Finding The Edge. Debra Webb
He hefted his duffel onto one shoulder and followed her. His time in the service had taught him not to take his physical condition for granted. He stayed in the same shape he had when he’d been in active duty.
The climb to the third floor, however, gave him far too much time to focus on the sway of her hips. Someone else stayed in shape, he decided. He remembered her soft curves a little too well. Time had been good to her. She still looked like the nineteen-year-old he’d first met in the university library. He’d tried so damned hard to focus on the book he’d been reading for an English paper, only he couldn’t stop looking at her over the top of the page. She had the blondest hair, still did. Every sweet hair on her gorgeous body was naturally blond. Her skin was the creamiest white, like porcelain. And those eyes, so green. When she smiled or got angry they shimmered like emeralds under a waterfall.
She exited the stairwell on the third floor, again without looking back or saying a word to him. He followed. This was another part they had to get straight. He went through any door first. She stayed close and behind him, preferably.
He imagined the real trouble was going to be in getting her to cooperate when he explained that she might be the boss but he was in charge.
At the door to her apartment he stepped in front of her. “I go in first.” He held out his hand.
She dropped the key into his palm and stepped back. He unlocked the door and moved inside. He’d looked at the floor plans for her building. She had a one-bedroom. The entry door opened into a small hall. The living and dining space along with the kitchen were an L-shape, and then another tiny hall with doors to a linen closet, the bedroom and the bath. No balcony, but she did have two large windows. He motioned for her to come inside, but she didn’t. She stared at the door across the hall.
“Something wrong?”
She shook her head. “Guess not.” She gestured to the door she’d been staring at. “I thought my neighbor was going out of town.” With a shrug she turned to her own door and stepped inside.
Todd closed and locked it. “Stay put until I have a look around.”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.
The large window overlooking the street allowed plenty of light into the room. He was surprised there were no blinds or curtains. The Eva he had known before had been very shy and private. Another of those things that had attracted him. He was glad to see an upholstered sofa rather than leather since it would serve as his bed. A small cocktail table stood in front of the sofa and a side table sat between two comfortable-looking chairs. The upholstery and the throw pillows were soft, muted shades of blues and greens and yellows. A rug in the center of the room was scattered with two larger pillows. Didn’t take much to imagine her on the floor curled up with a good book. Back in college she’d enjoyed reading romance novels when she wasn’t studying. He’d often teased her about her secret hobby.
The kitchen was tiny with an even tinier dining area. Updated three-piece bath with lots of that subway tile people went gaga over. Big mirrors that made the space look a tad larger and more of those little bursts of color that adorned the main living space. He opened the door to the bedroom and the scent of her assaulted him and made him weak. The large window in this intimate space was covered with thick curtains, ensuring the room was dark. He flipped on a light, checked the closet that overflowed with clothes and shoes and then turned to go. The unmade bed and the nightshirt tossed onto the tousled covers made him hesitate.
Selfishly, he experienced a sense of satisfaction at the untouched second pillow on the bed. He scanned the walls and other surfaces for photos or signs of a boyfriend. The only photographs were of her and her sister, Lena, and their parents. Their father had died the year before Eva started college. She had still been struggling with the loss when they were together.
“Are you finished yet?”
He pivoted toward her voice, surprised she’d gotten as far as the door without him noticing. Distraction is dangerous. He knew better. “The apartment is clear.”
“I noticed.” She executed an about-face and stormed away.
Todd heaved a disgusted breath and plowed his hand through his hair. This might not be as easy as he’d thought. He had foolishly hoped they might be able to make amends. That maybe he and Eva could be friends now that he was back in Chicago. Guess not.
He exited the bedroom and took the few short steps to the kitchen. This place was considerably smaller than it looked when he reviewed the building’s floor plan. Spending a lot of time here with her would prove less than comfortable. She opened cabinet door after cabinet door, then rummaged in the refrigerator, obviously looking for something to eat.
“We could have dinner delivered,” he suggested.
She looked at him over the fridge door. “Yogurt and crackers are fine with me.”
He gritted his teeth and restrained any response for a moment. Her plan was obvious—make him as miserable as possible. No problem. He deserved it. “Sounds awesome.”
She blinked but not fast enough to cover her surprise. A carton of yogurt and an apple in hand, she left the fridge, grabbed a box of crackers from a cabinet and carried her haul to the counter.
He tossed his duffel on the sofa and watched as she carefully sliced her apple and arranged it on a plate, then added a handful of small crackers. With yogurt spooned into the center, she sprinkled a few walnuts on top. Spoon and plate in hand, she carried both to the made-for-two dining table. She poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge, grabbed a napkin and then took a seat.
Todd ignored her indifference and made himself at home. He grabbed a plate, rummaged for a butter knife, found peanut butter and proceeded to slather it onto as many of the small crackers as the plate would hold. He added an apple, not bothering to slice it, poured a glass of water and then joined her at the small table.
“Looks like you predicted Lena’s future correctly.” He stuffed a cracker into his mouth, hoping the protein in the peanut butter would satisfy him. He was starving.
Eva licked the yogurt from her spoon. He stared at his plate, then went for the apple. Anything to avoid watching her tongue slide around on that spoon.
“Channel 7 loves her. The viewers love her.” Eva nibbled on a cracker. “I’m really proud of her.”
Todd knocked back a long swallow of water before placing his glass back on the table. “You haven’t done so bad yourself. Pierce raved about you to Victoria.”
“I’m happy.” She reached for an apple slice.
She didn’t ask about his career or whether he was happy or if his brother Kevin was okay. The only part that surprised him was Kevin. His brother had been just a toddler when their father abandoned them. Their mother had died a few months earlier and there was no known extended family. Kevin had been adopted quickly, but Todd hadn’t been so lucky. He’d spent the next twelve years of his life in foster homes. It wasn’t until college that his little brother found him. They’d been damned close since. Eva was the only woman he’d ever taken to Christmas dinner with Kevin. He had loved her. She always asked about Kevin after that...at least until Todd left. Then again, he couldn’t really hold that against her since he hadn’t exactly been around for her when her mother died. He pushed the sensitive memory away.
The rest of the not-so-yummy and definitely not-filling meal was consumed without conversation. She rinsed her plate and placed it in the dishwasher. He pushed in his chair and followed her lead with the cleanup. “If only we had dessert.”
She didn’t smile. Instead she walked to the cabinets, put the crackers away and withdrew a tub of cake frosting. She shoved it at him. “Chocolate. Enjoy.”
Really? He put the frosting back in the cabinet and joined her in the living room. Since she obviously had no desire to catch up, he might as well move on to business. “How much do you know about the True Disciples?”
She curled up in one of the two chairs and