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One way to find out, duh. The peephole. He grabbed his gun out of the kitchen drawer—he had guns stashed in a few locations in the house—and he went to the door and peered through the peephole.
And saw the side of Siena’s head. She was looking down the road.
He sidestepped to put his gun in the drawer of an end table, then answered the door.
She stood there with a pie in her hand. Smiling. Damn, he’d forgotten what a great smile she had, how totally gorgeous she was when it lit her blue eyes.
Also, no tits again. She was wearing just a t-shirt and those black stretchy pants all women wore these days, regardless of their size or shape. It was very apparent that Siena was board flat. Like the boob machine had been offline when her body rolled by on the assembly line.
She must wear fake ones to work. He could see it: cocktail waitresses got better tips if they put their shit on display, and Siena was obviously not naturally gifted in that department.
Why was he thinking about her body? Well, because she was a chick, and he was a straight dude who liked the female form, even the form of a woman he didn’t like. Especially when, aside from the lack of boobage, the form was really good—long, sleek legs and a high, tight little ass. And her face—she was gorgeous, honestly. Big, astute blue eyes under heavy, pertly arched brows, a strong chin, and one of those mouths where the bottom lip was twice as plump as the top. Totally fucking biteable.
Still: shut up, lizard brain.
His head was too full of crap to return her smile, or to speak. He stood there, framed in the open door, and waited for her to explain herself. Make her work a little.
“Um, hi,” she said. He thought it might have been the first time she’d ever greeted him amiably.
“Yeah?”
“Geneva and I, we’re really grateful you came over. You had no reason to get involved, but ...” Her head dropped, and she stared at the pie. “Anyway. My mouth got ahead of me tonight, and I would’ve ended up hurt, maybe hurt bad, if you hadn’t pulled Jorge off. He works security at the Nugget, and those guys are lethal. I’m grateful for your help. Gennie and I were talking, and words aren’t enough. I bought this pie for dessert tonight, but we want you to have it. As a ... token of our thanks, I guess.” She looked up again and lifted the pie a few inches. “It’s lemon meringue.”
“I don’t like lemon,” he said. It was a lie, but only because he’d edited out some words from the sentenceI don’t like you, so I don’t want your stupid lemon meringue pie.
“Oh. O—okay. Sorry.”
Apparently, he’d been possessed by the ghost of some dead hero, Sir Galahad or some shit, because her sad little face strummed a couple of his heartstrings and he wanted to make her feel better.
He sighed and asked her the question she’d asked him, with about the same degree of enthusiasm. “Do you want to come in?”
She dashed a look in the direction of her house. “Pizza just came, and Geneva’s over there.”
“Okay. Whatever.”
“No, wait. I’ll come in. If you don’t want the pie, I’d still like to talk. If that’s okay.”
“What about the pizza? And your sister?”
“The pizza will keep. Geneva’s right next door, and she keeps insisting she’s old enough to take care of herself. Anyway, it was her idea for me to come over.”
“So you didn’t want to.”
She blinked. “That’s not—I wanted to come over, too. Maybe I owe you more apologies than just for tonight. So yes, I’d like to come in, if the invitation is still open.”
Cooper stepped back and let Siena into his home.
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~oOo~
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As she came into thehouse, Cooper turned and walked away, leaving her to close the door herself. Since she had a pie, he headed to the kitchen. Maybe it wasn’t agreatidea to put this woman in the room where his knives were, but that was where you put pie.
When he turned, she stood at the entrance to the room, still holding the pie, enclosed in a tinfoil pan and a plastic top, in both hands. He couldn’t read her expression.
“You can set it there,” he said, nodding at the empty space on the counter to her right. He didn’t want to move up on her, even to take the pie. She’d probably cry rape or something.
