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Mustang: A Mountain Man Romance by S. Cook (49)


 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

I sighed as the elevator doors slid open. I clutched the strap of my purse with one hand and a pair of stilettos in the other before stepping out. I nearly tripped over a lumpy trash bag causing me to plummet forward with my arms flying out in a feeble, unsuccessful attempt to gain my balance.

A strong hand grabbed my elbow just in time to keep me from falling flat on my face. I took several quick steps to counter the momentum.

A deep baritone voice distracted me.

“Whoa, sorry about that. Didn’t get a chance to move that box out of the way before the elevator got here,” he said.

I looked up. My heart pounded, but I was certain it was a result of having almost fallen. Not because of the dark brown eyes that met mine briefly before looking away. They belonged to a handsome man.

I was sure I had never met him before—I knew practically all my neighbors. I would have remembered his face, the defined bone structure, the serious brows, and sexy, curved lips.

The man let go of my elbow as soon as I regained my balance. I stepped back, realizing that now was the appropriate moment to say something-something witty, smart, and preferably funny if I could manage it.

My years of experience as a marketing manager should come in handy at this point. Instead I was at a loss for words. I took a deep breath.

“Shoes,” I blurted.

The man looked at me. His lips turned down into half a scowl, his eyes narrowing. He was taller than me, even more so since I had taken my heels off before I left the nightclub an hour ago.

I shook my head.

“I mean—my shoes,” I stuttered. “I dropped them.” I glanced around, spotting my stilettos a few feet away.

Before I could get to them, he bent down and scooped them up.

“Here,” he said, practically shoving them at me.

“Thanks.”

I snatched the shoes from him, feeling embarrassed that he was touching something so personal. I wore my shoes on my feet, for God’s sake, and he didn’t seem to think twice about handling them.

I stood there, expecting him to say something else. The tenants of the high-rise where I lived were usually talkative and friendly. The building had a great community feel to it with everyone knowing each other by name and doing each other favors when we needed it. It was one of the reasons I’d decided to purchase my condo.

He didn’t say anything, only stuffed his hands in his pockets, his gaze going everywhere except toward mine.

Usually, I would’ve taken the hint and left the man alone. But my curiosity drew me out of my shell.

“Are you new here?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He took one hand out of his pocket, raked it through his hair, and then stuffed it back into his pocket again. He rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Oh? When did you move in?” Hopefully, I sounded casual and friendly, and not creepy.

“This morning.”

“Which condo?” I almost slapped a hand over my mouth. Crap, way to sound like a stalker.

He didn’t seem to notice. “4B”

“You’re kidding,” I said. “I’m in 4A.”

“That makes us neighbors then.” He didn’t smile.

I nodded, as if he had said something life-changing. “Welcome.”

“Thanks.”

More awkward silence. I should probably leave now. But the man wasn’t looking at me and didn’t make a move to indicate he wanted me to go. I took the opportunity to look him over.

He obviously worked out often. His dark t-shirt fit snuggly over defined tattooed muscles, his arms flexing just a little as he crossed them.  I tore my eyes away as I saw him turning towards me.

“Hope you like it here,” I said, sounding breathless. “Have a good night.”

I glanced at him and flushed when I saw the appreciative look in his eyes as they moved up my body. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks for whatever had made me choose to wear my tight, bandage dress. The mini was made of stretchy, shimmery fabric that practically molded to my skin. The last time I checked the mirror, my ass had looked sculpted and sexy, all thanks to the hours of pavement pounding over the past few weeks. For a moment, I wished I hadn’t taken off my heels after all.

Finally, his gaze met mine. He didn’t look embarrassed for someone who had been caught checking me out.

“Night,” he said, his voice hoarse and deep.

It sent delicious shivers down my spine.

I nodded and walked away. As my hips swayed back and forth, I could feel his gaze on my back. I glanced back as I rounded the corner, but he had already turned his attention back to his moving boxes.

I hope I see him again soon.

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