Page 23 of All Jacked Up

“Hello again, Juliette,” he said in a husky voice.

I licked my suddenly very dry lips. “Um … hi.” I sounded as confused as I felt at the moment.

Why was Ransom in New York, and why was he at my apartment? How did he even know my address?

He shoved off the wall and dropped his arms from his chest, then did a quick glance around him. “NoHo, huh? Romancenovels must pull in a small fortune.”

As if the money I made writing compared to the money he came from.

“It was an investment,” I replied. Which wasn’t a lie. I’d gotten a good deal on it for this area of Manhattan.

“So, you don’t rent then,” he said.

I shook my head. “No. I lived in Jersey when I rented.” Because rent here was astronomical. It had made more sense to sink the advance I’d been given on my second book into a piece of real estate that wouldn’t lose its value.

“Definitely more affordable,” he replied as he moved closer to me.

I backed up a step as a reflex. “What, uh … what are you doing here?” I asked him, staring up at his face now that he was so close.

He smirked. “I guess saying that I was in the neighborhood isn’t believable, is it?”

No, since he lived in Mississippi and …

“How did you know where I lived?” I blurted.

His look of amusement was confusing. “Ah, Juliette, you’d be surprised by the things that I know,” he said, dropping his voice before stepping past me and walking right into my apartment.

Spinning around, I watched him with my mouth slightly agape as he continued on, not even glancing back at me.

I closed the door behind me while watching him survey my place as if he were an interested buyer.

“Come in, I guess,” I muttered, and he glanced back over his shoulder at me.

“Thanks,” he replied. “Think I will.”

Had Arden given him my address? But why would he do that?

I followed him as he walked toward the living and kitchen area, still in shock that this was happening. Ransom Carver was in my apartment. Like he’d been invited. As if he hadn’t been acomplete jerk to me last weekend. I’d hoped this weekend would be a quieter, less eventful one. But it was Saturday at noon, and it had just taken a turn I never expected. In fact, I’d been waiting for Ransom to respond to my last text that I’d sent around eight this morning.

Seemed he had been too busy traveling to Manhattan to do that.

“I’m sorry, but what are you doing here, in my apartment?” I asked him once I finally got a grasp on what was happening.

He stepped into the sunlit room, taking his time surveying the place as he turned around to face me. “I came for a visit. I thought that was obvious, Juliette.”

The lilt in his tone as he said my pen name wasn’t lost on me. What had he meant by that? Was he going to make fun of it some more? While standing in my apartment, uninvited?

“Yet I didn’t give you my address or invite you for a visit,” I bit back.

The glint in his eyes as he began to slowly look me over, as he had been doing to my apartment, gave me goose bumps. Dammit. What was wrong with me? This was Ransom. Who needed to leave. Who was here for God knew why. He didn’t like Juliette Romeo.

“You seem unhappy to see me,” he finally replied as his eyes met mine again.

My brows shot up. “We barely know each other,” I said, scrambling to follow along with his reasoning for being here.

He chuckled then and rubbed his scruffy, chiseled jaw with his thumb and forefinger. “Oh, I don’t know. I think we know each other pretty well. At least, I thought we did—until recently. Seems you were holding back on some things … Noa.”

I felt the blood literally leave my face as I stood there without words, staring at him. He knew. How did he know? Had Arden told him or Opal my real name? That had always been apossibility, but I thought when or if it happened, I’d get a text not … not him making an appearance in my apartment.

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