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He spared me a glance. “Which part exactly?”
“I didn’t mean to insult your father.”
“But you did mean to insult me?” he asked, setting his pen aside, finally looking at the deliciousness in front of him. Was that a smirk I heard in his voice?
“Ugh, you are insufferable, you know that?”
“Well, I guess that’s a step up from . . . Now, what was it you called me before?” He cupped his chin and tapped his finger to his lips. His eyes grew wide in remembrance. “Oh, yes...An egotistical maniac who thinks he can get any woman into his bed.”
“Is that what you’re mad about?”
“Not particularly. I would agree with that statement.” A deep chuckle escaped him.
I quickly took the six steps that separated me from the door. “You self-absorbed, conceited . . .” I all but shouted.
“What?” he prompted.
“Jackass!” I spat as I reached for the doorknob.
“Oh, so now I’m a jackass?” His sexy tone stopped me dead. I dropped my hand as I turned to face him. Slowly, never taking his eyes off me, he pushed up from his chair and walked toward me in silence. His walk, I noticed, was more like a stealthy prowl as he edged around the table. And fuck me if I wasn’t a little turned on.
“I-I,” I stammered, my feet frozen in place, my heart pounding. My back against the wall next to the door put me in prime position as he came in for the kill.Kiss me. Kiss me.
He leaned down, his lips barely an inch away from mine. He whispered, “You . . . were supposed to be apologizing.”
I had no words. The sexual pull racing through my system stole my breath. With nowhere to go, I shifted, trying to create space between us. I was afraid he’d smell the lust emanating from my skin.
“I-Iamsorry,” I faltered, wringing my hands together to have them do something other than reach out and touch him.
“I appreciate your attempt. And your brownies.”
He reached out to me.
Touch me, please.
He opened the door, shaking his head. “But I’m not really a fan of chocolate,” he said as he ushered me out. “Thanks all the same.” And with that, he promptly shut the door in my face.
Knocked completely from my arousal, I stared at where he had just been. When I finally came to my senses, I stormed off and walked the entire way back home. I didn’t even realize I had left my damn car at his place until I went to hang my keys up and they were nowhere to be found. They were still on his fucking counter.
* * *
Back at the house,the walk had done nothing to calm my insane anger. I was even more pissed off now than I had been before. Grams and Pops sat at the kitchen table, finishing breakfast. “Ugh, that man is insufferable! What is his problem?” I stomped over to the coffee pot.
“Aside from him overhearing you badmouthing him yesterday?” Pops asked, not looking up from his newspaper. “Probably nothing.”
“He shouldn’t have been eavesdropping!”
“I don’t think he was eavesdropping. He probably just overheard you. You know you’re loud.”
“What?!” I shrieked.Ah, he has a point, I guess.We all started laughing. I was definitely the pot calling the kettle black. Yes, I was loud. We all were. It was in our nature, in the Moretti genes. None of us had a quiet bone in our body.
I took a seat at the table, grabbed a piece of toast from the stack, and buttered it, a bit of the wind knocked out of my sails. “Well, shit. What should I do? Why do I even care?”
“What you should do is make peace with our neighbor. Especially since he’s going to be over there for the next year or so,” Pops reminded me.
“He’s an asshat.”
“Asshat or not, he’s our neighbor now. We can’t afford to make him our enemy, Siena,” Grams reminded me.
