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  When she pushed open the door, her breath left her in a whoosh as she stepped inside to find Jordan standing there, beer in one hand, robe in the other.

  “I ran you a bath. Have you eaten?”

  “What the fuck is this, Jordan?” Contrary to her words, she was pleased. The way things looked, she was going to get seduced tonight, and after the creep in the diner today, she was game.

  Jordan was wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt, but he looked delicious as always. His blond hair had grown out a little since she’d first seen him moving in, and now it brushed his ears and flopped a little over his forehead. It was just enough to hold on to, as she’d discovered last night. He looked at her sheepishly, his blue gaze glowing at her, and Mia did a double-take. Jordan never looked sheepish. Cocky—yes. Horny—yes. Aware—yes. Intense—yes. Sheepish—big, fat hell no.

  “I want to see you relaxed and rested for once.” He walked over to her and handed her the things in his hands, his muscular frame taking up most of her apartment. “Now, go. Take a bath.”

  “Why?” Nobody ever did shit like this, and she was wondering what his ulterior motive was because he sure as hell had to have one.

  “What? I just want to see what you look like without the circles under your eyes.” There. That cocky grin was back, and she slapped him across his chest.

  And hurt her hand in the process. Damn.

  The bathtub was full of hot water and bubbles. Mia didn’t take baths much. She never really liked the idea of soaking in her own dirt, but the bubbles were too inviting, and the candles smelled awesome, so she went for it.

  Sinking into the water, Mia couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure escaping her mouth, nor did she miss the chuckle from outside the door.

  “Are you going to listen to me bathe?” she asked while sinking herself into the tiny tub as much as she could.

  “If you’re gonna make noises like that, um, yeah,” was the reply.

  She couldn’t be mad; this felt too good. As she soaked, Mia could feel the heat ease her tired muscles. She washed herself, shaved her legs, and then soaked some more. Thoughts of the creeper at the diner gave way to the man who was no longer standing outside the bathroom door, but surely hadn’t gone far—the apartment wasn’t that big.

  She liked Jordan, and the idea of sex with him was awesome. But she still needed to think about her sister—Rose was her main goal here, not getting laid. If she was going to do this with Jordan, which she’d sort of already committed to, she had to end it before she brought her sister home to live with her.

  The whole point of bringing Rose to live with her was to get her out of the environment of her mother, who had an ongoing flavor-of-the-month scenario. Mia wanted to give Rose the stable environment her mother wouldn’t, and having a purely sexual relationship with Jordan, while it would be fun for her, would be counter-productive to her plan. It would hurt Rose to think Mia was following in Mom’s footsteps, and it could possibly encourage her to do the same. Mia wanted Rose to understand and embrace the fact that they were each their own woman and not doomed to make the same mistakes their mother made.

  But could she get Jordan out of her system before she brought Rose home?

  That didn’t matter. Rose mattered more than a fling with her neighbor. Besides, she wouldn’t be living here when she brought her sister back to the States.

  The thought of not seeing Jordan every day sent a pang shuddering through her body, and she realized her water had gotten cold.

  By the time she was finished, the bubbles were gone, and she was curious to see what Jordan had planned next.

  She heaved herself out of the water and toweled herself off, wrapping her robe around her before she came back out into her living room.

  Her ‘apartment’ was a one-room efficiency, furnished with a cheap futon and a minimal kitchen. She kept her futon folded up, choosing to just sleep on it that way instead of folding and unfolding the thing every day.

  But now it was unfolded, and Jordan sat on the edge, looking at her expectantly. Butterflies erupted in her belly at the flashes of erotic heaven his presence on her bed portrayed.

  “Lie down,” he murmured, his voice husky.

  “Why?” she asked, not caring one whit what his answer was. She was already thinking her bed would be next on her agenda. With or without Jordan in it.

  He jiggled a bottle of something. “Massage time.”

  Mia flopped on the futon with a creak, already limp with exhaustion and totally relaxed from the bath. But she was not about to turn down a massage.

