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“Not quite three weeks ago, right?”
“It was extenuating circumstances.” A tempting slice of her stomach was revealed as she threw her hands up. “And it really did help me to focus and put together that cocktail menu.”
“Of course it did.” I pulled her into a half hug, not letting myself linger there with her tucked into my side. I also gave myself some major points for not smelling her hair, despite the fresh scent of her shampoo tickling my nose. “Anyway, everything looks incredible.”
“You think so?” Her eyes were wide and questioning, the flecks of caramel and gold particularly bright today. I could have stared at her for hours, instead I turned my attention to the room.
The large table that had been barren when I left was now covered in an orange and grey plaid tablecloth, a collection of small white and gold pumpkins, and greenery scattered down the center. None of the plates, silverware, or glasses matched but it all worked. The theme was carried across the bar, which was also adorned with the same plaid and more of the painted pumpkins—and what looked like whole branches hung from the beams on the ceiling. How the hell did she manage that?
It was difficult to imagine anyone not liking what she’d done.
“Absolutely. Did you really do it all yourself?”
“Mostly.”
“Liar.” Jeremy’s voice entered the room before he did, strolling in a beat later from the back. His dark eyes swept from my feet to my face and he smiled; it was only the slightest bit predatory. I was struck with the thought that he and Harley would probably get along really well. He was a good guy, but there was always this look on his face that made me think he knew something I didn’t. It was particularly strong today and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled in response.
“You hung one garland and then complained that you’d pulled a tricep,” Chase said with a roll of her eyes.
“I said my calves were tight and you shoved me aside like a used Kleenex. Do you listen to me at all?”
“No.” She turned back to me. “Anyway, you sure you like it?”
“Yes, Chase, I’m sure.”
A radiant smile broke across her face and my heart kicked hard against my ribs. Every time I told myself that pursuing something with her was a bad idea she’d do something as simple as smile at me like that and I knew I was fucked.
We stood there staring at each other, locked in this tiny world of just the two of us until Jeremy cleared his throat.
“Right!” Chase squeaked and jumped back from me. “I’m going—I need to get changed.” She all but sprinted away. It took me a second to notice the knock.
“I’ll get that then, shall I?” Jeremy drawled, the knowing smirk tipping his mouth up.
“All good,” I said, wanting an excuse to leave this awkwardness. “I got it.”
He muttered something under his breath as I walked away and I had a feeling I was going to have to keep an eye on him.
I pulled the door open and found a dude I’d never seen before standing there. “Hey man, sorry we’re closed today.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m, ah, I’m here for lunch? Chase invited me. It’s Brady.” He held out a hand and I stood there staring at it for what felt like five minutes. What the hell was going on? Why did she invite him? Why did she invite him and not tell me?
“Good to meet you. I’m Mack.” I shook the outstretched hand and invited him in. He had an inch or two on me. I stood a little taller. “How do you know Chase?”
He looked around and I narrowed my eyes at his back. “I just moved in across the hall from her. We’ve run into each other a couple of times and then yesterday she just asked if I had plans today. I didn't, so here I am.”
“Here you are,” I said, trying and failing not to sound like an asshole. “Drink?”
“Sounds good, thanks, Mack.”
I handed him a bottle of Pittsburg Pale and started on my Thanksgiving sangria. It was another of the traditions that Chase insisted on. She was a sucker for my Thanksgiving sangria.
Brady didn’t move from the bar, just turned and leaned back on both elbows like he’d been here a million times before. Who the fuck was this guy?
The sound of heels on the polished concrete floors drew my attention and, a second later, Chase appeared. And, fuck, she looked incredible. Her black dress was loose fitting—to allow for maximum food consumption no doubt—but hit just above mid thigh, exposing the toned length of her fishnet-covered legs. Fuck me. She’d pulled her hair into a loose braid that hung over one shoulder and her lips were stained red. I swallowed as spontaneous emotion clogged my throat.
She stuttered a step as she saw Brady at the bar.
“Brady—hey, hi—you’re early.”
