Page 3 of Gentle Fox

Mrs. Robbins crossed her arms and gave me the grandmother look. The one that screamed she was disappointed in me. I hated that look.

"You and I both know that fine gentleman out there wasn't asking questions just for the hell of it. He saw your apartment. You need to go out there and explain why you stood him up."

Betsy made it sound like Owen was my date rather than just someone who was supposed to interview me. And did she have to say he was fine looking? His voice alone had done crazy things to my lady bits. If he was attractive on top of it, that would be too much.

"I'm not going out there." I stomped my foot like the ungrateful brat my stepmother always called me.

"Yes, you are." Mrs. Robbins grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the corner. For an older woman, she was pretty damn strong.

And it wasn't like I could put up much of a fight. How would it look if I slapped her hand away? She would cry elder abuse and then I would feel like a jerk.

So there I was, not dragging my feet like I wanted to as she slipped the chain from the door and threw it open.

"My apologies,” Mrs. Robbins said. “I wasn't aware of who you were. Never can be too careful, but I believe this is the woman you were looking for."

I might not have been able to smack her hand away but that didn't stop me from throwing a dirty look at my neighbor.

The traitor.

What happened to always having my back? Obviously that didn't apply when handsome men came knocking, and damn, Owen was the sexiest man I had ever seen. Piercing blue eyes stared back at me. His salt-and-pepper hair was styled in a way that said he jumped out of the shower and ran his fingers through it. Then there was his nicely trimmed beard; the whiskers around his mouth hinted to the black his hair color used to be, but the more it climbed up his cheek, the grayer it got.

And that was just his face. I didn't even want to see what the rest of his body looked like. If his face was any indication, I was going to be a blubbering mess and I didn't have time for that. I needed to stand my ground.

"Annalee Bruce?"

"The one and only." I made sure to lace my tone with how I really felt about being forced into the hallway.

"Actually, there are several more scattered throughout the United States but you’re the only one in Baton Rouge."

Oh great. Not only was he attractive but sarcastic to boot. That was my frigging kryptonite.

"Was there something I could do for you?"

The faster I found out why he was here, the faster I could get rid of him. Owen would be detrimental to my health, and considering the only action my vagina saw these days was frommy dildo, I needed him to leave before I begged him to make me come just from his voice alone.

"Why didn't you show up for your interview?"

Was he serious? This man drove nearly eight hours to ask me why I didn't show up for my interview.

"I changed my mind."

It was clear he didn't believe me. I wouldn't have either considering it was only the partial truth.

"You changed your mind, or someone changed it for you?"

His insinuation further irked me. It didn't matter that he was on the right track. My apartment was proof of that. I looked over at my apartment door. I wish I could say what happened surprised me, but it didn't. Nothing about my current situation shocked me anymore. It was why I had been hell-bent on getting the out of the area, but once again, my choices were taken from me. It didn't matter where I moved, nothing would be different.

"Does it matter?"

Owen crowded my space just enough to make sure he had my attention, but not enough to appear threatening. It was crazy to think how easily he figured me out. Or maybe he was just used to dealing with women in precarious situations.

"It matters to me."

I had to fight to swallow. Suddenly my throat felt constricted.

"Why?" I pushed the one word out, but it was more of a wheeze than an actual question.

"Because everyone deserves to make their own choices and something tells me you haven't been able to do that lately."

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