The Man Upstairs

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“Why were you looking for me?”

“To find out if you’re having as much trouble trying not to think about me as I’m having trying not to think about you.” His voice was seductively soft.

She wanted to roll her eyes and tell him she’d heard better lines from high school boys, but there was no sly twinkle in his eyes, no cocky tilt to his head. Just a sincerity that made her totally aware of him as a man.

If she had wanted to be coy, she could have tossed back her hair and asked why he imagined she’d been thinking about him at all. It was probably what a lot of women would have done. Not many women would pass up an opportunity to flirt with a guy like Quinn Sterling. And she could only imagine what hockey groupies would have done if they had been in her shoes.

Only Dena had never been any good at flirting. Nor was she of the groupie mentality. She didn’t even like hockey. Yet if she were honest with herself, this man standing next to her had preoccupied her thoughts lately…and not only because of his connection with the charity projects.

She didn’t want him to know that, however, and said, “I’m sorry. I’m sure you get a lot of people asking you to give of your time for various charity functions. I promise I won’t bug you anymore.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

She tried to give him a blank stare of puzzlement, but there was no mistaking the look in his eye. He was attracted to her.

“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked.

She was about to tell him she had, but then her stomach growled and he smiled and said, “You haven’t. Good. I haven’t, either. Come over to Dixie’s with me. We’ll have a little wine, eat some ribs and we can get to know each other a little better. If we’re going to be neighbors asking each other for favors, we should at least do that, don’t you think?”