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Swallowing hard, Shannon said, “That’s what Julie told me.”
“She was right. But first we have to get you—and us—out of this nightmare we just found ourselves in.” Lisa finished serving the food, and they all sat down around the table. “Now let’s eat and we’ll all fill you in on what we know.”
Bensonhurt, Brooklyn, New York City
Hutch carried the last of his boxes into Marc’s—now his—second-floor apartment. The place was great: high ceilings, lots of windows, two bedrooms, an updated kitchen, a spacious living and dining room, which opened to a huge private deck. Not only that, the apartment was in move-in condition, thanks to Marc leaving all his furniture and to being former military all the way—fastidiously neat. There wasn’t even a damned scuff mark on the gleaming brown-and-tan tile floor.
“This place looks even more meticulous than I remember,” Hutch commented, looking around. “I never understood how Marc managed to live in an apartment for years without leaving so much as a scratch on the walls.”
“Me, either. But that’s Marc—a SEAL to the core.” Casey used a box cutter to slice open some boxes and, seeing what they contained, she carried them into the master bedroom. “All clothes,” she called out. “I’ll do these. You can do the kitchen stuff.”
“How about we forget both and do the sheets?” Hutch called back, a suggestive note in his voice. “I can think of all kinds of ways to put them to good use.”
“Can you?” Casey stood in the doorway, arms folded across her breasts, regarding him with a coy expression she rarely wore but found herself liking. In fact, she liked everything about Hutch’s move to NYC. “So can I. But work comes before play. Besides, heightened anticipation is exciting.”
“Heightened anticipation?” Hutch’s brows shot up. “We’ve spent two years going months at a time without seeing each other. I’ve taken more cold showers than I can count. How about some throw-you-on-the-bed, impulsive sex for a change?”
The image made Casey draw in a breath. Refusing Hutch’s offer was definitely costing her. All she wanted to do was to drag him into that bed, welcome him to NYC, and not come up for air for two weeks. But this easy banter, where time was on their side, was new, and it was fun. It was bringing out a playful side of her she never knew she had.
Not to mention, she knew they wouldn’t be alone for long.
She gave Hutch a mouth-watering look. “Nope. I want to see those hot muscles of yours at work—and, after you’ve lifted and emptied all those boxes, to make sure your stamina hasn’t lost its mojo.”
“My stamina is going to ensure you pay for making me wait, Ms. Woods.” Hutch gave her a very sexy, very pointed look before he returned to his tasks. “I doubt you’ll be able to make it to work tomorrow.”
“I doubt I’ll want to.”
Their exchange was interrupted when the buzzer from downstairs sounded.
“Don’t look so crestfallen,” Casey said, going over to find out who it was. “There’s another perk to waiting until we have all night. Leisurely diversity. I just took a quick peek, and there’s a huge stall shower and a sunken tub in that awesome master bathroom. So think about that while you’re unpacking. I promise to make waiting worth your while.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“Please do.” Pressing the intercom button, Casey asked, “Yes?”
“It’s the welcoming committee,” Marc responded. “Maddy and I brought a bottle of wine, dessert from the best bakery in Brooklyn—plus two extra pairs of hands to unpack.”
“Now that’s an offer we can’t refuse.” Casey buzzed them up immediately.
Two minutes later, Hutch opened the door to Marc and his fiancée, Madeline Westfield—a lovely, dark-haired, totally put-together class act. The Marc who stood by her side was a completely different Marc than the one who showed up at FI every day. This was head-over-heels-in-love Marc, who kept a possessive arm looped around Maddy’s waist, even as he handed over a large box of pastries.
“Just inhale them,” Maddy said. “Marc was practically drooling from the minute we parked—which was a full block down on Eighteenth Avenue.” She smiled up at him, and it was obvious that the head-over-heels thing was reciprocated. The two of them had waited ten years to be together, and, now that it had finally happened, they weren’t about to take it for granted.
“They’re worth drooling over,” Marc informed Casey and Hutch. “Villabate has been here in Brooklyn for over three decades. They make Sicilian bread, cakes, cookies, pastries—you name it—that bring crowds of people in there to stand in line.”
“It really is like Disney World in there,” Maddy agreed. “The artistry of their creations.” She gestured toward the box. “We bought a variety, from cannoli to chocolate mousse to cream puffs—and a few others I can’t even pronounce but love to eat—and a bottle of Chianti to go with them.” She handed Casey the bottle of wine. “So let’s get to it.”
She slipped out of her jacket, sizing up the amount of work to be done. She was very familiar with Marc’s apartment, so she glanced down the hall toward the bedroom.
“Oh, good. You organized which boxes go where. That’ll make it easy. Hutch, you and Casey can do the bedrooms and master bath, and Marc and I will do the kitchen and the powder room.” Her forehead creased in thought. “Do you have any paintings you want hung? Marc is a pro at that.”
Hutch scanned the walls ruefully. “I made this move and transfer happen fast, so I’m severely lacking in personal touches. Plus, interior decorating is definitely not my forte.”
“Well, it is mine.” Maddy was an ER nurse, but she also had an uncanny eye for design. “I’d be happy to pick out some things for you. Casey knows your taste. We can do it together.”
“Done,” Casey said.
“Great, thanks.” Hutch gazed from one of them to the other. “Who opts for dessert first and unpacking second?”
