Love on Lexington Avenue(45)

She scrunched down farther in her chair, feeling decidedly dejected. “I don’t suppose you have any junk food in here?”

“Nothing good,” Naomi said, standing and grabbing her purse. “But there’s a place a couple of blocks away that has onion rings served with like five types of cheese sauce.”

“I can’t decide if that sounds amazing or disgusting.”

“Let’s just say it’s the second-best thing to sex. You in or out?”

“Oh, you mean since you just told me I can’t have sex?” Claire said, standing. “I’m in. I’m so in.”





Chapter Sixteen


THURSDAY, AUGUST 29

Claire was avoiding him. Scott wasn’t surprised. He’d been trying to give her the space she obviously wanted, even though he’d wanted to linger at her house last night, waiting until she returned home that evening. From wherever she’d run off to following their . . . interaction.

Today, too, he’d been patient about the fact that she pointedly walked out of any room that he entered. However, as he started packing up for the day and realized that she’d been upstairs for hours, he’d decided enough was enough. Scott had given her the better part of two days to think through whatever was going on between them, waiting for her to decide what would happen next. The ball was in her court, but damned if he wasn’t going to try to influence which way it went.

As always, he took the time to put everything in his workspace in its proper spot before finally washing his hands and calling it a night. He was pleased with the way the kitchen was coming along. It was down to the final touches now, and he planned to put those off awhile as he started on her living room. He had a few ideas but wanted to give himself the time and space to get it exactly right.

Scott headed to the base of the stairs, pausing and listening for any sign of her. “Claire?”

She didn’t respond, but he headed up the stairs anyway. His traitor of a dog gave him an excuse to seek her out. As promised, he’d been bringing Bob to the work site each day, and he was a little amused to see that woman and dog had taken to each other so thoroughly despite their rocky start. So much for canine loyalty. He didn’t mind. Scott had had years to figure out how to be alone. Claire was newer at it, and he was glad the dog gave her company.

“Claire? Bob?”

As he’d expected, his dog came bounding out of Claire’s bedroom, an unfamiliar stuffed animal in her snout. “Where’d you get that?” he muttered, wrestling the toy away from Bob and stepping into the open doorway of Claire’s bedroom without entering.

“Hey, Claire, I think Bob was well on her way to destroying . . .” He glanced down. “A pink baby dinosaur?”

Claire came out of the master bathroom, both hands to her earlobe as she put her earring in. “Oh, that’s Tooshie,” she said, nodding at the mangled ball of fluff. “I bought it for Bobsie at the pet store up the street.”

Tooshie? Bobsie?

But Scott had bigger things to worry about than his dog turning into a delicate princess, so he didn’t fight it when Bob jumped up and reclaimed the toy from Scott’s hand. Instead, he focused all of his attention on Claire, who looked . . .

Shit.

He tried to get a grip on the warning bells going off in his head at her appearance. He’d been half prepared for her to be a little frazzled and on edge at the unfinished business between them. He knew he was. He hadn’t counted on the simmer between them, couldn’t deny that it made him nervous.

But Claire didn’t look nervous. Or frazzled. She looked . . . hot. And very in control.

“That’s a hell of a dress,” he said. It was black, but nothing like the other black dress he’d seen her in. This one hit just south of mid-thigh, clung to all the right places, and was tied in bows at the shoulders in what managed to be both innocent and seductive.

“Oh. Thanks.” She glanced down and gave a little smile. “Naomi and I went shopping yesterday. I was trying for something in between my usual ‘funeral garb,’ as you called it, and the outfit you picked out for me. Not that I didn’t love the whole white shirt over the black bra look, but I think that was a onetime thing for me,” she said with a smile.

“For the record, I was a big fan of that look, but this works, too,” he said, his voice huskier than it had been a moment ago. What he wouldn’t give to step forward and tug at the bows on her shoulders. Would it allow the dress to pool at her feet the way he wanted it to? Would she be wearing the same black bra that had tortured the hell out of him that night at the bar?

Then reality stepped in and shoved his fantasy out of the way.

He met her eyes and forced himself to ask the question, “You going out?”

Claire’s expression flickered for the first time since he’d entered the room. She tried to cover it with a quick smile as she stepped back into the bathroom. “Yes, and I’m running a little late. How’s my makeup?”

Blood thrumming with suspicion alongside the arousal, Scott stepped into the bathroom doorway, watched as she applied something to her cheeks.

He didn’t give a shit about her makeup. “Is it a date?”

She snapped the compact shut and met his eyes in the mirror. “Sort of. I’m still not in the market for anything serious, but I’ve come to accept that I’m too old-fashioned to sleep with someone I just met. Guess I want to be wined and dined before I jump in the sack, even if it is just casual.”