Saint (The Buck Boys Heroes 3)

His voice trails when there’s a sudden, soft knock at the door. “It’s show time. Just so you know, I asked Mrs. Fields from the third floor to join in on the fun. She’s a hoot.”

I turn and watch as he approaches his apartment door. When it’s opened, I spot Mrs. Sweeney with another gray-haired woman by her side. Both are sporting broad smiles on their faces.

Sean wraps his arms around them. “I’m a lucky bastard tonight. I get to spend time with the most beautiful women in this city.”

They embrace him before the three of them part.

“Mrs. Fields, this is my new friend, Calliope.” Sean steps aside to give me access to both women. “She lives next door to me.”

“Calliope is a dream.” Mrs. Sweeney reaches for my hand as I approach her. “She’s one of the best neighbors I’ve ever had.”

“Hey, now,” Sean says in a low tone. “I’m standing right here.”

Both women turn to glance at him, but it’s Mrs. Sweeney who pats his cheek with her palm. “You’re the best neighbor I’ve ever had, Sean. You’re an incredibly special young man.”

“You’re one in a million,” Mrs. Fields chimes in.

I silently agree with her. Sean Wells is definitely one in a million. I’ve never met a man quite like him before.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Callie

A restaurant quality dinner, the best wine I’ve ever had, witty conversation, and he did the dishes on his own.

My boss is sliding up the perfect scale at breakneck speed.

“Sean is a magnificent cook, isn’t he?” Mrs. Fields asks in a tone that is fueled by too much wine.

She practically screams the question out.

No one seems to notice since the Durkmans are engrossed in a conversation with Mrs. Sweeney about which variety of pear is the best.

That stems from the pear pie that Mr. Durkman presented for dessert. He wanted everyone at the table to believe that he spent the better part of the afternoon baking it.

He was completely oblivious to the fact that the bakery he bought it at stamps each of their foil pie plates with their logo.

As each piece was served, Mr. Durkman’s dirty secret was revealed.

Not wanting to leave Mrs. Fields hanging, I answer her rhetorical question in my own way. “Dinner was delicious.”

“He’ll make someone a wonderful husband one day.” She follows that with a wink that is sent in my direction.

I take a sip of the full-bodied red wine to save myself from responding to that. I’m not an expert, but if I had to guess the price of a bottle of this, it’s more than my monthly salary.

The red wine selection at Tin Anchor is limited to three brands. Not one of them costs more than ten dollars a glass.

Sean strolls back into the dining room with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder.

Every set of eyes in the room glances in his direction even though he hasn’t said a word. I blame that on his magnetism. He commands attention whether he’s speaking or not.

“How is it going in here?” He doesn’t direct the question to anyone in particular.

“We’re having a pear debate,” Mrs. Sweeney offers. “Do you have a favorite pear, Sean?”

His gaze drops to the front of my dress. When it trails back up to my face, there’s a smirk on his lips.

Is he insinuating that my tits are his favorite pair?

“I’m not a complicated man,” he says as he sits next to me. “I prefer a nice juicy Bartlett. What about you, Calliope?”

“Bosc,” I say without giving it a lot of thought. I follow that up with an explanation because I sense this crowd will want one. “I like how crisp they are.”

Sean taps his forehead again. “Filed away for a rainy day.”

“So, do tell.” Mrs. Field leans an elbow on the table. “What’s the story with you two?”

“Us?” I ask nervously.

Sean pats my hand. “Calliope not only lives next door to me, but she also works with me.”

With, not for.

It’s a distinction that I notice immediately.

I turn to look at him.

“Is that so?” Mrs. Sweeney’s voice has a hint of amusement in it. “What a wonderful thing that is. My husband and I met on the job. Late husband. I still miss him.”

I shift my gaze to her face, but there’s no sorrow tainting her expression, just a soft smile.

“Is there an office romance brewing?” Mrs. Fields looks to Sean before her gaze jumps to me. “The chemistry between you two is at level two hundred on a scale of one to ten.”

A nervous laugh falls from my lips. “No. Nothing like that. No office romance here.”

Sean clears his throat, but I don’t turn to look at him.

“Why not?” Mr. Durkman jumps into the discussion. “You’re both young. You’re both available, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Sean says before I can answer.

I drop my gaze to the linen cloth covering the table. “My last relationship ended not long ago. I’m still dealing with some things related to that.”