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And like now, when she wanted him to leave.
Her eyes were fairly snapping at him.
“Yes, I live in New York.”
She was still standing in the doorway, his suitcase outside where she had rolled it. He wondered if her Minnesota roots still ran deep and she’d be too polite to just kick him out on his ass if he lingered. He couldn’t help but push his luck, because he always pushed his luck.
Like three nights ago when his house had caught on fire, Eddie was wearing very little clothing, which was also impeding his ability to think clearly.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked, curious who that scrappy young girl had grown into.
“I’m a buyer for a subscription box service.”
“Sounds impressive. What’s in the box?”
“Intimate apparel,” she said, tightly. “Listen, can you—
“Hey, look who’s here!” Eddie called up from the bottom of the stairs, giving a wave as he leaned on his crutches, leg in a cast. “Glad you made it, Sullivan.”
“Thank you for the invite, sir,” he said, grateful for Eddie senior’s arrival. Edwina—he had a really hard time thinking of her by that name—couldn’t toss him out in direct opposition to her father.
Sexy distraction or not, he still needed a couch to crash on for a few weeks.
“Dad, don’t you climb these stairs!” Eddie said in alarm, when it was clear her father intended to do just that.
Sullivan shifted past Edwina and his suitcase on the landing and jogged down the stairs. He put his hand out to Eddie, who shook it.
“You two kids catching up?” Eddie asked.
He made it sound like they were home for the summer from college instead of over thirty years old, but Sullivan nodded. “Eddie was just telling me she has a job at one of those subscription boxes.”
Intimate apparel. Bras and panties. Or maybe sexier items, like corsets and garters and satin bras where the nipples were exposed… Sullivan’s thoughts turned to an image of Eddie in a tight red leather corset and his mouth went dry. She could definitely pull off the dominatrix look.
“Did she say that?” Eddie shook his head. “That girl is always dimming her light. She doesn’t just have a job there, she owns the company. She created the company.”
That surprised him. Why had she minimized that? Maybe she thought it wasn’t any of his business. “I’m even more impressed.” He was. He turned to look back up the stairs at Eddie and tell her just that, but she wasn’t in the doorway anymore.
She’d disappeared back into the apartment.
“Have Eddie show you around the place. It’s small, but hopefully you can manage there for a few weeks until your house is aired out and the damage repaired.”
Sullivan had hired Eddie’s construction company to rip the drywall out of the bedroom and repaint most of the house to get rid of the smoke smell. When Eddie had offered him and Finn a place to stay, he’d jumped at the chance. He couldn’t stomach living with Dad and Lilly and his sister had told him he couldn’t stay with her. Which had surprised him, but Sloane had said she was putting her foot down. That she refused to allow him to move in with her and never move back out, while she babysat his son and cooked him dinner.
To be fair, he didn’t want to live with his sister indefinitely, so that was bullshit. But, he did tend to take advantage of her kindness, and hell, if she was already cooking dinner for her own family, why couldn’t he have some?
The firmness of her stance had startled him, but he wasn’t angry or upset. Sloane was right. He tended to drift along with the help of others and the fire had been a wake-up call. He needed to make serious life changes.
“Thank you, I appreciate it, seriously. I’d be in a bind without your offer.” He glanced back up the stairs. Eddie had reappeared wearing a sleeveless black dress that looked more New York than Beaver Bend. She’d brushed her hair, but it was still wet. “I don’t think your daughter is thrilled though.”
“Nah. You don’t mind if Sullivan stays here, do you, munchkin?” he asked Eddie as she descended the stairs.
“Munchkin” seemed an odd nickname for a woman who was probably six foot, but his own father lovingly called him an asshole, so who was he to judge?
“Dad, actually, I do mind,” she said, stopping on the second step from the bottom. “I don’t think it’s really appropriate.”
“Why not? You’re old friends.”
She took a deep breath, like she was struggling not to lose her shit. “I have a boyfriend, Dad. I doubt Nigel would be thrilled about the idea of me sharing an apartment with a single man.”
