Just One Kiss (Very Irresistible Bachelors 2)

I hurried from the station to my building. Even though it was March, the wind was still cold and cutting, seeping into my flesh and bones. I had a thick jacket over my dress, but I wished I’d had on an extra layer of clothes. Brrr. If I could, I’d hibernate from November to April.

When I reached my apartment, Natasha, my neighbor, gave me the rundown of how the evening went before going back to her apartment. She was a friend from my spin class, and she was the one who’d told me this unit was free. A single woman who loved kids, she was the perfect resident babysitter for the occasions when I needed someone.

Avery was sleeping already, so I was on my own for the rest of the evening. Of course I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryker. Just remembering the way his eyes had glinted when he’d asked for my number was enough to make me shiver—as if he was silently making me promises. Sinful promises. Nope. Won’t go there. And I was supposed to see him on Monday? That just spelled danger... of the hot and sizzling variety.

Before going to bed, I riffled through my mail, and my heart nearly stopped when I discovered an envelope from my landlord. With shaky hands, I opened the letter.

Please don’t let this be what I think. Please, please, please.

It was exactly what I’d feared. My landlord was asking for proof that I can afford the apartment on my own.

The rent contract had been in both mine and Gerald’s name. I’d texted Gerald yesterday, asking him to hold off on contacting the landlord until I could find a solution. He’d done the exact opposite.

I crumpled the paper in my fist, before taking my anger out on it, ripping it into tiny, tiny little pieces. That piece of shit.

Finding a new place to live in the size I wanted would be difficult. Most landlords find it too risky to rent a large apartment to a single-income household. What if one gets fired?

As a reporter for a national newspaper, I made excellent money. The problem was that half of my income came in the form of a bonus paid at the end of the year, so the actual salary wasn’t the least bit attractive for a landlord. The other problem was that the living costs in New York were ridiculous.

Tendrils of panic crawled up my throat at the prospect of apartment hunting all over again. Sighing, I dropped onto my couch.

This was a setback, all right, but I only needed a minute to regroup. Just one minute, and then I’d kick ass, as usual. I closed my eyes, leaning against the headrest. An image of Ryker popped in my mind.

No, sexy-as-hell guitar player. You can absolutely not hijack my thoughts. I need to focus.

Aha, that didn’t help. Not one bit. That wicked smile, the dangerous allure surrounding him were just branded in my mind. Every time he’d leaned closer to me tonight, he’d looked as if he’d had every intention of kissing me.

A shiver ran through me. I pressed my thighs together, trying to gather my wits. I blinked my eyes open. Yup. Much better. I couldn’t daydream about Ryker if I stared at my TV console. Clearing my throat, I grabbed my laptop. I could get us through this! I’d done it before, when the odds had been stacked against me: finding out I was pregnant had been a surprise, as had been Avery’s father bailing on me... I’d gotten through that, and I would get us through this too. I wouldn’t lie to myself though, I was daydreaming about a future where I wasn’t one bonus away from financial disaster. At twenty-eight, I still wasn’t quite there, but I knew I’d reach that point one day.

Opening my laptop, I sent an email to my editor, Danielle, right away, pitching her ten ideas. I was assigned stories, but initiative was encouraged. I finished the email by explaining my situation and that I needed at least half the bonus paid now. Her bosses had promised they’d raise my base salary this year, make it less dependent on the bonus. They’d been dangling that carrot in front of my nose for a while.

I was still so wired up from the letter that I couldn’t go to bed, couldn’t wind down. What my landlord needed was the certainty that I could cover my rent.

Thoughts of what could happen wouldn’t quit... the big one being, what if my boss said no?

Getting a second job seemed impossible, but so was sharing the apartment with someone else. I didn’t want a stranger around my daughter. A second job would mean that I’d spend even less time with Avery.

Tears threatened my composure. Why couldn’t things just work out easily, just this once? I dreamed about a more relaxed life... perhaps sharing

that future with someone. But that was just wishful thinking. Right now, I had to find a solution to our predicament.

What if I managed to get a job later at night, after putting Avery to bed? And maybe I could pay Natasha to just stay in the apartment with her until I returned?

A bartending job, perhaps? The Northern Lights came to mind. I’d done that until three years ago, when I’d been promoted from junior to senior reporter. But I could do it again—a second contract would prove to any potential landlord that I had a safety net. I was grasping at straws, but I just had to exhaust every possibility.

Breathe in, breathe out, Heather. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that. But I hadn’t gotten to where I was by waiting. I liked to be one step ahead, make contingency plans. I grabbed the phone, intending to call the manager of the Northern Lights. I’d saved her number when I’d called to ask when Ryker was performing.

When I unlocked the screen, I discovered a message.

Ryker: I had a great time tonight. I can’t wait to see you again.

A shiver ran through me, followed by a wave of heat. I held my breath, thumbs hovering above my screen. Was it wrong to indulge in a little flirting?

Heather: Who is this?

Ryker: Ouch. You have so many dates in one evening?

I grinned. I should just ask him to tell me the address of the repair shop, which was the reason I’d given him my number in the first place, but instead, I typed something else.