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Frostbite

Page 15

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Bauer flexes both arms to show off his biceps. “I’m superhuman, so that’s not a problem.”

“In your mind,” I quip.

“And in the minds of all the women who have tasted a piece of this.” He lowers his hands to wave in front of him.

“When you’re done admiring yourself, grab a file.” I gesture at the workstation a few feet from where we’re standing. “I’ll take the left side. You’ve got the right.”

“On it,” he says. “One last thing about Raelyn, Calder.”

I curse under my breath. “What?”

“She was checking you out last night too.” He smiles. “Something tells me she’s not torn up over the fact that she has to spend hours alone with you.”

If only.

I can’t read Raelyn Jones. Hell, I can’t even read anything online about her because nothing exists.

I found that out this morning as she was waiting for me here in the studio while I was upstairs.

I was so hard that I had to pump one out in the shower just to focus after seeing her dressed the way she was. The plaid shirt she had on was unbuttoned enough to give me a glimpse of the top of her breasts. The jeans accentuated the curves of a lush ass, and those boots almost drove me mad. The image of me fucking her while she was only wearing them kept circling through my mind on a relentless reel I couldn’t shake until I came.

My online search came up empty.

Hopefully, the fishing expedition I go on when she shows up here tomorrow night will give me more insight into the beautiful blonde.Chapter 12RaelynI bid farewell to my sister just as she was crawling into bed. Dexie’s pregnancy is kicking her ass. She’s almost in her third trimester. I’m glad. I know that she’s anxious to meet her baby. I’ve been bugging her to find out the baby’s gender, but she told me that she doesn’t want to know until the baby is born. Rocco is on board for that.

I admire their patience. If I ever get pregnant, I’ll want to know as soon as possible.

I took the subway to Calder’s studio even though Rocco offered to call me a town car when I told him I was going out to meet someone.

My brother-in-law has many connections in this city. Although he’s fine navigating public transportation or utilizing an Uber or a taxi at times, he’s most comfortable walking.

Dexie is the same. They don’t wear their wealth for the world to see. They do good things with the money they work hard to earn. I suspect the sculpture Dex ordered from Calder is one of the few extravagances she’s indulged in other than their townhouse.

As I approach the building that houses Calder’s studio and loft, I look up. He occupies the top two floors. Light seeps out from the floor where his studio is located. The space above is dark.

My mind wanders to what his home looks like. Is it furnished in natural woods and dark tones, or is it a blank canvas that only contains the essentials along with a few of his sculptures?

I don’t have a home of my own.

I’ve spent my time since graduating college living in London and Brazil. I feel at home in my sister’s townhouse, but that’s not a forever scenario.

As soon as I lock down another job, I’ll have a new place to rest my head for a year or two.

Eventually, I’ll find my way back here so I can be close to my sister and her family.

Just as I’m about to grab one of the door handles, Calder appears on the other side dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt.

I’m dressed almost identically, although I slipped a light blue cardigan over the T-shirt. I don’t need my nipples causing a distraction tonight, and since I noticed a chill in the air in Calder’s studio, I came prepared.

“Raelyn,” he greets me as he shoves open the door. “You’re right on time.”

I’m early.

“It’s important to be punctual,” I say with a smile. “I don’t like making anyone wait for me.”

That was about as subtle as a freight train speeding down the track in the middle of the night. If he doesn’t realize I’m referring to the waiting game he played with me yesterday, he’s dense.

“Some people are worth waiting for.” He smirks.

Why does that smirk make him hotter than he already is? If he combed his hair this morning, I can’t tell. The messy hair combined with his cologne makes me want to reach out and touch him.

He looks past my shoulder toward the street. “I ordered some take-out. It looks like it’s here.”

When I realize that he didn’t come down here just to greet me, disappointment washes over me.

I step aside to let him pass to retrieve the food.

He carries on a brief conversation with the driver about the snowstorm the other night.



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