Irresistible. Сьюзен Мэллери

opened her mouth, then closed it. What was the point of trying?

      “I’ll be right back,” she said, then yelled into the living room. “Zoe, dinner’s ready. Please go wash your hands.”

      “Okay, Mommy.”

      Once again Elissa climbed the stairs. She walked briskly across the small landing and knocked firmly on the door. No way she was going to let him know she felt embarrassed by their previous conversation. Nope, except for the fact that she was cooking for him, she was going to pretend it never happened.

      He opened the door. “Hello, Elissa.”

      Sometime in the past three or four days, she’d forgotten what he looked like. Oh, sure, she could have picked him out of a lineup and been confident he was her neighbor, but she’d lost track of the specifics.

      She hadn’t remembered how his dark eyes seemed to observe everything without giving anything away. How his strong features made her want to trust him instantly or that his mouth was both stern and intriguing.

      He looked solid, steady…dependable. All very appealing traits, given her history with men.

      “Hi. You never took the money.” She thrust the five dollars at him and held her arm steady until he took it from her.

      “Thanks. You didn’t have to—”

      She cut him off with a flick of her wrist. “I did have to. It helps me sleep at night. I also wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding. I jumped to not very flattering conclusions and I shouldn’t have.”

      “I realize how that could have happened.”

      She wondered if that was true or if he was just being polite. And then she wondered how his skin would feel if she touched his arms. Was it rough or soft? Did the muscles yield at all or were they—

      She mentally put on the brakes and smiled brightly so he wouldn’t guess what she was thinking. Dear God, what was wrong with her? She’d seen plenty of good-looking men before. Some even in person. But she’d never reacted like this. It was worse than feeling guilty. Which meant she should get to the point.

      “I made chili,” she said. “You mentioned smelling my cooking and wanting to trade what I owe you for that. I’m all right with that. So I made chili and corn bread. There’s pie left, but you probably still have some of your own, so I don’t know how interesting blueberry pie would be. Although I have ice cream. It was on sale. Chocolate chip. Zoe and I do the chocolate thing.”

      When she realized she was babbling, she pressed her lips firmly together, then cleared her throat.

      “My point is, you’re welcome to join us.” Hmm, that didn’t sound right. “Mrs. Ford is already downstairs. This isn’t anything but payback. I’m not asking you out or anything. I don’t date. Anyone. I don’t do anything else, either. I’m not issuing a challenge. I know some guys assume if a woman’s alone, it’s a challenge. I’m not. I’m not interested in getting involved or having a fling or anything like that. This isn’t a good time for me. Zoe’s really young and there are other complications.”

      Big ones, she thought, thinking that Neil was at least six feet and was never going to go away.

      “You’re saying you don’t want to date or have sex with me,” he clarified.

      “Right,” she agreed, before actually processing what he’d said.

      “Good to know.”

      His gaze never wavered and nothing about his expression changed. She wished she could say the same about herself, but no. Even as she stood there, she felt heat climbing her cheeks. No doubt she’d turned bright red. Perhaps because the poor man had never indicated he was interested in her at all. He’d asked for a meal, not a night of hot monkey sex.

      “Oh, God,” she breathed. “Not that you asked or anything. I’m just—”

      He held up one hand to stop her. “Elissa. Quit while you’re ahead.”

      “Good idea.”

      “I get the message.”

      “Yippee.”

      “I understand why you said it. I respect your honesty. Sleep easy. I won’t make a pass at you.”

      Which should have made her happy, but she wasn’t sure if he was being agreeable or making fun of her. If only she could slink away and start this day over.

      She cleared her throat. “Did you want some chili and corn bread?”

      “Yes, but I’ll come down and get a plate. I don’t want to disturb your dinner plans.”

      “You mean you want the food but you won’t be joining us?”

      “Is that a problem?”

      A surprise maybe, but not a problem. “Whatever you’d prefer.”

      “Okay. Let me grab a bowl and a plate and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

      “You don’t have to do that. I have plates.”

      “This way I don’t have to return them.”

      She winced. Definitely mocking her, she thought glumly. Truth be told, she’d earned it. She turned and walked down to her apartment.

      Easy solution, she thought. She’d stop talking to the man. That would increase her odds of not making a fool out of herself. She would also add to her “next life” list. In addition to money, she seriously needed to explore the possibility of being slightly less outspoken.

      THE ALARM RANG at 4:00 a.m., as it did every weekday morning. Elissa got up immediately—she’d learned her body cooperated better while it was still in shock over the predawn hour. If she hit the snooze button, she was at risk of never getting out of bed.

      She showered, then wrapped her hair in a towel while she applied the barest touch of makeup. Tinted moisturizer, mascara, lip gloss. After dressing in her Eggs ’n’ Stuff uniform, she ran the blow-dryer until she’d passed from wet to damp, then combed her hair and put it in a quick ponytail. At four-thirty, she walked into the kitchen and inhaled the scent of brewing coffee.

      Whoever had invented timers on coffee machines deserved an award, or, at the very least, a star named in his or her honor. As Elissa reached for a mug, she heard a very distinct thump from overhead.

      The sound was loud and out of place. The moan that followed made her shiver.

      Something was going on upstairs. Something she should ignore. Except there was a second thump and a louder moan.

      What if Walker had fallen and hurt himself? He looked to be in too good a shape for that, but he could have slipped or fallen while drunk.

      She hesitated between not wanting to get involved and knowing she couldn’t leave Zoe until she knew everything was all right. After quickly checking on her daughter, who was still sleeping soundly, Elissa grabbed her trusty baseball bat from the hall closet and hurried upstairs.

      She knocked briskly, then announced herself in case he was in the throes of some war-induced hallucination. She didn’t want him to shoot or maim her in his confusion.

      When he didn’t answer right away, she knocked again, louder this time, then winced as the sharp sound cut through the quiet of the night.

      Finally the door opened. Walker stood there wearing nothing but rumpled pj bottoms. His chest was bare, he needed a shave, and for once his eyes weren’t hiding his feelings. He was amused as hell.

      “So much for not wanting to get into my bed,” he said.

      She glared at him. “You were thunking and moaning. It’s four-thirty in the morning. What was I supposed to think?”

      The humor faded. “Seriously?” he asked.

      “I do not make this stuff up.”