Hard Fall (Trophy Boyfriends #2) - Sara Ney Page 0,70

kitchen still needs some cleaning up and I transfer the take-out to glass bowls with lids; it’s Asian fusion and steaming hot. I hope she likes it. I ordered a shit ton, not knowing what her favorites would be but wanting to learn what they are.

I want to learn everything about her, she’s so damn adorable.

The look on her face when she saw me at the police station today was everything. Confusion, obviously—but also delight. Joy? Weird how someone can look visibly relieved. Her shoulders sagged when I touched her, wrapped my arms around her, and squeezed, something she’s never done.

I busy myself by double-checking the bathroom and pulling the quilt taut on my bed. It’s a big bed—a California King and extra long because I’m tall—but I don’t expect us to end up there.

Fine.

I’m hoping we will, but I’m not expecting it.

Pop my nose into the bathroom again and check on the bathwater. It flows from the ceiling—totally impractical, but super cool, I had to have it when I was shopping for houses. Had to. It’s so dumb, but something I thought kids would like.

My kids.

Three would be good. Or five. However many, getting cracking on a family would be swell.

Because I’m feeling extra romantic, I had candles delivered from Target through an app, and I start lighting them one by one, expecting Hollis to ring my doorbell any second now. No sense in waiting, as I intend for her to slip right into the bath.

Shit.

What if she thinks it’s bizarre instead of romantic that I want her to relax in the tub? What if she thinks I’m a pervert and just trying to get her naked? It’s not like I’m going to climb in with her, but there’s a nice ledge I could sit on so we can talk while she soaks. My plan is to pour a little bit of my heart out to her; the bubble bath seems like the perfect spot to listen from.

Again…is that weird?

The doorbell chimes as I light the last white candle. Guess I’m about to find out…

“Here goes nothing,” I say to no one, since I live alone.

Forever Alone, a new men’s fragrance, by Tripp Wallace.

That joke about my brother makes me laugh, and I’m chuckling when I make it to the front door, pulling it open with a smile. Take in a quick breath, because wow, is Hollis beautiful.

“Hi.” She’s standing on the stoop in a little floral dress and flip-flops, casual but feminine, comfortable, but put together. “I brought you these.”

She hands me a plate of chocolate chip cookies that still feel warm, and I hold them to my nose, sniffing. “Damn these smell almost as good as you.”

Can’t wait to eat them. And her.

I lean down when she steps up and into the house, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, and damn if she doesn’t surprise me by puckering her mouth for a kiss on the lips.

Whoa, and it’s a good one, too.

“How are you?” I lead her to the kitchen, setting the cookies on the counter while Hollis begins the classic snoop-around people do when they’re curious about your living situation. Her neck cranes to the doorway of the hearth room; it’s off my kitchen with a small fireplace and a TV, kind of like the den. Intimate and smaller and my favorite room in the house.

“This is nice,” she says, now with her nose in the powder room, which is also off the kitchen. “Do you clean this?”

“No. Jenny and Tiffani do every Monday.”

They’re my dynamic duo—they call themselves Grime Busters and love scrubbing. Weird, right?

“I like how there’s tile all the way up the wall.”

“I laid that tile myself,” I tell her, getting two wine glasses out of the cabinet and setting them down. Find the bottle of white in the fridge that’s been chilling and locate the corkscrew. “Wine?”

“Sure.”

“So, this might sound strange…”

Why is it hard for me to talk to this girl? She gets me all nervous!

“Everything you say is strange,” she teases. “Just say it.”

“I drew you a bath.”

Her brows shoot up; that’s the absolute last thing she’s expecting to come out of my mouth, something I’ve come to expect from her. “A bath? Why, do I stink?” She lifts her arm and sniffs her pits.

I make busy pouring a small glass of white wine for each of us and hand her one. “You smell delicious, but you had a bad day and I thought soaking would be nice.” In