It was perfect.
Joy splintered through her. Alexa’s apartment was her first official home that was all her own. Finally, she had the privacy she craved, and an endless array of opportunities stretched ahead of her. She didn’t intend to waste a single moment.
And it started tomorrow night with her first official date.
Footsteps echoed. Michael and Max pushed through the narrow doorway and collapsed on the sagging futon. “That’s the last of it.”
She giggled at the sight of two strapping, masculine men huffing over the long climb. “I thought you guys worked out at the gym every day. Yet here you are exhausted over moving a few boxes.”
They shared a look of incredulity. “Are you kidding me? What did you put in those boxes, anyway? Stones?” her brother asked.
“I need lots of shoes. And my art equipment.”
Max glared. “There must be three hundred stairs, all twisty and narrow. And where the hell is the air-conditioning?”
“Alexa said the unit is ancient. And I told you to hire movers.”
“No need. We wanted to be involved.”
Carina held back a sigh. “Fine. Thank you both, but why don’t you get going? I have to unpack and get settled. Maggie mentioned a benefit dinner tonight.”
Michael groaned and stood up. “You’re right. She’s going to be crazed about what to wear and no matter how many times I tell her she looks great, she says she looks fat.”
Carina laughed. “Just remind her she’s not fat—just carrying two extra bodies in her small belly.”
“I’ll try. Are you going to be okay? Do you need anything?”
She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Niente. I’m excited to get settled and have everything I need. I love you, Michael.”
His face gentled and he kissed the top of her head. “I love you too. Max? Coming?”
“In a minute. Go ahead.”
“See you later.”
Her brother left and she shifted her glance to Max.
Oh. My.
His dark hair was adorably mussed and a fine sheen of sweat gleamed on his brow. His worn T-shirt clung damply to a mass of carved muscle from his abs, pecs, biceps, and other yummy places. The ancient jeans hugged his ass and dropped low on his hips in a wicked invitation for a woman to play. He always seemed to loom over her in that delicious dominant way that made her tummy drop, especially since the top of her head only hit his chin. Well versed in ignoring her physical attraction to the man, she focused on her task.
Carina grabbed the first box and ripped it open with the box cutter. “Max, there’s no need to stay. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m thirsty. Want a beer?”
“I don’t have any.”
He grinned and unfurled himself from the couch. When he returned from the kitchen, he held out a frosty Moretti. Strong tanned fingers brushed hers. “Housewarming present.”
“Yum.” She pressed the icy cold bottle to her cheek and rolled it down over her neck. The chill peppered her flesh, and she sighed with pleasure. “Feels so good.”
He made a strangled sound in his throat. She shifted her gaze, and dark blue eyes pinned her with heat. Her breath hitched, but she managed to fight past it and take a step back. Funny, she never saw that look on his face before. Almost like he was . . . hungry.
She drank her beer in a thick, heavy silence. She spoke first and tried to cut through the odd tension. “So, big plans for the weekend?”
“Not really.”
“We have the site walk-through on Monday, right?”
“Yep.”
“What do you think of my new place?”
“Small.”
“Read any good books lately?”
“No. You?”
“Yeah, the Kama Sutra.” That got his attention. He scowled but offered nothing further. “Have you read it?”
“No need.” His husky drawl promised he did fine without the well-known sex manual.
She paused mid-sip. Temper nipped as she realized he still tried to intimidate her with his towering height and primitive, masculine energy. He was a walking, breathing, living Sex God and she was sick to death of being in his shadow. Carina narrowed her eyes, and her voice snapped. “If you have nothing to talk about or offer here, I think you should be on your way. I have a lot of work to do.”
Surprise flitted across his carved features. His lip quirked. “Am I bothering you or something?”
“Yeah. Or something. If all you want to do is look like a poster for Calvin Klein, please go somewhere else. I’m sure your other women will appreciate the view.”
He choked on his beer and stared at her as if she’d turned green. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” She slammed down the bottle on the battered coffee table and began unpacking. His body heat pulsed close behind her, but she ignored him.
“Have you gone nuts? Why is my appearance suddenly so irritating to you? I thought we’d hang out a bit. Order a pizza. No big deal.”
She grit her teeth at his arrogance. “Thank you for the generous offer of your company, Max. But I have a lot to do and I’d like to be alone. We never hung out before unless Michael was around, and I need to get organized.”
“You have the whole weekend.”
“I’m going to the party tomorrow, so I’d like to have most of my stuff done.”
“Ah, yes, the party. With Edward.”
She cut him a warning look. The scene in his office still burned, but she’d be damned if he ever knew. She was done playing games with the man. Time to give him a taste of what she always went through. An inquisition. “I’m looking forward to hanging out more with Laura. I’ll tell Michael I invited her to dinner next week.”
That got his attention. His lithe frame stiffened. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t invite my dates to events without my permission.”
“Why?”
“I like Laura, but I’m in no rush. Meeting family is important.”
She grinned. “Another one bites the dust, huh? Too bad, I thought she had enough to interest you for a while.” He sucked in his breath. She moved on to the next box with a ruthless efficiency and told herself not to engage. Unfortunately, he stepped in front of her and forced her to spar.
“What do you know about the women I date? Just because I move slow and careful does not mean I can’t settle.”
Carina threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, that’s a good one. If I had a dollar for every wrong woman you chose I’d be richer than you. But you didn’t listen to me when we were young, and you’re not now.”
“Name one.”
“Sally Eckerson.”
He frowned. “We dated for three months. A successful relationship.”
“Hmm, interesting. She ended up sleeping with your friend Dale, remember?”
He scrunched up his face, deep in thought. “Oh, yeah. But we had broken it off.”
“No, you broke it off after you found her in bed with your roommate. Then there was the blond model you dated who had an IQ of a whopping one. Maybe two.”
“Jenna? Not true, we had plenty of good conversations.”
She stared him down until he shifted his feet. “Max, you brought her to dinner at Mama’s house. She didn’t know there was a war in Iraq or who the president of the U.S. was.”