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He pulled my gloves off for me and set them on the small console by the door. Then he took one of my hands in his and brought it to his lips.
“I’m glad you’re here, Red,” he said softly and pulled me close. “You look good in my house.”
I blushed. “Do I?”
“Definitely. That was the first thing I thought when I found you sitting on my windowsill like you owned the place. It wasn’t just that this beautiful woman had magically appeared in my living room. I remember feeling like it was déjà vu—like you were always supposed to be here. I thought, it’s crazy, I don’t even know this girl, but I don’t want her to leave.”
His words made my throat catch. Then I thought of something.
“Wait. Were you really unable to get me a car that night?”
“No. But it was the best excuse I could come up with to get you to stay.” Brandon grinned guiltily. “Come on, Red. What I want to show you is upstairs.”
It wasallthe way upstairs: three full flights. The house was even more enormous than I’d thought. The second floor, where I had stayed, boasted three other guest rooms with en suite bathrooms. I caught a glimpse of what looked to be his enormous bedroom on the third floor, along with two other rooms that looked like an office and a home gym. Well, that explained his physique.
The top floor was a massive loft styled as a rec room. In one corner was an enormous entertainment system in front of the biggest sectional couch I had ever seen. Behind that was a wet bar framed by neon beer signs and Red Sox paraphernalia. In the middle of the room was a polished pool table, and on the other side of that was a ping-pong table.
It was the ultimate bachelor space. Everything was pristine, without a speck of dust, like it hadn’t been occupied for a while. Or maybe not ever.
“Did you want to watch a movie or something?” I asked.
I wasn’t sure why a rec room was so important to show me, but I’d heard worse excuses to get a girl to stick around. Maybe this was just his way of telling me that he didn’t like craft beer as much as he claimed.
Brandon flipped his gaze over the room briefly. “Oh, no, although we can if you want. This is mostly shit I had set up for friends. I don’t really come up here that much.”
The way his voice shifted ever so slightly on the word “friends” made me wonder if he was talking about his friends from the old neighborhood. This was the kind of place I could imagine any twenty-one-year-old putting together for his friends to come over and watch the game. Except Brandon was thirty-seven.
“Your friends from Dorchester?” I asked.
Brandon glanced at me sharply. “No. I told you, I don’t go down there anymore.”
“Yeah, but that’s because you said the people you want to see left. Do you ever see them, now that you don’t live there either? This looks like the kind of place they’d like.”
“Why, because they’re blue-collar, from the bad side of town?”
I frowned. “What? No! I just meant this looks like a guys’ hangout, what with the beer and the pool and the games and stuff.”
His shoulders relaxed, and the darkness in his eyes dissipated. “Oh. I’m sorry, Red. I just…no, I don’t see them. It’s a sensitive subject.”
“Yeah, I see that.”
Before I could ask him more, Brandon tugged me across the room toward a spiral staircase behind the pool table. At first, I resisted the urge to pinch his perfectly shaped ass as he climbed the stairs ahead of me, but upon second thought, I decided he would do the same thing to me. I reached up and made a nice grab.
Brandon hopped in surprise, but rewarded me with a mischievous grin. “Like what you see, Ms. Crosby?”
I batted my eyelashes. “I don’t know what you mean. It was right there. What do they say to women? That we really shouldn’t wear such revealing clothes, or else we’re asking for it?”
Brandon looked down at his jeans, which were the opposite of revealing, and waggled his eyebrows in a way that made me burst out laughing. “You better watch out, Red. I give as good as I get.”
“Promise?” I asked as I chased him up the rest of the stairs.
At the top, Brandon opened a door into a small room that was completely constructed of glass. At the far side was another door that led to the roof of the townhouse. There was a view of the Common just over the ledge, but also a beautiful garden set up around the various amenities. Most of the potted plants were either empty or covered with plastic to protect against the Boston winter weather, but that didn’t detract from the outdoor lounge area on a wood deck or the cedar-planked hot tub built directly into the roof.
I turned to Brandon. “Is this an excuse to go skinny dipping?” I asked with a nod toward the hot tub. “Because I’m not gonna lie. I’m a sucker for jets.”
Another crooked smile melted my insides.
“I’ll remember that,” Brandon said. “Maybe after I show you what’s in here.”
