Page 51 of VOGUEish

As if mocking his willpower, Isabella swung open the door looking like a fucking ray of sunshine. The sight of her sent his imagination back down those avenues of lust. That was until she scowled and quickly glanced up and down the street, reminding him she didn’t want to be seen with him.

“Why are you here?” she demanded. “You can’t be here. Tonight’s the night the team is meeting across the street.”

“Nonna can’t make it so she asked me to fill in, since the contract with Sign-Man promised we would have a total of six.” He was pretty sure Nonna could have made it but had chosen not to. His initial thought when she had called was that she was still matchmaking. That was until she mentioned a blind date had been set up between Ryder and Isabella. When Chandler had asked for more details, she’d suddenly needed to take another call.

“Sandals in the snow,” Isabella muttered.

He added her quirky swear phrases to his list of things he liked about her.

She plopped a hand on her hip. “Like for the duration…or just tonight?”

“Just tonight, and I promise to act indifferent toward you in front of your colleagues. I have no intention of doing or saying anything that will lead to your not fitting in.”

“Un-freaking-believable.” She glanced at her watch. “Your just being there can lead to my not fitting in. Nonna could have sent any of fifty other workers at Naked Runway, and she chose you.”

“It’s not ideal. I get it. Just give me the keys, and I’ll meet you over there.”

Now that a date had been set between Isabella and Ryder, she was firmly off-limits. When his friend had called Chandler last night asking for details about the woman Nonna wanted to fix him up with, Chandler had told him she was available and worth pursuing. And more importantly, he’d told Ryder that he had no interest in Isabella other than as a friend. Which, even if it wasn’t true, should be true.

He’d not been lying when he told Isabella he’d never fallen in love. Wasn’t sure he had it in him to fall in love. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to give it the good ol’ college try with a woman like Isabella. She deserved a man as anxious to embrace forever after as her.

“The owner wouldn’t give me a key. He said he’d leave the door unlocked,” Isabella said.

“I’m looking forward to meeting him.” Now that he thought about it, this was probably why Nonna had sent him. To meet the neighbor and assess if Isabella was in danger.

Again, Isabella glanced up and down the street. “He doesn’t wish to interact with us.”

Fuck. Chandler glanced toward their meeting place. Today’s window announcement: Wear mismatched socks to keep the cameras from photographing you. “Nonna asked me to remind you not to forget that tomorrow morning you have to be at work early, and you’re to bring the pastries.”

Isabella grinned. “I’ll be there before the sun has awoken with its morning hard-on.”

Damn if that didn’t wake his cock up. Stuffing the urge to ask her for details about her upcoming date with Ryder, he instead turned and walked away. “See you there.”

At the meeting location, Chandler saw that the crime scene tape on the front door had been stripped off. When he stepped inside the large open space, the smell of weed and incense greeted him. He glanced around. The living area was identical to the space in Isabella’s loft, only not decorated. Two areas had been set up for their use. The office area…and the game area. Fuck. “Is that her ping-pong table?” How in the hell had she schlepped that thing across the street.

He heard a noise above them. The hermit was home. Was he up there smoking a joint? Would they all be high on second-hand fumes by the end of the evening? What color of panties had Isabella chosen to wear tonight? He turned his back to the table, allowed himself ten seconds to reminisce, and then forced his gaze to the office area.

“What do you think?”

He turned to find Isabella standing in the doorway. He cocked his head toward the ping-pong table. “How did you get that thing over here? And why?”

“Hired movers. And because studies shows that today’s young people work better in loose environments that have game tables and napping stations.”

“Seems a bit excessive for something that won’t last more than a couple of days.”

“Like us,” she quipped.

For several seconds, their gazes locked. Images of her losing article after article of clothing during the strip-shot ping-pong game ran in his brain like an IMAX movie.

She ran her tongue over her lips in a very slow, very sexy gesture.

“For Christ’s sake, stop that.” He broke the intimate glance. Damn, he wanted to fuck her tongue. And her. All of her. And why was it he’d said no to casual sex?

“Stop what? My lips are dry.”

“Nonna said you and Ryder had a date on the calendar.”

She sighed. “We do. He sounded perfectly lovely over the phone. Thanks for giving me a five-star rating.”

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