Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(50)

“My question exactly. You got anything to eat?”

“Some leftover pad thai, but it’s starting to grow hair, so I can’t recommend it.”

“I’m ordering a pizza. How do you like it?”

Maybe it was because she was practically naked and didn’t like his attitude, or maybe she was just an idiot because she settled a hand on her hip, slid her eyes over him, and let the words slide off her tongue. “I like it hot …and…spicy.”

His eyelids dropped to the V of her robe. “Exactly what Raoul told me.”

She beat a hasty retreat for the stairs. His low chuckle accompanied her all the way to the top.

She took her time changing into her last pair of clean shorts and a vintage blue camie top with a lacy insert that nestled in what passed for her cleavage. Just because she had to be on guard didn’t mean she couldn’t look good. She dusted bronzing powder over her cheeks, dabbed on lip gloss, then ran a big-tooth comb through her hair, where a few rebellious corkscrews had already begun framing her face like Christmas curling ribbon.

When she got downstairs, Heath was in her office tilted back in her chair, his crossed ankles propped on her desk, and her receiver tucked under his chin. His eyes took in her lacy cleavage, then her bare legs, and he smiled. He was messing with her again, and she didn’t let herself make anything out of it.

“I know, Rocco, but she’s only got ten fingers. How many diamonds can she wear?” As he listened to the response at the other end of the line, he frowned. “Listen to the people who care about you. I’m not saying she isn’t for real, but give it a couple more months, okay? We’ll talk next week.” He slammed down the phone and dropped his feet to the floor. “Bloodsuckers. They see these guys coming and take them for all they’re worth.”

“These would be the same guys who stand in hotel lobbies pointing their finger at the bloodsuckers and going you, you, and you? Then ten minutes later they’re explaining all the reasons they won’t wear a condom.”

“Yeah, well, there’s definitely that.” He picked up the beer he’d swiped from her refrigerator. “But some of these women are unbelievable. The guys might be tough while they’re on the field, but once the game’s over, it’s a different story. Especially the younger ones. Suddenly all these beautiful women are coming on to them and saying they’re in love. The next thing you know, the boys are giving out sports cars and diamond rings for one-month anniversary presents. And don’t get me started on the bottom feeders who get pregnant so they can squeeze out hush money.”

“Again, nothing a condom wouldn’t take care of.” She picked up a blue plastic watering can and carried it over to Nana’s African violets.

“The guys are young. They think they’re invincible. I know in Annabelle Land everybody’s nice and sweet, but there are more avaricious women in the world than you can imagine.”

Annabelle stopped watering to gaze at him. “Did one of those avaricious women find her way into your pockets? Is that why you’re so picky?”

“By the time I’d earned enough to be a target, I’d learned how to watch out for myself.”

“Just out of curiosity …Have you ever been in love? With a woman,” she said hastily, so he didn’t start throwing the names of his clients at her.

“I was engaged in law school. It didn’t work out.”

“Why not?”

“The pain’s too fresh for me to revisit,” he drawled.

She made a face at him, and he smiled. His cell rang. As he answered, she realized he looked more at home sitting at her desk than she did. How did he manage it? Somehow, he found a way to mark whatever space he occupied. He might as well lift his leg when he walked into a room.

She finished watering the African violets and headed for the kitchen, where she unloaded Nana’s cranky dishwasher. The doorbell rang, and a few moments later Heath appeared with the pizza. She gathered up plates and napkins. He retrieved another beer for himself and one for her and carried them over to the table.

As he sat, he gazed at the blue enameled cupboards and Hello Kitty cookie jar. “I like this place. It’s homey.”

“Tactfully phrased. I know I should update, but I haven’t gotten around to it.” She could barely afford paint, let alone a major remodeling.

They began to eat, and the silence that settled over them was surprisingly comfortable. She wondered what he was doing for the Fourth tomorrow. He polished off his first slice and took another. “How is it, Annabelle, that you’ve managed to get close to the two people who are most important to me right now? What is it with you?”

“Natural charm coupled with the fact that I have a life, and you don’t.” Not much of a life. On Wednesday night, Mr. Bronicki had bullied her into attending the seniors’ potluck at the rec center. She’d only agreed after he’d promised to take Mrs. Valerio out again.

Heath swiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “What did Robillard say about me?”

She nibbled on her crust. This, she reminded herself, was the reason he’d suggested their cozy dinner party. “He said you’re numero uno on his do-not-call list. Pretty much a direct quote. But you probably already know that.”

“And what did you tell him?”