meant to press against him so intimately. But since she had … No. That wasn’t at all what she wanted to tell him. She had no idea what she wanted to say. Mostly because she hadn’t been able to read him. For a moment, she’d thought … But that was ridiculous.
He’d been a hellion as a kid. Forever taking risks, talking big. It had gotten him into a lot of messes, and he’d dragged Danny along for most of those, but he’d always been welcome in the Fitzgerald home. Especially since his folks had worked such long hours.
She had to wonder if he were still reckless, ready to jump into crazy situations without a second thought. His work sounded like something to be proud of, but also dangerous. Although she had to consider she’d known only the boy, not the man. Fourteen years was a long time, and she sure wasn’t the girl she’d been back then. Or maybe she was. It was sometimes hard to tell.
While he was out of sight, she freshened her lipstick, practically the only thing she’d had room for in her purse aside from the small pen and notepad, a twenty and breath mints. Stupid little thing. At least the bridesmaid’s dress was nice. Not great, just a simple sleeveless sheath with a sweetheart neckline. In the past year alone, Shannon had been forced to wear five dresses that would never see the light of day again. At least this time she hadn’t been the maid of honor.
She suspected all her friends and relatives asked her because of her connections. Being in charge of sales and marketing for the printing plant meant she was on a first-name basis with almost every vendor from Chelsea all the way down to the Village.
“What’s that scowl about?”
Nate put down her glass as well as his big mug of beer, then sat across from her. It caused a stir inside her that was frankly inappropriate. Good grief, she had to get over this. What she should be excited about was putting him on a trading card. A man with his looks, his international lifestyle, his unforgettable dancing needed to be out there. And the good women of St. Marks lunch exchange needed a breath of fresh air.
He’d had a good haircut. Not overstyled, but neat. Whoever had had him on the chair understood that his high forehead was an asset, and that he could carry a longer sideburn than most.
“You’re good-looking,” she said. Then froze. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Grabbing his beer, he paused. “What’s that?”
Oh, what the hell. She was busy, he was busy, after tonight she probably wouldn’t see him again for another ten years. “You. I thought you were okay when you were in high school, but now you’re actually handsome.”
He fought a smile for a long minute. “Thank you?”
“You’re welcome. Now, what was the good news you were supposed to tell me?”
“I’m moving in. With you.”
2
NATE WATCHED HER EXPRESSION change from surprise to greater surprise. He sipped his beer to hide his grin.
“Oh?” she said, sounding as disinterested as a person who absolutely wasn’t.
He nodded. “I was staying at Hotel Giraffe, but your mom had a fit, so now I’m moving in tomorrow.”
“Danny’s, Myles’s or Tim’s?”
He huffed out a laugh. “You think I’d risk my life in anyone’s but Myles’s room? Your brothers are savages.”
She’d gotten herself under control, which was a pity. At least, her exterior was collected as could be, but he wondered. That dance … Not the first two, because he was under no illusions that he looked anything but preposterous attempting to move to music. Luckily for him, he’d quit worrying. He had other good qualities. Besides, if someone didn’t like it they could piss right off.
He was actually thinking of the slow dance, the one where he’d felt her breasts against his chest. The one he’d had to cut short in case she felt his reaction.
There it was. The big deal, the shock, the bewildering new reality. Shannon had grown up to be an absolute stunner. She’d been a gorgeous kid, so why it was such a surprise wasn’t clear, but he doubted anyone could have guessed she’d turn into the goddamn Venus on the Half Shell.
It started with her hair. Thick and past her shoulders, it was a lush, fiery red-orange wonder. Especially when she used both hands to sweep it off her neck before letting it fall.
“There’s plenty of room at the house these days,” she said. “How long will you be in residence?”
They’d been talking. He’d forgotten. “I’m supposed to be back in Bali by the middle of May. But I’m hoping to wrap things up here sooner than that.”
“Oh. I thought you were looking to buy a town house.”
“I am,” he said, keeping his gaze straight ahead so he didn’t get derailed again. “Mostly because I need the expenses to offset my capital gains. I’ll sublet the place, but first I have to find something, then furnish it.” He exhaled, happy that he’d found a topic so boring that his still-too-interested cock would settle in for the night.
Shit, the feeling of her in his arms revisited, and so much for boring capital-gains talk. She’d been a straight-as-a-board kid when he’d moved to his place at New York University, thirteen and a complete drama queen. Every time she spoke it was life or death, where she was the center of the universe, and none of her brothers had much patience. Especially when she kept popping up when he and Danny had convinced girls that they wouldn’t be caught sneaking into the house after ten because Mom and Dad Fitzgerald’s bedroom was on the third floor and they slept like the dead.
“In Gramercy?”
He had no idea why she’d asked … Oh. “I don’t care where it is. Or what. Duplex, town house, row house, apartment. It needs to be in Manhattan, needs to be managed so that I can be gone most of the year without worrying, and it would be nice if it brought in some decent money. If you have any ideas or know of anything, that would be great.”
“I’ll ask around.”
“Thanks.” He picked up his beer again, she lifted her wine, and then she turned to look out at the dance floor and his shoulders sagged in relief.
This was Shannon. Little Shannon. He’d known her since he was eight, and she’d been a pest for the next ten years. But now she had curves and legs that went all the way down to the ground, perfect white teeth and deep green eyes. For a natural redhead, she had fewer freckles than he would have imagined, and oh, God, she was a natural redhead, which meant that all her hair was—
“I might know of something in the Flatiron District, come to think of it,” she said, and she was looking at him again.
Great. He refused to even acknowledge the jerk in his crotch because he was thirty-two and Shannon had practically been his sister back in the day. “Hey,” he said, leaning over the table, focusing, “you were always redecorating your room.”
Shannon laughed. “I was a teenage girl. That wasn’t decorating, that was illustrating. I was constantly falling madly in love with movie stars or deeply wounded singers.”
“Your bedroom always looked nice.
