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Lenny looked down at herself. Mal wasn’t wrong. “I’m sure you have homework.”
Mal laughed and the intercom buzzed. “Does he wear glasses and a cardigan? Does he have food stains on his tie and smell of baby vomit?”
“Yes.” Those glasses had been as unexpected as the child and just as annoyingly sexy. “Now go to your room and don’t come out unless I scream fire.”
Mal brought one sneaker-clad foot up onto the seat of the stool she sat on and hugged it, settling in to watch Halsey’s arrival. “He must really smell bad,” she said.
The intercom buzzed again. Halsey smelled expensive. Lenny added that to the list of things she knew about him—it wasn’t exactly an asset on the remember-he’s-a-grifter column—and told the doorman to send him up.
When she opened the door, it was to come face-to-face with a version of Halsey she’d not met before. His arms were full of groceries.
“Thought you could use these,” he said.
She reached to take the bag out of his arms. Arms that weren’t in a suit coat but a soft blue Henley with the sleeves pushed up to show stupidly nice forearms. He didn’t have suit pants on. He’d worn jeans. She didn’t know how she felt about seeing him dressed down. He looked accessible in a way his suits made it look like he really did take his joy from spreadsheets. She couldn’t stop staring at him. He looked like a mistake she was destined to make.
“Is this okay?” h
e asked softly, as the bag passed between them. And just that, the checking in made her feel less tense.
“Thank you,” she said, peering inside the bags. There was a bunch of bright tulips and fresh pasta and sauce plus breadsticks. The makings of a meal. “You shouldn’t have.”
“We need to eat,” he said.
He followed her to the kitchen where Mallory sat smirking. “You’re the accountant,” she said.
Halsey extended his hand. “I’m the accountant.”
They shook and exchanged names and Mal said, “You don’t smell bad.”
His brows went down. “I hope not.”
Mal grinned at him, star struck in the thirty seconds he’d been in the apartment. Lenny groaned, making them both look across at her. He didn’t present like a sexy version of Dad, but he was no role model, either. She put the bag of groceries on the counter with a thump, took the flowers out, and waved them at Mal. “Put these in a vase, please. There’s one in Mom’s room.”
“No starting the pajama party till I’m back,” Mal said as she made for Mom’s room.
“Don’t ask,” Lenny said to Halsey’s quizzical look. “I thought you lived in a suit.”
He smiled. Oh, he did have a lovely smile. The kind that warmed her over. The kind that could take anyone in. “It works as a uniform. No extra decisions to make. No surprises.”
“Handling surprises would be part of your training, I imagine.”
He reached into one of the bags and took out a bottle of wine. “I like surprises about as much as I like psychopaths and rich men with no social conscience.” He walked it around to the refrigerator, put it inside, and then stood close and said, “How do you want me to handle, Mallory?”
Carefully, because she’s already half in love with you. “Like Amelia but at sixteen, and no teaching her anything criminal.”
He laughed. “She’s like you.”
“She’s back,” said Mal. “Or do you want to keep talking about me? Who’s Amelia?”
“Halsey’s girlfriend,” Lenny said, and Mal’s smile fell.
She put the vase on the counter. “I’ve got homework.” Without looking at Halsey, she said, “Nice to meet you,” and left the room.
Halsey watched her go. “What did I do?”
Sixteen came with a tinder directory of emotions, each one coming at you fast and without warning. “She’s disappointed you don’t smell like baby’s vomit.”
His shook his head, but he picked up the vase and filled it with water at the sink. He had to pass behind her to do that. Close enough she could smell his ocean fresh scent. She poked him in the pec because he took up so much space, and yet he wasn’t intimidating; she couldn’t help herself but touch him. I’m in so much trouble.
