Wrong Bed Baby (Crescent Cove 10)

“What?” Why was she so damn beautiful? It shouldn’t be legal.

“My last name is Hastings.”

“Mine is Beck.” I rubbed the back of my neck as Lucky turned on the music in my apartment and started singing along loudly.

Since when did he like Sinatra? Or like butchering Sinatra, because wow.

Her lips twitched. “I know that. You know, August and all. But thank you for the confirmation.”

When I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to leave just yet, she arched a pale brow. “Since you’re just moving in, you can’t need a cup of sugar.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what I might need. You don’t happen to have any children you’ll be enrolling at school?”

“No.”

“Any husband to help you make those nonexistent children?”

She glanced over her shoulder at her fully furnished apartment. I couldn’t see much with her blocking my view, but the place felt relaxed and serene. Much like the woman herself. “Appears not.”

“How about a boyfriend?”

“Are you auditioning?”

“I’d like to know what the audition consists of before I sign up. If it involves that shiny pole over there…” I gestured into her spacious apartment, which seemingly had the same layout as mine. “Regrettably, I’ll have to pass.”

“Let me think about it and get back to you.”

I knew a brush-off when I heard one. I needed to seal the deal. “Why don’t we discuss it over lunch tomorrow? I’ll cook,” I offered, before remembering that my apartment was half empty and the rest was a disaster zone.

“A second grade teacher who cooks,” she mused, tapping her irresistibly glossy lips. “In the package of an outrageous flirt. Very interesting.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m outrageous. Exactly. More like persistent.” I flashed her a grin. “So, what do you say?”

Two

What did I say? That he was trouble.

I managed not to say it aloud. Yet.

Caleb’s eyes crinkled adorably. He was in that ambiguous age group of twenty-something, but he had a nice level of scruffy beard that made my palms itch to touch. I was always a sucker for a guy who didn’t scrape his face raw every morning. But there was nothing soft about him.

He was angular at the jaw and with that slash of smiling mouth. Ultra-white teeth told me he took care of himself, but the holey T-shirt in faded green didn’t give me any details about his personality. In fact, he screamed bro-dude.

I leaned on the door and let him see a little bit more of me. Not that I needed to since he’d already sneakily looked in on me, although I was pretty sure that was his friend’s doing more than his. He’d seemed almost panicked about the fact that his tall, brawny pal had opened my door.

As he should’ve. That wasn’t cool.

There wasn’t anything other than an i

nherently good vibe coming off of Caleb. Even if he had an underlying frat guy air. The big, hair metal guy also seemed on the up and up. I saw him in the café a lot, and I was pretty sure he was more an exuberant puppy than problematic. Not that I wouldn’t bust his chops later for being a creeper.

Guys needed to be taught that a woman’s space was sacred, as were our bodies.

“Think you can keep your friend on a better leash?”

He grimaced. “Yeah, that was fuck—er, freaking stupid of Lucky.”

Lucky. Why did that name suit him? It fit the overeager puppy thing he had going.