  “You might want to take off the robe.” Jordan’s low voice held promise, but it wasn’t overtly sexual. Mia was torn. Part of her wanted to take off the robe and launch herself at him, but the other part thought that might be a little too strenuous, and she should just see where this massage thing was going.

  She rolled over, lodging her body next to Jordan’s, and untied the belt. As she opened the robe and pushed it off her shoulders, Jordan’s eyes tracked her movements, darkening perceptively. He was clenching the bottle in his grip, his knuckles whitening. Mia giggled when his tongue snaked out and licked his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. Again, it wasn’t overtly sexual in nature, just the gesture of a man trying to rein in his desires.

  At her giggle, he snarled at her, more evidence of his restraint. “Turn over, Mia. Let me do this.”

  Okay, so he was holding back for some reason, and it was a brief disappointment, but the fact he was restraining himself so he could do something nice for her that wasn’t sex and orgasms and stuff was cool, too.

  So, she rolled over, and Jordan arranged her robe over her butt, leaving her back and shoulders bare.

  Mia listened as Jordan poured whatever was in the bottle onto his palm, then rubbed his hands together to warm it. When he slathered it across her shoulders, there was no power on earth that could stop the moan that ripped from her lungs. His hands smearing warm oil all over her felt amazing.

  He had hard callouses on his palms, strong hands massaging her sore muscles. She’d thought the bath was amazing, but this… this was heaven.

  Jordan’s hands worked her back and shoulders—kneading, stroking, and caressing. When he went lower, focusing on the backs of her thighs, she heard the shift in his breathing like a dream. She was sinking fast, and her lucid thoughts couldn’t grasp his struggle, only the sensations of his palms on her skin.

  He was gasping for breath, his exhales blowing across her skin like an embrace. But they barely registered as she sank deeper in unconsciousness.

  Mia was waiting tables at the diner down the street, and the creepy guy had been there for two hours, staring at her. It was really fucking weird now. It was the same guy as yesterday. At first, she had been sort of flattered, if he seemed misguided. Obviously not experienced in the ins and outs of picking up women with a look, he’d just ogled her with this weird glint in his eyes. She wanted to tell him he wasn’t sexy, he was freaking her out.

  If she’d seen him at a club or a bar, he’d be hot. Blond hair—a little on the long side—curling up on the edges framed piercing blue eyes and a chiseled face with a bit of stubble on it. His body was lanky with lots of lean muscles. He was decent-looking, but the way he kept staring at her was unnerving.

  She didn’t even want to give him a polite hello.

  Thankfully, he wasn’t sitting in her section; he was across the dining room sipping on a cup of coffee Kelly kept refilling for him. To her knowledge, he hadn’t ordered anything else.

  To get her mind off Creepy Guy, she thought of the last couple of nights with Jordan. Again.

  If the goal last night had been to ratchet up her anticipation of sex with Jordan, he’d certainly hit that mark in spades. Holy hell. She’d come really close to coming with his tongue on her night before last, and he wasn’t even trying. She just wanted to make sure he was going to give it some effort before she committed. And last night? Shit. Mia had never had a guy just do sweet
stuff for her before. There was a strong possibility he’d wanted more from the experience, but she’d fallen asleep before anything happened.

  As if she’d conjured him with her thoughts alone, the bell jangled over the door, and Jordan sauntered into the diner, smirking at her before shedding his leather jacket and sitting in a booth in her section. It was a corner seat affording him a view of the entire restaurant. She supposed that was a throw-back from the military. He didn’t talk about it much, but she knew he’d been a Marine.

  Blowing a bubble with her gum, she sashayed over to his table, beaming at him. He returned the grin, and she couldn’t stop the warm fuzzies bubbling in her stomach. God. This guy did it for her. All of it.

  “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll have my usual.” His voice was low and husky and that smirk still twisted the edges of his oh-God-so-sexy lips.

  A giggle erupted before she could stop it. “You’ve never been here before. How am I supposed to know what that is?”

