Wrong Bed Baby (Crescent Cove 10)

I scowled. “I’m definitely not August. If you think I am, I’m leaving.” Not that I could go far.

Across the hallway. Yeah, that would soothe my wounded ego.

“His reputation as the hotter brother is on the line,” Lucky informed her. “Mind you, the only one who ever said he was hotter was Caleb himself, when he was preening in the mirror.”

“Caleb.” She rolled the name around in her mouth as if she was tasting a fine wine. “I definitely can tell the difference between you.”

Was that a subtle dig? Or maybe not so subtle? I threw back my shoulders and puffed out my chest. I didn’t think I was the equivalent of a body-building male model like my best friend, but I cleaned up quite well.

I’d definitely never gotten any complaints.

“August has a picture of you guys on his desk,” she continued. “You two and your sister.”

“How do you know August?” I wasn’t over being compared to him, even if it had happened my entire life.

I wouldn’t have said I suffered from middle sibling syndrome, but I had to admit I got testy sometimes. August was one of those guys who did everything well. He was a supremely talented craftsman, a good friend to practically the whole town, and now he had a perfect little happy family with Kinleigh and their baby.

But that was neither here nor there.

“I work for him. Well, technically, I worked for Kinleigh, before their stores and everything else merged.” She spun a damp curl around her finger. “They’re so happy. It’s lovely to see.”

I grunted. As did Lucky when he picked up the furniture he’d dropped, along with my end tables, and somehow managed to heft them all into my apartment in one trip. Then he banged the door shut.

“What’s his problem?” she asked.

I turned back to her and sent up a silent apology to Lucky. Technically, he’d spotted her first, even if that spotting had been through shady means. Bro code and all that.

But I was the one who was moving into this building. She was my new neighbor. I was honor bound to chat with her and get to know her while she looked so attractively sweaty.

Okay, so side benefit.

I lifted a shoulder. “His paper plane has been unexpectedly grounded.”

“Don’t think its made of paper. Unless he’s one of those who stuffs toilet paper rolls in his jeans. Do guys really do that?”

I had to grin as I leaned against the jamb. “Guys really do a lot of things, though I think socks are more common.” I shrugged. “Sorry, can’t say definitively.”

“Oh, right, because of course you’ve never needed to do anything like that.”

I didn’t bother to hide my smirk. Hey, she’d continued this particular line of conversation, not me.

“If I was the ogling sort, I’d just look to see myself. But I prefer a little mystery.”

“What’s your name, Mystery?”

“Luna.”

“Nice to meet you.” I held out a hand and she clasped it after a moment. I waited for sparks. Expected them, for some weird reason. When there was nothing, I frowned. “Do you have a last name?”

“Nah.” She released my hand with a satisfied smile. “I’m like Madonna. Who needs more than the first?”

“Us ordinary people who teach school, for one. I don’t want my students calling me Cal.”

“But that’s what the hip teachers do, isn’t it?” She smiled again, this time in a much less practiced way. “What do you teach?”

“Second grade at the Catholic school.”

Her expression warmed exponentially. “It’s Hastings.”