the nicest way to wake up, but I suppose I deserved that one.”

“Indeed. But thank you anyway.”

“You’re welcome, and thanks for the bread. It was great. And if another loaf happens to make its way over here, that would be okay.”

“I’ll see what I can do. And hey, where’s my sweater?”

“Do you know how expensive those are?”

“Pffft, I want my sweater!” I cried, slapping him in the chest.

“Well, as it happens, I did bring you something—a sort of thanks-for-kicking-my-door present.”

“I knew it. You can drop it off later.” I walked across the hall to let the guy in. I directed him toward the kitchen and turned back to Simon.

“Friends, huh?”

“Looks that way.”

“I can live with that.” I smiled and closed the door.

As the maintenance guy went about fixing the problem, I wandered to my bedroom to check on Clive. Just as I entered, my phone buzzed. A text from Simon already? I grinned and flopped down on the bed, snuggling a still-freaked-out kitty to my side. He began to purr instantly.

You never answered my question…

I felt my skin heat up as I realized what he was referring to. I was suddenly warm and a little tingly, like when your foot falls asleep, but all over.

And in a good way. Damn, he gave great text.

About whether I’m fucking anyone?

Jesus, you’re crass. But yes, friends can ask that, can’t they?

Yes they can.

So?

You’re kind of a pain in the ass. You know this, right?

Tell me. Don’t get shy on me now.

As it happens, no. I’m not.

I heard a thud from next door, and then a slight but constant banging on the wall.

What the hell are you doing? Is that your head?

You’re killing me, Nightie Girl.

As soon as I finished reading, the banging resumed. I laughed out loud as he thumped his head against the wall. I placed my hand on the wall over my bed where the thumping was concentrated and chuckled again. What a strange morning…

Chapter Ten

I SAT IN MY OFFICE, gazing out the window. I had a list of things to do in front of me—and it wasn’t a small list either. I needed to run by the Nicholson house. The renovation was almost complete. The bedroom and bathroom were finished, and just a few details remained. I needed to get some new sample books from the design center. I had a meeting with a new client Mimi had referred to me, and on top of all that, I had a folder full of invoices to go through.

But still, I gazed out the window. I might have had Simon on the brain. And for good reason. Between the pipe explosions, the head banging, and the constant texting all day Sunday asking for more zucchini bread, my brain simply could not expunge him. And then last night, he brought out the big guns: he Glenn Miller-ed me. He even knocked on the wall to make sure I was listening.

I put my head down on the desk and banged it a few times to see if it helped. It had seemed to help Simon…

That night I went straight to yoga after work and was climbing the stairs to my apartment when I heard a door open from above.

“Caroline?” he called down to me.

I grinned and continued up the stairs. “Yes, Simon?” I called up.

“You’re home late.”

“What, are you watching my door now?” I laughed, rounding the last landing and staring up at him. He was hanging over the railing, hair in his face.

“Yep. I’m here for the bread. Zucchini me, woman!”

“You’re insane. You know this, right?” I climbed the last stair and stood in front of him.

“I’ve been told. You smell nice,” he said, leaning in.

“Did you just sniff me?” I asked incredulously as I opened the door.

“Mmm-hmm, very nice. Just get back from a workout?” he asked, walking in behind me and closing the door.

“Yoga, why?”

“You smell great when you’re all worked up,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me like the devil.

“Seriously, you pick women up with lines like that?” I turned away from him to take off my jacket and squeeze my thighs together maniacally.

“It’s not a line. You do smell great,” I heard him say, and I closed my eyes to block out the Simon Voodoo currently making Lower Caroline curl in on herself.

Clive came bounding out of the bedroom when he heard my voice and stopped short when he saw Simon. Unfortunately, he had little traction on the hardwood floor and skidded rather ungracefully under the dining room table. Trying to regain his dignity, he executed a difficult four-foot leap from a standing position onto the bookshelf and waved me over with his paw. He wanted me to come to him—typical male.

I dropped my gym bag and sauntered over. “Hi, sweet boy. How was your day? Hmm? Did you play? Did you get a good nap? Hmm?” I scratched behind his ear, and he purred loudly. He gave me his dreamy cat eyes and then turned his gaze to Simon. I swear he cat-smirked at him.

“Zucchini bread, huh? You want some more, I take it?” I asked, throwing my jacket on the back of a chair.

“I know you have more. Simon says gimme it,” he deadpanned, making his finger into a gun.

“You’re oddly into your baked goods, aren’t you? Support group for that?” I asked, walking into the kitchen to locate the last loaf. I might have been saving it for him.

“Yes, I’m in BA. Bakers Anonymous. We meet over at the bakery on Pine,” he replied, sitting down on the stool at the kitchen counter.

“Good group?”

“Pretty good. There’s a better one over on Market, but I can’t go to that one anymore,” he said sadly, shaking his head.