  “Guess. I’ll tell you if you’re right.” His eyes cut over her shoulder to where Creepy Guy was sitting and his smirk left abruptly. “That guy been staring at you long?” he grumbled.

  Mia looked at the clock. “Not long. Only about two days,” she muttered, unwilling to ruin the fun banter with Jordan by talking about that creep in the corner. Jordan stiffened in his seat and turned a bit to get a better view of the offender.

  “You want me to stop it?”

  “Nah. He’s not hurting anything. He’ll leave eventually.” Mia hoped. She got off in a couple of hours, at eight, and didn’t want him lurking around while she left. That thought sent a shiver of unease pooling at the base of her spine. “Let me put your order in before the rush.” Turning, she wrote his order on the pad while she walked—double cheeseburger with a side of chili and extra fries and a soda.

  When she returned to his table with his soda, she asked, “You look like you’re in a better mood than you have been in a while.” She was just making conversation, but she didn’t even bother stopping the teasing smirk curling her lips.

  He relaxed in his seat, but she sensed he was still paying attention to the dude in the corner. “Yeah, I got a better job at work. Not just watching the lecher anymore, although I still have to watch him next week. My pictures were shit.”

  Mia laughed at the sheepish look on his face. He was so damned cute when he wasn’t trying to be.

  “Hey!” Quicker than a flash, Jordan dipped a finger into his drink and withdrew a piece of ice to throw at her. Giggling, she dodged it effortlessly.

  “Sorry, but you’d think you’d do a better job if you were so hell-bent on getting rid of that assignment.” He’d told her about his job and how much he hated watching a husband cheat on his wife, week after week. “It’s a digital camera, right? How hard is it to get a good picture?”

  “I wanted to get the hell out of there. You’re right.” He rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “But I got a better job to work on until next week. One which actually utilizes my skills.”

  Mia nodded. “You got skills.” She couldn’t resist poking at him with her finger. Let him read in to her double-entendre. It was there. Mia had no doubt the man had skills.

  The bell in the kitchen dinged his order ready and she went to retrieve it. Jordan’s eyes lit up when she brought it to him.

  “My usual is a coronary blaster?”

  “Yup.”

  “Alright then.” She laughed as he actually tucked his napkin in his t-shirt and dug in, eating with a smile on his face, obviously enjoying it. “Yum. I like it.”

  “Good. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  When she turned, Mia was relieved to see the creepy guy had gone and Kelly was cussing that he hadn’t left a tip. Figured. Assholes were everywhere.

  Mia had a hard time with Jordan in her diner, eating. She wanted to just sit and stare at his magnificence but knew that would be awkward, so she caught glimpses and imagined the rest. His strong, chiseled jaw as it worked over his food reminded her of the way it had laid a trail of wetness down her ribcage the other night. His curling biceps as they brought the cheeseburger to his mouth made her think of them curving around her thighs while licking a line of salt off her navel. His long, tapered fingers wrapped around his French fries gave way to images of them wrapped around her ankle when he’d spread lime juice on her big toe.

  Fuck.

  Fanning herself, she strode into the walk-in fridge to cool down. This was beyond ridiculous.

  He was a man. That was all. And her feelings were pure attraction, plain and simple. She just needed to get the sex out of the way and enjoy herself. Deciding right there, staring at the lettuce, to just have sex with him and not play anymore games, she steeled her resolve and straightened.

  Never mind that he was super strong, made her laugh all the time, and his smile did weird things to her belly. Never mind that she missed him every time he walked out her door. Never mind that when she heard his heavy footsteps come up the stairs to his apartment, she always felt a sense of relief she wasn’t alone anymore. Just knowing he was across the hall always gave her a strange sense of security.

  He was just a man. One she was going to have sex with tonight.

  She wasn’t her mother. She wouldn’t fall in love with the guy just because he paid her some attention. She would get her sex and get him out of her life in time to get her sister back in it.

  Simple.

  Striding out of the walk-in, she marched straight to his table. But he was gone. In his spot was a twenty dollar bill and a note.

