Perfect for You

wanted more than she was willing to give. Her instincts said he'd take it all if she let him.
    She couldn't let that happen. Blinking out of the stupor, she pushed him down a step. "I'm positive."
    "Damn." He took her hand in his, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. "So tonight won't end up a date after all. I wonder what we should call it."
    "A mistake." She tried to tug her hand from his before she did something embarrassing, like purr.
    He smiled with too much satisfaction for her tastes. Taking her keys, he unlocked her door. "Go in, it's cold out."
    She hesitated in the doorway. Was this when he made his move? She stiffened as he leaned toward her, her heart starting to race.
    But he just ran the back of a finger over one curl and then stepped back. He held out her keys. "Don't forget to lock up behind me."
    Freya watched him turn and close the door behind him.
    That was it?
    She twisted the deadbolt, leaned against cool wood, and listened to him close his own door, followed by his footsteps on the stairs as he went up to his flat.
    It wasn't like she wanted him to kiss her, but why hadn't he tried harder?
    What did it matter? Her ad was up and there were probably emails of eager suitors waiting for her. She'd find someone who really wanted to kiss her. Someone more perfect than a lawyer who toyed with her.
    She glanced at the door one last time before going upstairs to her flat.

 
Chapter Seven
     
     
    Anna parked her car in the red zone and yanked the brake. Parking spots in Freya's neighborhood were so hard to come by, and she was only making a quick stop.
    She hopped out and jogged up the steps of her sister's home. Then she knocked on Greg Cavanaugh's door.
    No answer. She got up on her tiptoes and looked into the window. It was dark up there. Maybe he wasn't home yet? She glanced at the time on her cell phone. It was almost ten—he should have been home way before now.
    She looked at Freya's door. The light was on upstairs, which meant she needed to be out of here before her sister noticed her.
    The door suddenly opened. Greg blinked at her in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
    "Helping you," she whispered. She pushed her way in and closed the door behind her.
    "I take it your sister doesn't know you're here."
    "You never saw me."
    He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "Want to tell me what the purpose of this visit is?"
    "You need to ask Freya out, without asking her out."
    "That makes sense." He nodded good-naturedly. "I'll get on it."
    "Listen to me." She grabbed his sleeve. "She hasn't had any decent responses to her ad. Yet . It's only a matter of time. You need to strike before that happens."
    He raked a hand through his hair. "I believe we've established that."
    "Well then, do it." She let go. "And I also need your cell number."
    He arched his brow.
    "So I can give you updates and stuff," she explained, taking out her phone.
    Fortunately he gave it to her. She tapped it in and put her phone away. "Thanks. Good doing business with you. I'm outta here."
    "Why do I feel like I just conducted a shady transaction?" he asked, opening the door for her.
    Anna patted his chest. "Look at it as a positive step toward the rest of your life."
    "Your sister will kill you if she finds out," he murmured as she walked out.
    "I know." She shot him a saucy grin over her shoulder. "We need to make sure that doesn't happen."
    He shook his head. "Get out of here before your cover is blown."
    "Later, Shrek." She waved and skipped down the steps. She was so pleased with herself that she didn't see the guy in front of her until she bumped into him. "Sorr—"
    Her apology broke off when she realized it was the new downstairs neighbor.
    He stared down at her, his gaze direct but his thoughts closed off. He looked like a Latin Harry Potter with those glasses, and she wanted to reach up and run her hand through his disheveled hair.
    Clearing her throat, she stepped back, but not before she sniffed at him. The aroma of sweet onions clung to him. She felt a pang of hunger, only she wasn't sure if it was for food or another sort of treat.
    "He's too old for you," he said, his tone heavy with disapproval.
    She shook her head, confused. "What?"
    He pointed at Greg's door. "He's not for you."
    "No, he's for my sister, Freya, your upstairs neighbor." She made a face. "Of course he's not for me. That's just gross."
    He relaxed a little, his expression softening.
    Not able to help herself, she leaned in and inhaled.