The Man Upstairs

He wrinkled his nose slightly. “Soy nuts?”

She reached for a small covered dish and removed the lid. “Try some.”

He held up his hand and shook his head. “No, thanks. I tried soy milk once and that was enough of an introduction to soy for me.”

She shrugged. “These are actually pretty good. They come in flavors like honey roasted, barbecue…”

Her words didn’t convince him to give them a try. “You do most of your work on a computer?”

Again she nodded. “Most of it.”

“Is that why you bought the new system? So you could bring work home?”

“Yes. Plus I also freelance. Brochures, business cards…that sort of thing.” When it became apparent he wasn’t in any hurry to leave, she said, “You probably have stuff you want to do. Please don’t let me keep you from it.”

“Not tonight. It’s why I was in Leonie’s kitchen when you pulled into the driveway.” Again there was no mistaking the interest in his eyes. She’d seen it the afternoon they’d had lunch and again at the photo shoot.

“Lucky for me. I’m not sure how I would have gotten that box up those stairs without help.” She nodded toward the computer cartons.

“It wasn’t luck. I was waiting for you to come home. I’d already tried knocking on your door so I went downstairs to see if Leonie knew where you were.” He moved closer to her and she caught the fresh scent of soap.

“Why were you looking for me?”

“To find out if you’re having as much trouble trying not to think about me as I’m having trying not to think about you.” His voice was seductively soft.

She wanted to roll her eyes and tell him she’d heard better lines from high school boys, but there was no sly twinkle in his eyes, no cocky tilt to his head. Just a sincerity that made her totally aware of him as a man.

If she had wanted to be coy, she could have tossed back her hair and asked why he imagined she’d been thinking about him at all. It was probably what a lot of women would have done. Not many women would pass up an opportunity to flirt with a guy like Quinn Sterling. And she could only imagine what hockey groupies would have done if they had been in her shoes.

Only Dena had never been any good at flirting. Nor was she of the groupie mentality. She didn’t even like hockey. Yet if she were honest with herself, this man standing next to her had preoccupied her thoughts lately…and not only because of his connection with the charity projects.

She didn’t want him to know that, however, and said, “I’m sorry. I’m sure you get a lot of people asking you to give of your time for various charity functions. I promise I won’t bug you anymore.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

She tried to give him a blank stare of puzzlement, but there was no mistaking the look in his eye. He was attracted to her.

“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked.

She was about to tell him she had, but then her stomach growled and he smiled and said, “You haven’t. Good. I haven’t, either. Come over to Dixie’s with me. We’ll have a little wine, eat some ribs and we can get to know each other a little better. If we’re going to be neighbors asking each other for favors, we should at least do that, don’t you think?”

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