But the day finally passed and she was due to arrive in forty-five minutes.
Thank God.
Stepping from the shower, he wrapped a towel around his hips then snagged another to towel-dry his hair. After shaving, he dressed in a blue polo shirt and his most comfortable jeans, then glanced around his bedroom. Bed neatly made, condoms stashed in the nightstand drawer. Perfect. Satisfied, he made his way to the den.
His box of truffles, or as he’d renamed them, “The Best Fifty Bucks He’d Ever Spent,” rested on the coffee table. He slipped a blues CD into the stereo, lowered the lights and found a pair of candles, which he set on the coffee table. The only thing missing was Carlie.
His gaze once again strayed to the clock. She was due in seven minutes.
He hoped like hell she wouldn’t be late.
Sure, the promise of a massage, and what would hopefully follow, was enough to fill any guy with anticipation, but somehow this felt like…more. Which was crazy since they barely knew each other. And especially since he’d be gone in two weeks. Clearly he was imagining things. No doubt because he hadn’t been with anyone since Nina had left. Yeah, that’s all this was: a case of extreme horniness. A bout-or two, or maybe three or four-of hot, sweaty sex with his hot, sexy neighbor would set his head back on straight.
The thought of hot, sweaty sex made him feel decidedly warm, so he headed to the fridge for a bottle of water. When he opened the door, his gaze fell on the blue foil-wrapped half of a chocolate heart he’d received with his purchase from Sinfully Sweet. He’d put it the refrigerator because every once in a while he enjoyed a eating piece of chilled chocolate while drinking a cup of hot coffee. Instead of grabbing a water, he slid out the heart half, suddenly curious to know what message was hidden beneath the foil. He undid the shiny blue wrapping and pulled out a slender strip of paper.
Pushing his glasses up his nose, he read, “Passion is best described as unpredictable because it’s often found in surprising places. With unexpected people. Leading to unanticipated encounters. All of which can result in unforeseen outcomes.”
His brows shot upward. Talk about apt. Well, everything except the last part. There was nothing unforeseen about the outcome of any passion he and Carlie might share. It had a two-week expiration date stamped right on it. And they both knew that going in.
He hadn’t wanted to accept the half a heart, telling Ellie there was no point in him doing so because with him moving, he had neither the time nor the inclination to try to discover which single woman might have the matching pink half. But Ellie had insisted, saying that if nothing else, he’d enjoy the delicious chocolate. He’d tried one more time, saying that he felt bad knowing some woman might get his matching half and be a definite loser in the contest because of it, but still she’d insisted. So he’d taken it and offered up a silent apology to whoever might receive the matching half.
Before loosely rewrapping the chocolate, he broke off a small piece and popped it in his mouth. Oh, yeah. That was some damn good chocolate. He grabbed a bottle of water, then leaned his hips against the counter. Another quick look at the clock told him Carlie was due right about now.
Which was perfect because he couldn’t wait to feel her hands on him. The mere thought shot a bolt of heat through his body.
He really hoped she wouldn’t be late.
DAMN IT, she was running late.
Carlie jumped from the shower and hastily wrapped a towel around her, sarong style. Why was it that whenever she was in a rush everything went wrong? Her favorite shirt, the one that made her look like she had more cleavage than she actually did, was in the dirty laundry, and while she’d been busy studying, the puppies had gotten into the bathroom and littered three rooms with toilet paper streamers.
In the middle of gathering up the mess-a process hindered by an enthusiastic P.B. and J. who thought “clean-up” was secret puppy talk for “play-time”-her mother had called twice. The first time just to chat, and the second time to bombard her with questions after she’d deduced-in that unerringly accurate way moms had-that “Can’t talk now, Mom, I’m busy” was secret daughter talk for “Gotta go, have a hot date with a hot man.” Then she couldn’t find her razor and no way was she going to Daniel’s house without freshly shaved legs.
So now, here she was, soaking wet, with about six minutes to make herself spectacular. She toweled a spot off the fogged-up bathroom mirror and grimaced at what she saw. No way her mirror would declare her Fairest of Them All. Six minutes? Good grief, she needed more like six hours. She looked like something the puppies dragged in from the backyard.
And speaking of the puppies…Hmmm. Usually they waited for her right outside the shower and pounced on her the minute she emerged, licking the water droplets from her toes. She walked into her bedroom, then whistled and called their names. “Here, P.B. and J. C’mon, boys.”
The fact that they didn’t appear and she didn’t hear any noise could only mean one thing.
Doggie mischief was afoot.
“Great,” she muttered heading swiftly toward the kitchen. “Listen, guys. I do not have time for this. You better not be turning my new slippers into a chew toy.”
She entered the kitchen and skidded to a halt at the sight of the unlatched doggie door. Uh oh. She must have forgotten to secure it before she showered. Probably because, thanks to Daniel, her brain cells were all kerflooey. She yanked open the back door then hit the light switch.
Light flooded her backyard, illuminating her small patio. Her hole-pocked lawn. Her flower beds. The fence separating her yard from Daniel’s.
Her puppies digging their way under the fence.
“Stop!” she yelled. Clutching her towel, she dashed outside. They must have heard her coming because it seemed they redoubled their digging efforts.
“Bad puppies! Stop that!”
The patio flagstones were cold beneath her feet, and she stepped as quickly as she could onto the grass, which was not only cold, but damp as well. Goosebumps rose on her wet flesh and she winced as a rock bit into her instep. Jeez, could this situation get any worse?
She instantly cursed herself for asking because the situation immediately got worse as both dogs disappeared under the fence. Since there wasn’t a gate between the two yards, she couldn’t just snatch the little bandits. No, now she’d have to go back inside and call Daniel and ask him to grab the culprits-quick-before they could dig any more holes in his newly repaired yard. If she waited until she was dressed, Lord knows what havoc they might wreak. And Lord knows what havoc that might wreak with her plans with Daniel. Probably he wouldn’t be feeling very amorous if he discovered a fresh batch of holes in his yard.
Grasping her towel, her teeth chattering, she hurried toward her back door. And realized that things could go from worse to worser.
The damn door was locked.
WHEN THE KNOCK sounded on Daniel’s front door, his heart performed one of those contortionist-type maneuvers it had recently started executing, and he frowned. Ridiculous. She was just a woman. The world was littered with them. Two weeks from now they’d be nothing more than former neighbors with, he hoped, a few hot memories between them. Tiny blips on each other’s radar screens.
Yeah. But in the meantime…
He had to force himself not to sprint to the door. “Be cool, be calm, be suave,” he muttered as he entered his small foyer. “Yeah, that’s the ticket. Just do your best James Bond.”
Pausing to draw a deep, soothing breath, he opened the door. And stared.
At Carlie, her skin damp, her hair a riotous tangle of glistening, wet curls. At Carlie, wearing a pale pink towel that-yowza-barely covered the essentials.