Page 43 of Gin & Trouble

Dante must have noticed because he cleared his throat. “Are you sure you can go without until then?”

“I’m not planning to leave this apartment.” I turned and walked into the living room with him on my heels.

Dante seemed to have more to say, but shook his head. “Why don’t you take the bed? I’m telling you, that sofa is like sleeping on a lumpy park bench.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.” I toed off my shoes, slipped out of my cardigan, and sat. He wasn’t kidding about the couch. It looked soft but felt like leather-covered concrete.

He gave me a slow once over. Judging by the heat in his stare, I wasn’t the only one having a physical reaction. “I’ll get you something to sleep in.”

Before I could respond, Dante disappeared down the hall. His concern for my comfort gave me a warm fuzzy feeling. A warm fuzzy feeling with the potential to ruin me.

What was I thinking coming here? Kissing him?

Too nervous to sit, I called Iris.

“Julia. Where are you? I stopped by your house today and no one was home.” She seemed nervous—then again, this was Iris. The woman lived on Red Bulls and sugar.

“I’m staying with Dante for a while. There’s some trouble with my brother—”

“Dante? As in Dante-inferno-in-my-pants Marchionni?”

“There will be no fires, but yes.” I wandered to his bookcase and skimmed the titles. The books were a mixture of technical manuals and classic novels, a far cry from the comics in his Batcave. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was in someone else’s apartment. Everything from the ultra-modern coffee table to the stiff leather couch seemed generic. Expensive, expertly designed, but…bland.

Iris sighed and lowered her voice. Weird considering she lived alone. “Is this a good idea? I mean, he lied to you. Can you really trust him?”

“It’s just for a few days.” I loved her. She was my only friend in New Orleans. But I instantly regretted telling her what had happened the weekend of the gaming convention. “Can you do me a favor? Could you swing by my house and pick up my overnight bag? It’ll be by the door. You still have the key, right?”

“Sure, sure. I can do that, but you should stay with me. I don’t trust anyone who’s that rich and handsome. He’s going to break your heart again.”

Dante returned wearing a pair of low-slung PJ pants and a dark T-shirt.

One look at the way the cotton stretched across his chest and his messy curls, and my nipples hardened.

I’m in trouble. Big trouble. Maybe I should stay with Iris.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay here for a few days. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure. See you then.”

I disconnected the call. “That was Iris. She said she’d get my things for me.”

“That’s good.” He handed me a pair of basketball shorts, sweats, a T-shirt, and a men’s undershirt. “I wasn’t sure if you preferred thick pajamas or if you slept hot.”

“Thanks.” I took the clothes from him without confirming or denying what I liked to sleep in. “You don’t spend much time out here, do you?”

“Not really. I pretty much live in my office.” He glanced around the boring room. “I’m looking forward to getting my own digs once I open my company.”

The glint in his eye made me nervous. I couldn’t tell if he was excited about the new business venture, or what it could mean for our relationship.

Leave it to Sophia to come up with an easily dodge-able lie.

I needed to put some distance between us before I lost the battle of wills with my body. Again. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He gave me one last curious glance and walked down the hall.

I had no idea how long I stared at the ceiling thinking about Dante sprawled out in what I imagined to be a king-sized bed. My sex-deprived brain conjured up delicious images of dark skin on darker sheets. His hair a mess, his expression boyish and innocent with sleep. His body all man and anything but innocent.

To distract myself, I pulled out my phone and sent Sophia a text.

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