Page 75 of Valentine Nook
I shake my head. I’m not getting into this conversation now. “Okay, time for you to sleep. Can you email me the picture?”
“No problemo, doing it now.”
“Thanks. Night, Ash. Let me know if you get any more queries.”
I sit on the edge of the tub and wait for my email to ding with the picture Ashley sent, opening it the second it does.
There it is plain as day. Evidence thatitis definitelynotnothing.
There’s no denying it. There I am, staring up at Lando like he’s the jelly in my donut.
I’ve been caught unawares plenty of times, but those pictures have rarely told any more of a story than:
“Holiday Simpson Walks Down The Street Next To Someone.”
This is more in the region of:
“Irrefutable Proof That Holiday Simpson Absolutely Has The Hots For Her Landlord And Wants To Climb Him Like A Tree.”
Lando’s hand is resting on my back, and the other is on the doorframe as he guides me into the car, and we’re both laughing.
I know the exact moment this was taken. It was when I was trying to figure out who this suited and booted version of Lando was. While I want to be mad, I can’t because all I see is how he’s looking at me and how happy I seem.
Would it be inappropriate to use it as my screensaver?
Shooting off an email to Patty telling her exactly what I told Ashley—that it’s nothing and not to be commented on—I finish brushing my teeth.
Then it dawns on me that I’m going to have to tell Lando, and my panic reappears because I have no idea how he’ll react.
Is he going to be mad?
Will he regret kissing me?
Have I blown my chance with him?
I’m working through all possible scenarios when a loud knocking sounds on the front door. Another equally loud and insistent knock follows it.
Why is everyone up so freaking early today? I haven’t even had my coffee.
The third time has me hurrying down the stairs, andbecause my morning decided to go to shit, I slip on the wonky step. I should have stayed in bed.
If I hadn’t grabbed the banister, I’d have bumped my ass all the way to the bottom.
“Fucking bag of dicks,” I screech, shaking out my elbow, which has lost all feeling. “Ouch,fuck.”
Flinging the door open, Lando has one hand raised, and the other’s holding a huge bouquet of roses.
Black riding pants are hugging his thighs so tightly they should be illegal—the thighs and the pants. The loose black tee isn’t much better because it falls exactly right to emphasize the tightness of his chest and the thick vein running the length of his bicep.
The black baseball cap is a step too far because under the shadow of the peak, his eyes are even more piercing than usual. His scent is like a hit of dopamine straight into my brain.
I still don’t know what time it is, but it’s far too early forthis.
My good mood is officially gone.
“Are you okay?” Lando asks, concern all over his face.
“Oh, yeah.” I rub at the pain throbbing through my arm. “The stairs are wonky. I always trip on the step.”
