on a pair of sweatpants one-handed.
“Shit,” he mutters.
I hold the phone away from my mouth. “He told Brie about your...accident.”
Jake scrubs a hand over his freshly shaved jaw. “I should have known he couldn’t keep his trap shut. I didn’t want her to worry about me.”
“Are you still there?” Brie asks as I bring the phone back up to my face.
“I’m here,” I assure her. “What do you want me to do?”
I know what I want to do. Jake. But I doubt that’s what his sister has in mind.
“I’ve been trying to reach him, but he’s not answering his phone. Can you check on him for me? Make sure he’s okay on his own? Connor said the doctor recommended someone stay with him for a few days until his shoulder was feeling stronger, but my brother, in typical alpha male fashion, nixed that idea. Connor even offered to get him a home health aide, but he said he didn’t want some stranger in his space.”
I look over at him. He’s sitting on the corner of the bed, fighting to get a T-shirt on over his sling. Stubborn idiot. “Yeah, that sounds like Jake.”
“What sounds like me?” he asks through the shirt that’s now covering his face.
“Tell you what.” I speak into the phone, ignoring him. “I’ll do better than that.”
What I’m about to propose is either the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had or the most dangerous. Or both. I take a deep breath and plunge forward.
“I’m not a stranger. I’ll stay with him.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jake
“ARE YOU SURE this is everything?” I eye the stack of bags by the door. “You don’t have another, say, ten suitcases with the doorman downstairs?”
It’s the day after Ainsley announced that she’s moving in with me, and now I understand why it took her twenty-four hours to get her stuff together. Hell, I’m surprised she was able to do it that fast.
“It’ll do for now.” For now? “If I need to, I can always grab more stuff from my place.”
“You mean there’s more where all this came from?” The bag on top of the pile starts to teeter, and I reach out my lone remaining functional hand to steady it. “I find that hard to believe.”
She cocks her head and shoots a meaningful glance my way. “It’s nice to see being an invalid hasn’t made you lose your sense of humor.”
“I’m not an invalid,” I protest. “I can take care of myself. Even with one hand strapped to my chest.”
“If that’s true, then why did you agree to let me stay?” she asks.
“Because if I didn’t, my sister would have been on a plane to JFK faster than you could say overprotective.”
And because if we’re living under the same roof, maybe there’s a chance we’ll finally finish what we started in the kitchen. And the bathroom.
She gives me a saucy smirk. “Funny, that’s not the way I see it. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have a face full of way-past-five-o’clock-shadow right now instead of that sexy stubble you’re sporting.”
I see her smirk and raise her a cheeky grin. “You think my stubble is sexy?”
If she says yes, I’m keeping it, no matter how goddamn itchy it is.
But she doesn’t say yes. Then again, she doesn’t say no, either. Instead, she snatches up one of the bags and blows past me into my apartment. Roscoe, who’s snoozing on the sofa—even though his dog bed is mere feet away in front of the fireplace—lifts his head to see what all the commotion is about. He looks around briefly, then lets it fall back down onto the cushion with a loud whoosh, apparently not interested enough in what’s going on to stir from his slumber.
Lazy fuck.
“Where do you want me to put my stuff?” Ainsley asks as she descends the three steps that lead from the entryway into the living area.
“I’ll show you your room.” With my good arm, I grab the suitcase on top of the stack and follow her. “Then you can settle in while I go make sure things are running smoothly at the club.”
I’m expecting a call from my contact in Miami. We’re close to signing on the dotted line for ten thousand square feet of rental space in the heart of South Beach. Then I’ve got to approve the new drink menu, order supplies for our first Big Apple Bollywood Blowout at the end of the month, hire a new bartender to replace the one who quit without notice last week...
Ainsley stops