area,” Devon said, hurrying to flip the switch illuminating a yellow and orange daisy swag lamp dangling precariously over a once white formed plastic table. Stained yellow and orange cushions on the plastic barrel chairs completed the ensemble. Shiny bright yellow and orange large daisy wallpaper covered the end wall.
“I feel like I should say groovy, for some reason.” Jamie walked farther into the apartment and peeked into the tiny kitchen. “Are those brown appliances?”
“Um, I think they’re called Coppertone.”
Biting back a smile, she turned to him. “The owners have never updated?” No wonder the rent was so reasonable.
He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jean shorts and rocked back on the heels of his clunky sandals. “Oh, sure, they did. I think it was in 1972.” A lopsided grin transformed his face from scruffy to kind of cute. “I told you, we think they’re planning to sell the complex.”
She nodded and pushed open a door next to the kitchen. At least the bathroom was clean. Small and brilliantly yellow, but clean. “Well, this should wake me up in the mornings.”
“Yep, it sure did me, I know.” He motioned toward the bathtub. “I left the shower massage. It still works,” he added.
“Thanks.” She pointed to another door next to the bathroom. “Is that the bedroom?” At his nod, she pushed the door open.
“It’s a new mattress.”
She gazed at the big bed that practically filled the small room, intensely aware of the heat coming from the man behind her.
Okay, big guy, strip down and let’s take this baby for a test drive. She blinked, heat suffusing her cheeks. Where on earth had that thought come from? They’d just met. Sex was bad enough with someone she knew.
“You’ll need to get some sheets,” he said, close to her ear.
Startled, not to mention horrified, she jumped back, eyes wide. “I don’t think so!” Did she have the word slut across her forehead?
Devon looked at her like he thought she’d lost her mind and then shrugged. “Whatever. I personally like to sleep on a mattress pad and sheets as opposed to a bare mattress.”
Jamie did a mental head slap. Duh. Get your mind out of the gutter. “Of course. I knew what you meant.” She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “I don’t have a car yet. Would you happen to have an extra mattress pad and a set of sheets I could borrow for a couple of days? Just until I can get to a store,” she hurried to assure him when his eyes widened.
He nodded. “Sure. I could even spare a blanket. It gets kind of cold at night, especially if you leave the windows open, with the breeze off the Gulf.”
“Thanks.”
He glanced around. “If you tell me where your stuff is, I can help you carry it in.”
She looked at her feet for a second and then met his gaze. “All I have is a small suitcase. I left it outside your door. I hope that’s okay. No one will bother it, will they?” To her knowledge, the men in the courtyard had barely acknowledged her existence, but that didn’t mean they could be trusted.
“No. It’s safe.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’ll go get it while you finish looking around.”
Practically tripping over his own feet, he didn’t breathe until he closed the door behind him.
Following her around the small apartment, watching the sway of her sweet little ass, his shorts had shrunk two sizes. When she’d licked her lips, his respiration changed. Then when she’d puffed out her chest, he thought for sure she’d fall out of the low-cut neckline. That’s when he knew he had to get out of there.
He adjusted his shorts and took the long way back to his door in order to get his body to calm down. After months of abstinence, it was primed and ready for action.
Jamie was the first woman in a long time his dick had been even remotely happy to see. He sure as hell didn’t want to scare her away.
Jamie opened a vanity door and looked under the sink in her new bathroom. Maybe Devon would also loan her a couple of towels. She frowned. And soap. And shampoo.
Allowing her legs to push out in front of her, she sat back against the open bathroom door. She’d been in such a rush to escape Fred, she’d taken off without much more than the clothes on her back.
Thoughts of Fred sent a shiver through her. Money was getting low. If he found her again, she wasn’t sure how much farther she could run.
“Don’t borrow trouble,” she whispered. She had no reason to think Fred would find her. He wasn’t that smart. The last two times were just dumb luck. She hoped.
Her thoughts strayed to Devon. He had a nice smile, an open, friendly face. Of course, he could stand a shave. But he was still kind of cute, in a frumpy kind of way. He seemed harmless enough. And she could sure use a friend.
Jamie’s suitcase felt almost empty. Tamping down the urge to unzip it and see what was inside, Devon strolled toward the group of men at the fire pit.
Dropping the small suitcase by the center fountain, he plopped down on a vacant wrought-iron chair and stretched his legs toward the fire.
“Hey,” he said to the group.
They mumbled their greetings.
“So who’s the blond chick?” Drew from unit two asked, stretching to look past Devon as if he might find Jamie hiding behind the chair.
The others quieted, waiting for Devon to answer.
“Jamie,” Devon answered. “Jamie Cartwright. And before you ask, no, I don’t know much more than that, and, no, she is not interested in being shown around. Keep away from her until she at least gets settled in. Remember what happened with Alexis.”
3
“Aw, shit, Dev, you make it sound like we gang-raped her or something.” Chris scowled and flipped his long ponytail over his shoulder and then crossed his arms over his tanned chest. He referred to himself as a dancer, but Devon knew a stripper when he saw one—male or female.
“I’m not the one who got in the shower with her,” Drew pointed out then glared at Chris. “I still can’t believe you did that.”
“So I read the signals wrong,” Chris groused. “Sue me.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t have your ass thrown in jail!” Drew shot back.
Todd, the newest resident—until now—shifted and glanced around. Todd worked with Chris and had already gained a bigger reputation with the ladies. He snickered and crossed one bare foot over his waxed leg. “Dude, what were you thinking?”
Chris took a swig from his longneck beer before answering. “Her pussy was practically dripping for me. Why do you think she was squirming on my lap? Plus,” he said, pointing the beer-bottle neck at the crowd around the fire, “she had her hot little hand in my pants not fifteen minutes before she went
