through over the past few years…” He paused, and I wondered if the horror reel of my ex-girlfriends was playing in his mind the way it was in mine. “I don’t blame you. Just be careful, man. Any relationship that starts on a lie…”
“I know,” I said, not wanting him to continue that thought. It was one I’d beaten into my skull enough times over the past twenty-four hours that I didn’t need him to echo it. Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to keep it from Belle forever… just until I could gauge more about who she was and what she wanted. “She should be here soon. I’ll give you a call later this week.”
“Good luck, my friend.”
When we ended the call, I checked on the ribs cooking in the oven — far from my favorite way to cook them, but without a grill on my patio yet, I didn’t have much choice. I’d gone out after my workout this morning to buy everything I’d need to make dinner, but had decided not to get more than just what I needed — mostly because I knew Belle had a plan for my place, and I didn’t want to screw that up.
Thinking about her being here often, putting her hands on everything, leaving her mark… it gave me a thrill I couldn’t explain.
I checked my appearance one more time in the mirror, turned on my favorite jazz playlist, and finally let my mind wander to the absolute enigma that was Belle Monroe.
When I walked into Monroe Designs, I expected to discuss furniture. I expected to answer questions about what kind of art I was into and the importance of chi. I expected to cut a check and set a date for the work to begin. I expected it to be a quick meeting before I had lunch and my first off-season, low-key workout with Gerald, the second-string quarterback for the Chicago Bears.
I never expected Belle Monroe.
The moment her office door swung open and I found her on the other side of it, I was swept up in everything that she was. Her long, copper-blonde hair had been curtained over her shoulders, which were tall and straight, her bow-shaped lips curved into the slightest smile as I stepped into her space. Her eyes were a delicate mixture of crystal blue and sea green, and they seemed to shift in the light, changing back and forth between the colors until I decided there was no possible way to say which one was more dominant. She was tall, and slim, and she held herself with an air that told me she took no shit.
The way I was instantly enamored by her was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
It was like I’d been struck by Cupid’s arrow.
I wanted her from that very first moment, and when she didn’t recognize me, when she didn’t question my lie about being in real estate, the hope in my heart bloomed like a lotus out of the mud.
Now, I realized I was getting ahead of myself. I just met the girl. She could be boring, or a psycho, or completely pleasant but just not my type. We could be looking for different things. She could change her mind and decide dating a client is completely off-limits. It was ludicrous that we hadn’t even had our first date and already I was imagining her as my girlfriend.
But for the first time in years, I didn’t feel like a piece of meat, and I didn’t feel like just a friend, either.
It was like the Goldilocks just right girl had fallen into my lap, like the reason everything before now hadn’t worked out had just walked into my life.
And I was determined to play my cards right so I could keep her long enough to find out if I was correct in that assumption.
I blew out a breath, adjusting the cuffs of my long-sleeve button-up so they rested just below my elbows, and praying like hell that I could pull tonight off. Volunteering to cook dinner for us had been a risky choice, but I wanted to impress her — and if I knew anything by my first meeting with Belle, it was that she’d seen it all.
If I wanted to impress her, I’d need to play my best cards first.
Unfortunately, as much as I loved to cook, I wasn’t exactly good at it. My mom had joked all my life that I could burn water, and though I’d managed to