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Now in a much better mood, she grabbed her tablet and padded to the immaculate and intimidating kitchen, determined to conquer it. A faint thump sounded from downstairs, letting her know her neighbor was home. She hadn’t yet been around to make an introduction, but it was on her list.
Prior investigations of the refrigerator had revealed two large hunks of cheese. Cheddar, which she recognized, and something mysterious named Gruyere, which she didn’t. But an idea had begun to germinate, and after verifying she had a bag of elbow pasta in her pantry, all that was needed was a recipe.
She picked up her tablet to google a recipe with the cryptic Gruyere. Multiple pages resulted. “Ok, now I’m in business. Even I should be able to make macaroni and cheese.”
Half an hour later, she had two large piles of grated cheese and one extremely sore arm. After glancing through the ingredients, she started pulling together the remaining items, thoroughly pleased with herself now. “Two cups of milk.” She pulled open the refrigerator and scanned the door. Many items were neatly arranged, but no milk. The interior shelves didn’t contain any, either. Her shoulders slumped at the memory of her drinking the last of the container the previous day.
There was a small market a mile away, but another thump from below gave her a different idea. “It might be cliché, but what better reason to meet my new neighbor?” She gave a momentary pause to consider her decidedly casual appearance, then shrugged. Who cares? It’s not like it’s anyone I know.
After grabbing a large measuring cup, she slipped into flip-flops, trotted down the steps, and knocked on the door. There was a doorbell, but knocking was friendlier. The sound of shuffling feet approached from the other side, and Sara fixed an expectant smile on her face as the door opened. The smile crashed to the floor when Jack stood facing her.
Oh shit! Are you kidding me?
His face went slack, and his jaw dropped as he stared at her. The two of them were silent for a long moment.
“Uh, hi, Sara.”
She blinked rapidly, trying to recover her composure. “I came downstairs to borrow a cup of milk. You live here?”
“Yeah. For a couple of months now. So, you’re my upstairs neighbor?” He just stood there, as if he were in shock.
A hot flush inflamed her face. “Yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll head to the store.” She was turning away when he called out.
“Sara, of course you can have some milk. There’s no reason to go all the way to the market. Come on in.”
With her face still mimicking the surface of the sun, she stepped over the threshold and stood in the doorway. Before her was a duplicate of her own apartment. Jack’s furniture was a very dark gray, and the entire area was neat and clean. Several charcoal drawings were scattered over the coffee table, and a closed sketchpad lay on the kitchen table. She schooled her face as she studied them, shocked that he had a creative bent.
He’s an artist? And a pretty good one, from the looks of these.
Jack returned to her with an open gallon of milk, walking with a soft, confident stride. A small smile lit his face. “What are you making?”
Sara stared at him. She’d noticed his large brown eyes before, but his thick hair and handsome features hadn’t fully registered until now. But those incredibly thick eyelashes! “Huh?” God, what is wrong with me? I can’t stand this guy. Why am I all tongue-tied?
“The milk. What are you making?”
“Oh. Macaroni and cheese.”
He grinned. “Kraft or Velveeta?”
Damn. Nice smile too.
Despite her best intentions, a smile escaped in return. “Neither, I’ll have you know. I’m making it from scratch.”
“Ah. A gourmet, then.” He took her measuring cup and walked back to the kitchen, placing it on the counter before pouring.
She followed, folding her arms on the cool quartz surface, and trying not to be charmed by his soft Texas twang. “Not really. My kitchen scares me to death, so I’m trying to show it who’s boss.”
Jack laughed, warm and carefree, and Sara wanted to hear it again. He met her gaze, breathing a low sigh. “I’m glad you’re here. I owe you an apology. Again. I was out of line this afternoon, and I’ve been feeling bad about it. I guess I’ve apologized for dumping water on you and almost breaking your nose, so what’s one more?”
Sara arched a brow. “Well, technically, you haven’t apologized for almost breaking my nose.”
“Can one apology cover two idiotic moves?”
She tilted her head back and forth. “Hmm, debatable. But I’ll let it slide. Maybe you should stay on that side of the counter, just to be safe.”
His eyes grew warm and the heat in her face started heading south. She dug her thumbnail into her thigh. Stop it! He’ll probably trip you next!
He dropped his gaze to her breasts, and his smile widened as he quickly raised his eyes back to hers. The warm flush fled, and Sara was getting ready to rip his head off when he said, “Nice shirt.”
