ONE
She needed to quit daydreaming about the guy downstairs.
Brienne Fox dropped her pen onto the table, barely hearing it roll off the edge and clatter onto the linoleum. The half-finished grocery list in front of her vanished from her thoughts like so much smoke. All she could hear was the key in the door, the footsteps...and the murmur of that dark, silken voice as he greeted what she assumed must be his cat. Not that sheâd spent too much time thinking about what might or might not be in his apartment. Or what he did while he was in there.
Or anything.
Brie closed her eyes and dug her hands into her hair, resting her elbows on the table and slumping a little as she castigated herself. Every day was the same. She was a perfectly normal, well-functioning human being until that car pulled into the driveway they shared. But as soon as she heard the steady hum of his sleek little sedanâs engine, all of her functioning brain cells dropped whatever they were doing to focus on one thing, and one thing only.
Him. Or more specifically, him naked and in one of a wide variety of compromising positions, all of which involved her.
It wasnât exactly productive, since Alistair Locke had barely given her the time of day the few times sheâd managed to bump into him. When speaking was almost out of the question, a torrid affair didnât seem all that likely.
Brie pushed back her chair, got up and wandered over to the window to look out at the fresh tire tracks in the snow-dusted driveway. Alistairâs car would be parked by her sand-andâsalt spattered SUV, as it always was, in the old carriage house that had been converted into a garage. Just as she had boxes of stuff next to his in the upper level of the garage. Unfortunately, her possessions got more time with him than she did. There was plenty of space for two people hereâalmost too much.
She hadnât been sure about renting an apartment in such an old house, no matter how beautiful it was. Sheâd had visions of lousy heat, electrical and plumbing issues, and of course, a resident ghost that would doubtless terrorize her into leaving anyway. But the place had sucked her in, from the high ceilings and gleaming wood floors to the big window that looked out on the wide street lined with old trees and stately old Victorians much like this one.
The upstairs was hers, apparently ghost-free, and she loved it. It was the perfect hiding place for somebody like her, a working writer who thrived on a certain amount of quiet and personal space. Of course, having Alistair downstairs had provided a little too much fodder for what was already an overactive imagination.
If she hadnât been so boringly normal in every other way, she might have been really concerned about herself instead of just uneasy. Sheâd liked guys before. Sheâd lusted after plenty of them. But this didnât feel quite...normal.
Brieâs eyes rose to the sky, and she found herself momentarily diverted. The snow clouds that had hung heavily on the horizon all day had darkened to an ominous slate-gray, and they seemed to be moving in swiftly. They were predicting that the massive norâeaster would start hitting by early evening. Sheâd promised herself sheâd get to the grocery store before the snow started falling, just in case. With luck, the power would stay on. Without luck...well, sheâd cross that bridge when she came to it.
And of course, Alistair had the only working fireplace in the house in his apartment....
Brie squared her shoulders and headed back to the table to grab the grocery list. Food first. Sheâd just figure the rest of it out as she went. And along the way, it would be nice if her mind could focus its energy on something actually productive, instead of creating scenarios with her neighbor that involved firelight and a soundtrack loaded with songs by Enigma.
Minutes later she was headed out the door and down the stairs, cozy in bulky boots and a heavy coat. She purposely avoided looking at the door to Alistairâs apartment. He never came out when she was around, and he wasnât going toâ
Oh God, there he is.
The door opened, and well over six feet of dark, shaggy, antisocial male walked out. Brie stopped short three steps from the bottom, so startled she could do nothing but stare. She rarely got this close to him...which was a shame, because up close, he was even more delicious than he was from a distance.