My eyes betray me, landing squarely in Barrett’s lap. When I glance back up to meet his gaze, he’s practically laughing at me. It’s a rare sight to behold. So much so that I almost manage to forget that I was just staring at his crotch.

“Your charming personality,” I choke out.

Barrett leans in closer, his face barely visible in my periphery.

“Do you know what I’d say?” he asks.

“Hmm?”

“The way your eyes light up when they spot the outline of my dick in tennis shorts.”

My jaw drops to the floor of the car.

“That’s not—” I begin to argue.

“My boyfriend answer is your smile.”

Barrett retreats from the side of my head and exits out the other door. Marcus has already unloaded most of my items. He’s set my suitcase and laptop bag on the quaint stoop I was admiring minutes ago. Back before Barrett’s deep, full-bodied voice whispered the word dick into my ear. That must have been in another life because I’m dead now.

I think he said something about my smile. I can’t be sure, he lost me at dick. I’ve also had a head injury today so I’m not sure if he didn’t just say to make myself at home.

I have two options. Stay in this car and live here until my apartment is rodent-free or manage to get my highly aroused body out of the car and climb the stairs to Barrett’s stoop with wobbly legs. I opt for option two because option one will inevitably have me coming face to face with Barrett at some point, since this is his car, and I’d like to put more than two feet between us. So, I discreetly fan my flushed cheeks for half a minute then meet him on the sidewalk.

Gripping the handrail, I manage to make it up the stairs without any more head trauma.

“I love that you have a stoop. It’s so quaint.” I turn to look back to the street from my temporary residence. “I’m sure there’s some interesting history behind it.”

“It was so the parlor floor was a level above the horse manure.” Barrett’s lips twitch.

“Thanks for ruining the magic for me,” I pout.

“Anytime.”

Marcus returns from inside, the entirety of my possessions now inside Barrett’s home.

“Thank you, Marcus. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Mr. St. Clair.” He nods in my direction. “Miss Anderson.”