Runaway (Wolfes of Manhattan 3)

I couldn’t help a sly smile. “No. I used the key.”

“Without my permission. That’s called breaking in where I come from.”

“In Pittsburgh, I suppose so. Here in Sumter Falls, it’s called being a good neighbor. We don’t even bother locking our cars. Our crime rate is really low, and we all know each other.”

“That doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.”

“It’s not a good idea…in Pittsburgh.”

“How would you know? Have you ever been to Pittsburgh?”

“No, ma’am, I haven’t. And I have no desire to go there. I’m just a small-town guy who is happy here in Sumter Falls.”

A tiny grunt emitted from her. Yeah, all these big city girls were alike. They didn’t all look like her, though. Man, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid eyes on, and I really, really wanted to see what was under that towel.

“Well…nice to meet you, Mr. Matteo.”

“First name is Matteo. Last name is Rossi. But you can call me Matt. What should I call you?”

“Riley.”

“Riley? I thought your name was Chloe. Chloe Mansfield.”

Her cheeks were already red from the heat of the hot tub, but I swore they got even redder. “Right. It is. But I go by Riley. It’s my…middle name.”

“Okay. Riley it is.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Rossi.”

“Matt, please. Mr. Rossi doesn’t exist. Even my grandpa went by his first name.”

“Fine. Matt. Please excuse me. I have to get some clothes on.”

I couldn’t help myself. I stretched my lips into a grin. “Ma’am, you don’t have to get any clothes on at all.”

She turned full-on beet red and ran into the kitchen.

Too bad she was only here for a week.3RileyOnce I was safely in the bedroom, I leaned against the door, nearly hyperventilating.

I was used to being around attractive men. Blond, dark, redhead, all skin tones and colors, all races and nationalities, and all gorgeous.

Everyone was gorgeous in the modeling world.

But Matteo Rossi took gorgeous to a new level. First, he was light where I was dark. His hair was the color of fresh wheat, and though his skin was tanned, I could tell he was naturally lighter than I was.

And about that hair the color of fresh wheat. It was long—as long or longer than my brother Roy’s. Golden stubble graced his jawline, and what a jawline it was. Square and masculine and perfectly sculpted. His eyes…the lightest blue.

Then his body…corded and muscular, with large hands and thick fingers, the broadest shoulders I’d seen in some time, and an ass that was perfection in Levi’s.

I was used to being around perfection, and probably partly because of my past, rarely did I have this intense an attraction to another human being.

My heart thudded rapidly. So hard against my chest that I could see the movement on the white towel that still covered me.

Damn.

I wanted this man. I really wanted this man in a way that was completely new to me.

I’d been around the block, for sure, but not the normal block.

The intensity of my attraction to Matteo Rossi scared the hell out of me.

I inhaled and exhaled deeply several times, trying to slow my rapid heart rate. When I finally felt I had myself in a modicum of control, I let the towel drop to the floor. My suitcase sat at the foot of the king-sized bed, so I lifted it onto the bed and opened it. I grabbed my oldest, softest pair of jeans and a T-shirt and quickly threw them on, along with a comfortable pair of Crocs flip-flops.

I walked swiftly toward the door, and my heart started thudding uncontrollably once more.

Matteo Rossi might not even be out there. He’d said he dropped some groceries off for me since the store was closed. What other reason did he have to stay?

For God’s sake, Riley. Calm down.

I inhaled slowly and exhaled, turning the doorknob and opening the door.

Then my heart started racing once more.

He was still there, standing in my kitchen—well, technically it was his kitchen—and peeling potatoes over the sink.

“Hey,” he said.

“I didn’t know you’d still be here.”

“Yep, still here. The garbage disposal is a little finicky, so I wanted to show you how to use the plunger to unclog it if you need to.”

“I think I can figure out how to use a plunger.”

He didn’t have to know I’d never used a plunger in my life. I wasn’t even sure what a plunger looked like. The Wolfes had people to do those kinds of things.

“I’m sure you can. I’m sure you’re quite capable of anything you put your mind to, honey. But like I said, the disposal is finicky, and there’s a certain knack to it.”

Honey. That was the second time he’d use the endearment. It warmed me all over, as if warm honey itself were coating me.

“Last time I checked, I’m not your honey.”