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“I’m serious,” warned Alisha. “And Hamilton has an order of carrots and celery coming, too.”
The pig got to eat healthier than the people. Hamilton squeaked at Dominic’s feet. Dominic bent down and heavy-handedly petted the thing. “Why do you have a tutu on him?”
“Because a tuxedo would look sill
y.” Alisha sighed and nudged Tiffani forward so they could leave.
Alone in the living room, Dominic glanced around for the remote control. By the time he found it underneath the third cushion, the doorbell rang. He figured it had to be the pizza—Alisha’s favorite pizza, spinach Alfredo. He’d half expected Alisha to leave him with the bill, but the delivery guy said the pizza was paid for and left without waiting on a cash tip. She probably felt guilty for asking him to babysit Hamilton. Of course, Dominic thought with a chuckle, if she really wanted to make things right, she would have ordered a double-pepperoni pizza.
Dominic set the extra-large box on the counter. From the smell alone he knew the order was wrong. This was a double pepperoni, not what Alisha ordered. He raised his brow in question, wondering if Alisha had pulled a fast one on him and really got him his favorite. Who was he kidding? She mentioned she wanted her leftovers. And Hamilton’s dinner was missing, as well. Dominic tilted the box up to see the name on the order. Lexi Pendergrass Reyes, apartment 501.
If he wasn’t mistaken, Lexi was married and living in the suburbs. Last fall he’d serviced a beautiful 1952 Fiat 8V. The car had been a present from Lexi to her husband, Stephen Reyes, who happened to be the same man who sold him the ranch. They were nice people, but Dominic knew they didn’t live here. With a huff, Dominic grabbed the cardboard box and turned to Hamilton. “I’ll be right back with our food.”
Hamilton squealed an answer and then, with a snort, turned back toward the living room, spun around three times and collapsed on a pile of clothes on the floor. Dominic shook his head and walked out the door. He found apartment 501 on the other side of the building. Had he realized, he could have gone into the bedroom and called out from the courtyard-side balcony.
Loud music thumped down the hallway. The Reyes family had two girls. Was one of them old enough to be throwing a party? Dominic found himself in a dilemma. Did he stop the party from going on or did he at least make the pizza exchange? He preferred going against a teenager than dealing with Alisha’s wrath when she came home in a few hours to the wrong pizza.
Three brass numbers stood between Dominic and the pizza. Savoring the moments with the best pizza in the world, Dominic reluctantly knocked on the door. The music shut off. The sound of bare feet padding across the hardwood floor neared the door. He expected several people. With a whoosh the door swung open. Almond-shaped eyes widened at the sight of him. Long, lean and slender spilled out from a pair of black stretchy shorts, which hugged her curvy hips. Instead of the bun she wore earlier, a twelve-inch diamond crown was on top of her dark hair.
“Cupcake Girl?”
Chapter 2
“Dominic Crowne?” Waverly breathed the man’s name and hoped to slow down the quickening pulse zipping through her veins. Since she’d seen him last, he’d shed the tailored suit and replaced it with jeans—a pair of well-fitted jeans—and a T-shirt. Tattoos covered his arms. She tried not to stare too hard. He might as well have come with a neon sign that read DANGER. Excitement coursed through her veins.
Dominic leaned against the door frame with a pizza box propped within the crook of his arm and against his hip. A dangerous smile, accompanied with a quick wiggle of his brow, crossed his face. “You’re not Lexi.”
“This is her place,” Waverly explained. “Lexi is letting me crash here for a while.”
“Crash here for a while?” He frowned. “Is your place being painted or something?”
Waverly shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Are you volunteering or something?”
“Maybe the ‘something’ part.” Dominic licked his lips, and Waverly forgot about the howling in her stomach from a few minutes ago before pizza arrived. She stepped backward into the foyer of her apartment and caught a glimpse of her pink-tinted cheeks in the large gold-framed mirror by the door.
Waverly cleared her throat. “So, do you normally walk the halls with pizzas?”
“Oh, my bad.” He shoved the pizza toward her. “You haven’t looked at yours yet, have you?”
“I was about to sit down.”
“Right after the crowning?” Dominic asked and pointed toward the top of her head.
Heat filled her cheeks. She cocked her head to the side, untangled the combs holding her tiara in place and released her unruly hair. “Sorry, I was just...”
Dominic held up his free hand. “It’s okay. You had that second cupcake today—it was worth celebrating, I understand.”
Waverly decided not to expose her greed and tell him she’d eaten a total of three cupcakes today. “Thanks.” She laughed lightly. “You said something about a pizza?”
As if remembering the food in his arms, Dominic blinked and inhaled deeply while he nodded. “The delivery guy mixed up the apartment numbers. My sister lives across the courtyard and she’s going to kill me if I don’t leave her any leftovers. She only bought the one, even though I’m here to do a favor for her.”
With widened eyes, Waverly bobbed her head from side to side. She took a step forward into the hallway and peered into the steaming-hot box for a peek of a double-pepperoni pie. “I wonder what I got. What other pizza could there be?”
“Jesus, now more than ever I need to know your name,” Dominic groaned, pressing his hand against his chest. “At least I need to know your first name. Your last name isn’t necessary.”
She cocked her hand on her hip and laughed. “Why is my last name not necessary?”
“Because it’s about to change to mine.”