  “No more games. Tonight.”

  They were on the same page. That was good.

  Jordan was a bit more worried than he should be. Mia might have found someplace else to go, and that was okay, right? They didn’t have anything, and that’s exactly what he wanted. Exactly.

  Then why was he pacing like a fucking nutcase?

  It’s not like his apartment was really big enough to pace in. Six paces each way. That was it. But she was supposed to get off at eight, right? He looked at his watch… again. It was nine-thirty, and she hadn’t come up the stairs, yet.

  Maybe she wasn’t as into all this as he was. He didn’t think about the slash of pain in his chest that thought caused. Jesus, the other night had totally gotten his motor running. And last night had accomplished everything he’d wanted it to. She’d gotten rest, just like he’d planned. The memory of her soft skin under his fingertips was enough to give him a rock hard erection. And his hand wasn’t going to cut it tonight.

  He was worried about her, plain and simple. He tried not to think the worst, but this was a big city, and they didn’t live in the best part of town. Hell, she didn’t work in a great part of town, either. He didn’t let himself think about the ramifications of his worry. They were friends. Friends worried about each other, right?

  Pace. Six steps. About face. Pace. Six steps.

  Jordan was just about to get on his bike and look for her when he finally heard her soft footsteps treading up the stairs. Throwing his door open, he flung himself out into the hallway.

  “Christ, Mia. It’s almost ten. Where the fuck have you been?” The words came out in a rush before he could slow them down, and as soon as he saw her face, he regretted them.

  “Bastard slashed my tires.” She looked on the verge of tears, her black eyes shiny, her face twisted into a grimace. “Had to be him.” Mia looked worn the fuck out—her shoulders slumped in defeat—and Jordan wanted to pound whoever did it. Fucker ruined all his good relaxation techniques.

  “Aw, fuck, honey.” He met her on the stairs and pulled her into his arms. She felt so damn small and vulnerable. Christ, she was shaking in his arms, and he tightened them, willing some of his strength into her by osmosis. “I’ll kick his ass.” Spent most of her shift staring daggers into her, then slashing her fucking tires? He’d hunt the fucker down.

  “I’m too tired to do anything tonight
, Jordan.” Well, of fucking course she was. She’d just walked a couple of miles, at least, after a full shift. Sure, he could do it wearing sixty pounds of gear, ten times, but she was soft, feminine, exhausted. He remembered she hadn’t had a day off in three weeks and felt terrible.

  Leading her into the open door of his apartment, Jordan shushed her. “It’s okay. You can sleep here. I’m not letting you hang out alone tonight.”

  “I need to shower, first.”

  “I’ve got a shower.” He shut the door behind them. Mia had never been in his apartment before, not that he had much, but he hadn’t shown it to her. He didn’t know why he was now, except the idea of her staying in her own apartment tonight after that fucker had undoubtedly messed with her was seriously distasteful to Jordan.

  “But I thought—”

  “No thinking tonight, Mia… Come on.” Leading her into his bedroom, Jordan dug around and found her a t-shirt to wear and a pair of his clean shorts. He was sure they’d be huge, but he was damn sure they’d all look better on her than him.

  Why was this so awesome for him? She’d had a shit day, and here he was swooping in, being some sort of fucking knight in shining armor.

  And he liked it.

  Smothering that with the reminder he didn’t do attachments, Jordan piled the clothes in her arms and led her into the bathroom. “I’ve got an extra toothbrush in that top drawer there, behind the condoms.” He couldn’t resist a wink in her direction and relished her sheepish blush.

  “Thanks,” she muttered.

  Jordan sat on the edge of his futon, wondering what the fuck he was getting into. With sudden clarity, something inside him shifted, aligning, and Jordan relaxed.

  He did fucking care about her. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have happily let her tease him the other night. He wouldn’t have spent so much time relaxing her and making sure she got a good night’s sleep last night. He wouldn’t have been pacing the floors, waiting for her to come home tonight. He wouldn’t want to kick that creeper’s ass.