Page 42 of Here & Now

“He’s kind of…sleazy. You don’t have to take my word for it, though. It’s your decision.”

For some reason, she trusted him on this. After all, he’d lived here all his life and knew a lot of people. “Who would you recommend?”

He rattled off some names, and on the fourth one, she stopped him. “Those are all women.”

“So?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that just a coincidence, or do you know these women personally?”

“Are you asking if I had sex with them?”

It was none of her business whether he’d slept with all or none of them. If the person was a good real estate agent, that was all that mattered.

“Never mind. Just write down a couple of the names on here.” She slid the notepad and pen toward him.

“Isn’t this your writing notepad?”

“I have a hundred more just like that.” She wasn’t exaggerating.

He flipped the notepad to a blank page, jotted down some names, and closed the cover.

“I should probably let you get back to work.” He pushed the chair back and stood.

For some reason, she was disappointed he was leaving, even though she was the one who’d fudged the truth about her evening plans.

“What are you up to tonight?” she said, trying to sound casual.

“I might meet up with Marco and some friends later.”

She wondered if, by “friends,” he meant women, but she didn’t ask. “Well, have fun.”

“Yep. See you later.”

She watched him go, and after hearing his patio door close, she let out an audible sigh. Why did she get so flustered around him? It was ridiculous, really, especially when he was just trying to be nice.

He hadn’t done anything rakish, to borrow a word from the historical romance novels she read. On the contrary, he’d been the perfect gentleman. All he’d done was hand her a towel and compliment her writing. If he’d glanced at her nipples, she didn’t blame him. If their roles had been reversed, she would have noticed too.

I need to get a grip. She shouldn’t be falling all over herself every time he was near, even if he was swoon worthy, to borrow another term from her books.

She idly picked up the notepad and opened it to the page he’d written on. His handwriting was surprisingly legible for a guy. She scanned the list of names until she came to the bottom of the page. There he’d written his name and phone number, and in parenthesis, he’d added: Just in case.

Just in case what? In case her bike got another flat tire? In case someone tried to break into her house? In case she was lonely and needed someone to talk to? In case she wanted a booty call? Wait, what?

She shook her head. Maybe he is a bit of a rake after all.