Want Me. Jo Leigh

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Want Me - Jo Leigh


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moving in. With you.”

      2

      NATE WATCHED HER EXPRESSION change from surprise to greater surprise. He sipped his beer to hide his grin.

      “Oh?” she said, sounding as disinterested as a person who absolutely wasn’t.

      He nodded. “I was staying at Hotel Giraffe, but your mom had a fit, so now I’m moving in tomorrow.”

      “Danny’s, Myles’s or Tim’s?”

      He huffed out a laugh. “You think I’d risk my life in anyone’s but Myles’s room? Your brothers are savages.”

      She’d gotten herself under control, which was a pity. At least, her exterior was collected as could be, but he wondered. That dance … Not the first two, because he was under no illusions that he looked anything but preposterous attempting to move to music. Luckily for him, he’d quit worrying. He had other good qualities. Besides, if someone didn’t like it they could piss right off.

      He was actually thinking of the slow dance, the one where he’d felt her breasts against his chest. The one he’d had to cut short in case she felt his reaction.

      There it was. The big deal, the shock, the bewildering new reality. Shannon had grown up to be an absolute stunner. She’d been a gorgeous kid, so why it was such a surprise wasn’t clear, but he doubted anyone could have guessed she’d turn into the goddamn Venus on the Half Shell.

      It started with her hair. Thick and past her shoulders, it was a lush, fiery red-orange wonder. Especially when she used both hands to sweep it off her neck before letting it fall.

      “There’s plenty of room at the house these days,” she said. “How long will you be in residence?”

      They’d been talking. He’d forgotten. “I’m supposed to be back in Bali by the middle of May. But I’m hoping to wrap things up here sooner than that.”

      “Oh. I thought you were looking to buy a town house.”

      “I am,” he said, keeping his gaze straight ahead so he didn’t get derailed again. “Mostly because I need the expenses to offset my capital gains. I’ll sublet the place, but first I have to find something, then furnish it.” He exhaled, happy that he’d found a topic so boring that his still-too-interested cock would settle in for the night.

      Shit, the feeling of her in his arms revisited, and so much for boring capital-gains talk. She’d been a straight-as-a-board kid when he’d moved to his place at New York University, thirteen and a complete drama queen. Every time she spoke it was life or death, where she was the center of the universe, and none of her brothers had much patience. Especially when she kept popping up when he and Danny had convinced girls that they wouldn’t be caught sneaking into the house after ten because Mom and Dad Fitzgerald’s bedroom was on the third floor and they slept like the dead.

      “In Gramercy?”

      He had no idea why she’d asked … Oh. “I don’t care where it is. Or what. Duplex, town house, row house, apartment. It needs to be in Manhattan, needs to be managed so that I can be gone most of the year without worrying, and it would be nice if it brought in some decent money. If you have any ideas or know of anything, that would be great.”

      “I’ll ask around.”

      “Thanks.” He picked up his beer again, she lifted her wine, and then she turned to look out at the dance floor and his shoulders sagged in relief.

      This was Shannon. Little Shannon. He’d known her since he was eight, and she’d been a pest for the next ten years. But now she had curves and legs that went all the way down to the ground, perfect white teeth and deep green eyes. For a natural redhead, she had fewer freckles than he would have imagined, and oh, God, she was a natural redhead, which meant that all her hair was—

      “I might know of something in the Flatiron District, come to think of it,” she said, and she was looking at him again.

      Great. He refused to even acknowledge the jerk in his crotch because he was thirty-two and Shannon had practically been his sister back in the day. “Hey,” he said, leaning over the table, focusing, “you were always redecorating your room.”

      Shannon laughed. “I was a teenage girl. That wasn’t decorating, that was illustrating. I was constantly falling madly in love with movie stars or deeply wounded singers.”

      “Your bedroom always looked nice. Smelled great, too.”

      “Yes, because I wasn’t a savage who left my unwashed gym clothes to stew on the floor for months.”

      “Oh.” Nate leaned back. “That actually makes sense. We were pigs, weren’t we?”

      She gave him an eye-roll. “I gather you want some assistance with the furnishings?”

      He shook his head. “More than that. I need someone to help me find the right place, then furnish it. A woman’s touch would be welcome. I’ve been building basic housing for a long time, living in tents or huts. I don’t know the market at all. But I can hire someone if you’re too swamped.”

      “I imagine I can take some time out of my busy schedule for an old friend.”

      He slapped back the rest of his beer and met her gaze again. He was going to be living in the same house as this newly sexualized Shannon, in the room next to hers. He might as well get this out so he could get on with things. “You’re still a beauty,” he said, his low voice carrying over a sad Irish love song. “More now than when you were in all those crazy pageants. You must have every man with a heartbeat after you, Princess. Every one.”

      The blush that blossomed on her cheeks spread like a light show. He used to make her blush as a parlor trick, something that would make her furious and hopefully storm off to her room. Now he found the contrast of her pale skin and the fire of her emotions far too fascinating.

      “You’re going to cause trouble, aren’t you, Nate Brenner?” she asked, just loudly enough for him to hear.

      “As much as humanly possible,” he admitted. Then he smiled, because what the hell else was there to do about it? “Will you excuse me?”

      “Sure,” she said, her look suspicious.

      Close to the bar he decided beer wasn’t going to cut it. He ordered a boilermaker and drank it down right there on the spot.

      “IS HE?”

      Shannon almost dropped her glass at the whisper behind her. It was Ariel, who didn’t seem at all sorry for sneaking up on her like a thief. “Is who what?”

      “Single.” Ariel had to lift her head to see Nate standing with Danny in the midst of the crowd. Midnight, and hardly anyone had left the now stifling room.

      “Yes, he is,” Shannon said. “But he’s not here for long.”

      “He doesn’t have to be. All I’d need is one night.”

      Shannon frowned at her cousin. She’d been sweating—everyone was—and dark tendrils of hair were stuck to her face and neck. The way Ariel gasped for breath was more a result of the dancing she’d been up to than her interest in Nate … Still, Shannon could be mistaken about that. Ariel looked ready to pounce.

      “If I do put him on a card, you’ll have to be quick. It’s first come, first served.”

      “Did you see how I caught the bouquet?” she asked. “I hate being single. I honestly do. It’s a pity your guy isn’t going to be around for the long haul. I like his laugh. That’s huge for me. A sense of humor. You can get through most anything if you can find something to laugh about.”

      “You met him?”

      Ariel sighed. “I did. He was great. But he was very involved in a conversation with Danny. Evidently I wasn’t enough to distract him.”

      “Let


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