The Feel Good Factor(21)

This intel intrigues me. I take a drink of wine. “Is that so?”

His eyes travel along my body. “She might have mentioned yesterday that there was a pretty cop who worked at the market.”

I might love Jodie even more, this baked goods goddess I hardly know. “Pretty cop? I’m flattered.”

He takes another swallow, his eyes never looking away. “And I might have mentioned to her that I’d been pulled over by the prettiest cop in the entire universe.”

Laughing, I roll my eyes. “And now you’re just trying to butter me up to get me to let you stay.”

“If I were trying to butter you up, I’d have brought some of the bread. Anyway, it’s the God’s honest truth. What can I say? I wanted you from the second you pulled me over.”

Is there any word sexier than want? My skin tingles, and my bones hum from the boldness with which he owns his desire.

But this predicament isn’t about desire.

It’s about choices and circumstance, and, well, those pesky things known as bills. I sidestep his comment. “And it’s not working out staying with her?”

“She’s got three kids, and there are no extra rooms. I’ve been sleeping on the couch, so I’m looking for a place somewhere else to stay.”

“It’s tough to find rentals in this town,” I say sympathetically. “The housing situation in California is insane, especially in wine country. It’s hard for me as a regular person—news flash, I’m not making Mrs. Monopoly jack as a cop—to live here. The only reason I can is that my mom’s aunt gave this place to Shaw and me when she passed away. She didn’t have any kids of her own, and the mortgage is mostly paid. I don’t know what I’d have done without her generosity.”

Derek nods then takes a drink. “It’s settled, then. I’ll set up a bonfire and make an offering to the rental gods that a generous aunt will come out of the woodwork and give me her cute little cottage.”

“Derek,” I say, a little sad.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t say your name?”

“Don’t say it like that. With sympathy.”

I lift my chin. “Hey. I’m badass. I don’t have a sympathetic bone in my body.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. No sympathy, no mercy. I will find another place. It only took me a week or so to find this one, so I’m sure I’ll unearth something else just as fantastic.” His gaze wanders around my kitchen—it is definitely a cute home.

“How long was the agreement for?”

“We did a month-to-month.”

I reach into the photo album in my mind, thinking of all the rental signs I’ve seen.

Hardly any.

Then again, I didn’t post a sign. Rentals in this town are a landlord’s prerogative. I get to pick and choose because I have what others want—real estate to lease. I honestly don’t know of any other studios, apartments, or rooms over garages. “What is it you do for a living?”

“I’m a paramedic.”

“Oh God,” I say with a groan. “Couldn’t you have just said ‘billionaire’ so I could kick you out and not feel bad?”

“Sorry, kitten. I’m your regular blue-collar Joe. I’ve got some money saved, and a retirement plan, but for the most part, what you see is what you get.”

What I see is damn attractive.

What I see is downright appealing.

I can feel the wine weaving its way through and softening me.

We’re not that different. We’re two adults trying to make a living helping people. We’re not oozing money, but we want to serve the community. Taking a deep breath, I say, “Look, we can be adults, right?”

He scoffs. “What do you mean?”

“We’re not animals.”

He raises both brows in a question. “Speak for yourself.”

“Well, if you were an animal, I’m sure you’d be a leopard.”

“Jaguar,” he says with a grin.

“Okay, jaguar. Hear me out. I’m not trapping you. You’re not trapping me. We’re both mature. We’ve already acknowledged we aren’t looking to date or have a relationship, right?”

He nods emphatically. “Relationships are not on the radar.”

“But doing our jobs is. I have a room above the garage that has a separate entrance. There’s an entryway that leads upstairs, and the other door leads to the kitchen. I need to rent it to pay my bills. You need a place to stay in an expensive town. You’re here to help your sister and the community. I’m here to help the community. We’ll be better at doing our jobs if we don’t have to worry about paying bills or shitty couches that give us a crick in the neck.”

He lifts a hand, absently stroking his neck. “How’d you know I have a crick in my neck?”

“I’ve never met a couch that’s comfortable to sleep on.”

He takes a drink of his wine, looking like he’s considering this. When he sets it down, his eyes sparkle. “I hear there’s a king-size bed in the room above the garage.”

“Please. It’s not just a king-size. It’s a memory foam king-size.”

He groans, and the sound is carnal and delicious. “Fuck, Perri. You’re tempting me.”